Fractured Era: Legacy Code Bundle (Books 1-3) (Fractured Era Series)

by Kalquist, Autumn

  He searched again, this time looking for shift card usage during their shifts.

  The results populated, and Tadeo sucked in a breath. There were dozens of instances where each of them were places they shouldn’t have been—outside their usual work sectors. It would take hours to analyze and cross-reference everything here with the data he had on the import and export workers.

  A knock sounded on the door, and Tadeo went to open it. Omar stood outside with Kiva and the rest of the squad arrayed behind him.

  “You ready?” Omar asked.

  “Come in here, Sergeant,” Tadeo said.

  When the door slid shut behind Omar, Tadeo began to pace in front of the table. “I need you to take the squad and at least one maintenance worker—find Gemma from yesterday. Tear apart every repair job the terrorists did. I need to cross-reference data to see if I can find any leads. It would go a lot faster if I had help…”

  “I’ll stay. Send Kiva and the squad to search,” Omar said.

  Tadeo stopped pacing. “But can she can be trusted?”

  Omar looked offended. “If I say she’s trustworthy, she’s trustworthy.”

  “I wanted an extra person for this mission, but…” Tadeo shook his head.

  “You know how many games of chips I played with that girl?” Omar asked. “She’s a terrible liar. Loses every time. You can trust her. And when you need her, she always shows up. Plus, Chief approved her. She’s good.”

  Tadeo met Omar’s sincere gaze, and for the first time, he felt the chasm that had formed between them. They’d never been that close, but now they were miles apart.

  Tadeo had seen death—had caused it. He’d airlocked a traitor secretly in the night and learned a member of the guard had worked with terrorists. His own mother was a traitor. He knew too much now. His naive view of the fleet had been shattered forever, but Omar still believed everything he used to.

  “What?” Omar asked. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “Nothing. I do trust you. More than Kiva. So… I want you to lead the squad on the search. Kiva can stay with me.” Tadeo popped the cube out of his handheld. “Here’s a list of every job the terrorists did.”

  Omar took the cube, but he looked unhappy. “Yes, sir.”

  “Let them all in, Sergeant.”

  Omar opened the door, and the squad filed in, backs straight, eyes alert and fixed on Tadeo.

  He crossed his arms behind his back and stood tall. “Sergeant Omar will be in charge today. You will be tearing apart every job the terrorists performed while on this ship. Practice extreme caution—we believe they may have rigged more than one job to fail.” Tadeo made eye contact with Omar and nodded. He opened the door.

  “Sergeant Kiva, you’re staying with me.”

  Kiva looked at him, confused, but she stayed put as the rest of the squad filed out.

  “Sit down.” Tadeo slid the cube case to Kiva from across the table. “Here is a list of every single repair the terrorists made, and every time their shift cards were used starting ten months back when they arrived, up until the day they were airlocked. I want you to collect and sort every instance where one of them was anywhere other than their job sector.”

  “Yes, sir, but… Sir, can I ask you something?”

  “Speak.”

  “Why are we investigating all of this now? What’s going on?” Her voice had an edge of fear to it.

  Tadeo folded his arms across his chest, heart rate picking up. “We’re merely checking to ensure they did nothing else to sabotage this ship.” His voice came out strong, soothing.

  Kiva nodded, a look of relief passing over her face.

  He’d have to tell her more than that, or she wouldn’t be useful to him. But not yet. Because he had something else he needed to do.

  “Sir, is there anything I should be looking for in particular?” she asked.

  “Just anything out of the ordinary. I need to get more information from the archives. Start sorting the data by name, date, and sector, and I’ll be back soon.”

  “Yes, sir.” Kiva activated her eyepiece. She opened up the metal box, revealing dozens of small data cubes, picked one up, and slid it into her handheld.

  Tadeo headed out the door, his heart pumping hard in his chest. A spike of adrenaline surged through him as he strode toward the stairs. The data on those cubes couldn’t answer the questions he really needed answers to.

  Maybe the most recent Meso transfers were dead or had been cleared—but his mother had acted guilty when he’d confronted her.

  Someone else was spying for her… and could have been working with Tatiana. He needed information from the archives. He had to break the rules—and lie—if he wanted to find answers.

  ∞ ∞

  Tadeo’s pulse raced as he passed through the sliding doors of the Repository. Sweat dripped down his back, and his suit stuck to him as if he’d just come from the sublevels.

  The large room opened before him, reminding him of one of the helio sectors on the Meso. But this space was lit with lume bars instead of a superhelio, and it ended too soon at the glasstex barrier that ran from one wall to the other.

  Beyond the barrier, the archive boxes marched along in straight rows, extending back to the dim reaches of the level.

  Tadeo strode past the comm station. It was busy in here, the benches packed full with colonists waiting to record messages. The low murmur of the waiting crowd quieted as he passed. Tadeo headed for the archivist station and kept his eyes straight ahead on the archives beyond the barrier.

  The memory cubes in each box stored the data they’d need once they found New Earth. They’d relearn ancient farming techniques, restart entire manufacturing chains. Only they’d do it the right way this time. This time, the planet would not be destroyed. There’d be no gen-modded plants, no gen-modded bacteria. Humanity would finally get the chance to start over.

  A little twinge of regret ached in him. This place had always represented something pure—the hope of a better world. But now it seemed different, touched by rot after his mother’s confession, altered by what Era did. His chest flared hotter than a helio at the thought of Era deleting files, destroying their future, and he quickened his pace. Messing with the archives carried a high price, and she’d paid it.

  When all this was over, he’d make his mother see who the real enemy was. And it wasn’t the fleet’s government. Yet here he was—about to break government rules because of her. Every archive cube order came from the president. And he had to convince the head archivist to pull records he had no official order for.

  She stood behind the counter and her large black stationary box, her eyepiece activated, rubbing the smooth dark skin of her forehead. She’d been crying yesterday when Tadeo came in for the import and export personnel files, but now she looked composed. Her bloodshot eyes flicked toward him, and she folded her hands in front of her. “Lieutenant Raines, what can I do for you?”

  Tadeo licked his lips and slid his shift card across the counter. “Personnel records.”

  Mali waited a moment, then her brow furrowed. “Where’s the order cube?”

  “No cube.”

  “I need—”

  “It’s a verbal order.”

  Mali raised a brow. “A verbal order from the president?”

  Another surge of adrenaline flowed through Tadeo. “Are you questioning my orders?”

  Mali bit her lip and backed up from him a small step. She glanced toward the comm station. “I… I can’t pull archival records without an official order.”

  “I’m on the president’s personal guard now, Archivist. And we need this order now.”

  “I have to have an order cube,” she said, wringing her hands together. “That’s the rule.”

  Tadeo leaned over the counter and met her gaze. She looked frightened of him. Good.

  “This is an urgent records pull for an ongoing investigation,” Tadeo said, warning in his voice. “And you will pull it now.”

/>   “The cube order—”

  “Pull it now,” Tadeo commanded.

  “I can’t do it,” Mali said. She swallowed hard and pushed his shift card back to him.

  “Can’t or won’t?” Tadeo’s pulse buzzed in his ears, and a tiny edge of discomfort spread within him at the thought that he might not be successful in this.

  Mali blinked and pressed her lips together.

  He placed his hand over his card, making to take it back. “You’ll be punished for disobeying a direct order from the president’s personal guard,” he said, his voice smooth. “I hope you have someone ready to take your place.”

  Mali set her jaw and didn’t respond. His mouth went dry. He needed to try harder. He wasn’t leaving empty-handed, not after taking this risk.

  “We’re investigating Era Corinth’s death,” he said, keeping his voice low. “I shouldn’t tell you that, but you ought to know which investigation you’re blocking.”

  Mali’s face crumpled for a moment, and she grabbed Tadeo’s sleeve, clearly fighting to compose herself.

  He waited, watching her face, and another drop of sweat trickled down his back. He fought to repress a smile. He was enjoying this too much—the wrongness of it, the threat of being caught—yet he was using this woman’s grief to attain his own ends. He pushed the thought away. Mali had clearly cared about the girl, but she wouldn’t if she knew the truth.

  Mali finally nodded and glanced toward the front of the Repository again, at the comm station. She released her grip on his sleeve and took his shift card back to scan it. “Tell me what you need.”

  Tadeo kept his face blank, but his chest lightened with his success. “Records on every Meso transfer who still lives aboard the Paragon. And recent records on the colonists who died while on term here.”

  Mali twisted her wrist to activate her eyepiece and moved her hand in a flurry of gestures, manipulating the 3D interface. “Those records go back three terms—fifteen years. Everyone who came over four terms ago is either deceased or transferred to other ships. Is there anything else?”

  “Yes. I want each of their work records for the past ten months. All of them. Every job they did, every time they used their shift card.”

  Mali hesitated and looked like she wanted to ask him something. She licked her lips and met his gaze. “When do you need this by?”

  “As soon as possible.”

  “I’ll get on it now.” She handed back his shift card, and Tadeo waited. He wiped the thin layer of sweat from his brow and pressed his hand to the cool, metal counter. His lies had worked, but now his card would be logged as ordering these records. The president had said he had all resources at his disposal, hadn’t she? If she found out about this, he’d say he thought this was what she meant. Besides, these were just old personnel files. It wasn’t like he was accessing ancient Earth files.

  Mali finished what she was doing and headed for the storage cubic to retrieve an archive cube case. Tadeo watched her go. If Era had been working with terrorists, she hadn’t hidden data in her own cubic. He still didn’t know how she might be connected to this, but if Omar’s search turned up nothing, he’d convince the president to let them bring squads in here to tear the panels off every last cubic Era had access to.

  The repository doors slid open, and a group of talkative halfs walked through and sat at the comm station benches. A girl with brown hair gave him a wave and a bright grin. She looked familiar… was she one of the techs who worked second shift? Tadeo averted his eyes. He had no idea what her name was, and he didn’t care. Just another annoyance he didn’t need.

  He paced to the back of the Repository, out of view of the comm station benches, and leaned against the glasstex barrier. He separated his collar from his damp neck and watched as Mali entered the archives, cube case in hand. If his mother had been up to anything more than what she’d confessed to—he’d know soon.

  His comcuff buzzed, and he jolted. Central was comming.

  “Lieutenant Raines here,” he said, his mouth dry, his eyes glued to the archives.

  “Sir, medlevel is on the line. Do you want us to patch them through?”

  “Yes.” They must have news about the medlevel card he’d found in Dritan’s cubic.

  The tech from medlevel came on the line. “Sorry for the wait, sir. The card’s ancient. More than 30 years. It’s not even attached to anyone in our system. I don’t know how it’s even still around.”

  Tadeo sighed. “Understood.”

  He shut off his comcuff. So the power cell insert he’d found in Dritan’s cubic was recyc junk, and the medlevel card was a dead end. Only Dritan and Era could tell him why those things had been hidden there, and they were both gone.

  Mali exited the archives, and his heart thumped harder at the sight of the case in her hands.

  She walked over and handed it to him. “Here’s everything.”

  Tadeo took the cube box in one slick palm. “I need a private space. A cubic.”

  Mali’s brow furrowed, but she nodded and led him toward the side of the Repository. She opened a small cubic with a table and two chairs inside. “Does this work for you, sir?”

  “Yes. You’re dismissed.”

  Tadeo dropped into a chair as the door closed behind him. He opened the silver case to retrieve the palm-sized cube within it. A thrill raced through him as he pushed it into the slot in his handheld and activated his eyepiece.

  Tadeo gestured impatiently to get past the loading screen, and the main screen appeared, square files dotting it. He tapped the one labeled Meso Transfer Lists.

  They were listed by date, then sorted by job and last name. He flicked his finger through the air, moving the files as he went through them.

  Like Chief had said, every single sublevel worker from the latest transfer list had the same label: Deceased.

  He paused when he came to Tatiana Carizo’s file. The girl had been a year younger than him and looked positively ordinary. Medium-brown skin, straight black hair pulled tight into a ponytail. She wore a blank expression in her holo image.

  What were you up to?

  He moved past her image and kept going. A dozen other Meso transfers had come in during the last transfer term. They worked in the galley as techs, and one worked on medlevel. Caden Bjork. The man looked to be near fifty, with pale-hair and light eyes. He saved Caden for later, so he could check to see if the man worked closely with Medic Faust.

  He closed out the file and chose the next list of names. This list was much shorter…not many colonists managed to stay on the Paragon for longer than one five-year term. Every sublevel worker from ten years back was also marked deceased. The rest worked in the galley, bridge, and helio sector… imports. Tadeo tapped Imports, and one name came up. Jai Florian.

  Jai had brown skin, deep wrinkles on his brow, and wore his hair cropped close to his skull. Tadeo tapped his records. The man had no marks against him, had never even been thrown in the brig. His record was impeccable.

  But his mother needed someone on the inside capable of smuggling out information. And the Meso transfers had known someone with access to the imports and exports sector on zero deck. This man had that access.

  He also could have helped smuggle the explosive powder in.

  He was the one. Jai Florian was the man he needed to talk to next.

  Tadeo hurriedly searched fifteen years back, expecting no useful results. The list only contained one job sector.

  Medlevel.

  He tapped it, and one image appeared.

  Nora Faust.

  He swallowed, and his heart thumped unevenly as he opened her records.

  Medic Faust had lied. She hadn’t been on the Paragon her whole life. She’d come from the Meso. And Tadeo had no doubt she knew his mother. But was she also a spy? And why would she say the things she’d said if she was?

  Jai Florian and Nora Faust.

  Had either of them been working with Tatiana?

  If either of them had, he was
going to make them tell him everything… no matter what it took.

  Zephyr activated the vidrelay and sat back in her seat. This job was mind-numbingly boring—not interesting enough to keep her thoughts from going to the worst place they could. Era.

  “Go ahead,” Zephyr said, waving a hand.

  The young half in the chair across from her shifted uncomfortably. “Name: Brianne Cho, Message for: Kim Cho, of the Vancouver.”

  The girl began to talk, and Zephyr tuned her out. In the past hour, she’d figured out what needed to be done. She had to go to the president and plea for her release.

  At age 12, Zephyr became a half, but it was mandated that she spend most of her half years—from age sixteen until twenty-one—aboard the Paragon, so she could learn how the rest of the colonists lived and get to know the president and board. They’d only allow her go home when she turned twenty-one, or if her father died, whichever came first. She’d been secretly hoping her father would die before she went back to the London, but staying here now, without Era, would be worse than living under the threat of his temper.

  She stared hard at the door behind the half, tracing its scratches and dents with her eyes, trying to keep her senseless anger at bay. If she leaned to the right and looked around the half, she could see that the door had a peculiar zig-zag scratch running down the side of it, with a spiral imprint just above it, as if some sublevel worker had hit it with the wrong hot tool. Someone like Dritan.

  She just wanted to get back to her bunk and sleep or go to Observation to work on her song. Get away from this place.

  The half finished talking, and Zephyr grabbed the cube from her handheld and led the girl into the waiting area.

  The crowd had grown enormously since she’d started shift, which was strange considering comms wouldn’t even be going out for over a week.

  “Tadeo,” a voice said.

  Zephyr stopped walking to turn toward the voice she’d heard.

  Paige, Helice, and Kali were sitting on one of the benches, staring toward the archivist station. Zephyr followed their gazes, and her heart sped up. Tadeo stood beside the glass barrier, looking into the archives. Her hate for him flared up, and her cheeks flushed as it ran through her. She’d never speak to him again—not after the way he’d talked about Era yesterday.