by Erin Bowman
Amber skirted around a dancing couple and shoved through a tight-packed group of pilots. Watching the test had been thrilling, but it had also gotten her thinking. She didn’t know why she hadn’t thought of it sooner—why none of them had. She spotted Nova across the way and picked up her pace. To be honest, she spotted the pilot everywhere now. Even when Amber wasn’t looking for her, her eyes managed to find the other girl, latching on to her confident posture, obsessing about the way her tank top tucked into her cargo pants, lingering on her smile.
“Come to join the celebration?” Lawson said, handing Amber a glass. The petite pilot was drinking alongside Coen and Nova, though she was the only one who looked old enough to legally be doing so.
Amber shook her head.
“Oh, come on, Amber,” Nova said. “We’re jumping into potential battle in barely a week. Maybe it will be the War That Never Was, like Naree and Sol are hoping for, or maybe it will be a goddamn mess. Either way, we deserve drinks.”
“Sure, but I think there’s an even easier way to stop Burke.”
Coen set his glass on the table. “What?”
“Can I talk to you two . . . privately?”
Lawson shrugged and turned away, joining a boisterous group of Paradox pilots in a song Amber didn’t recognize. Amber led the way toward a quiet corner of the mess hall, Coen and Nova following.
“Watching that feed got me thinking,” she said once they were alone. “We needed the AltCor to successfully power the flux drive to its fullest capacities. That’s our power source. So what powers the implants Burke’s got in his hosts?”
“I assumed they were self-sufficient,” Nova said.
“Have we asked Thea?”
Coen’s eyes went blank for a moment. “Thea says they’re not self-sufficient. Burke wanted them to be, but the Radicals are running things out of a derelict space station, and they couldn’t get the tech to work perfectly in time for the summit. It’s the end goal, but right now there’s a computer—a logic unit, basically—that the implants transmit through.”
“So they’re powered by the host itself, but the logic unit establishes how they should react to any given situation? It gives them orders, for lack of a better term?”
Coen nodded. “Yeah. And determines if the implant should deliver a shock.”
“Where’s the unit stored?”
“Somewhere on Kanna7.”
Amber looked at Nova and Coen pointedly. “You see where I’m going with this?”
“Turn off the logic unit and his hosts are useless,” Nova muttered. “His entire plan will fall apart.”
Amber winked. “And Thea can probably access it during the summit, when the Radicals are distracted. She can turn it off.”
“Before you get too excited, Thea says she doesn’t even know where the unit is stored, just that it exists.”
“So ask Farraday,” Nova said.
Coen shook his head. “He’s passing Thea info, but he’s not straight-up defying superior orders.”
“What might make him?” Nova asked.
And just like that, Amber saw the answer. “Me. Have Thea tell my dad I’ll come back if he helps her turn off the logic unit.”
“Go back to him? After what he forced you to do?” Nova’s brown eyes bored into Amber. It was the first time the pilot had held her gaze since that day in the infirmary.
“I’m promising to come back. I’m not promising to stay.”
Coen cleared his throat. “It wouldn’t change the overall plan. We’d still have to jump to Xenia to contain the Radicals.”
“And containing that threat will be a lot easier if we know the hosts are free-thinking. If they can help us instead of answering to Burke.” Amber let out an exhale. “Will you at least have Thea talk to my dad about this?”
“It means she has to admit that she can still talk to me. She’s kept that hidden so far. They’re confusing spikes in her brain activity with her talking to the other hosts already on Kanna7, not me.”
“If this works, it will be worth it,” Amber said firmly.
Coen thumbed his lip. “I know it will be. Thea’s yelling the same thing at me right now. She says she’ll talk to Farraday next time he draws blood. I’ll keep you guys posted.”
“Are you sure?” the man in shipping said to the programmer. She was back on Bev, retrieving a massive cargo container of AltCor while Sol visited Dax to handle the payment. Dax didn’t want anything on the books, so a digital transfer of unnes was out of the question. The funds needed to be exchanged in person.
Naree looked up from Sol’s Tab. He’d loaned it to her, the screen filled with shipping details so that she could confirm they were getting the exact number of crates they’d paid for. “Of course I’m sure,” Naree said to the man. “Our men are paying yours right now.”
The man grimaced behind his suit. “It’s just . . . Look, I’m not supposed to show this to you, but I think you have a right to know. Especially with this shipment headed off-planet.”
“What’s this?” she asked, tucking Sol’s Tab beneath her arm so she could accept the man’s tablet. Surveillance footage from inside the base filled the screen.
“Watch.”
She did, and wished she hadn’t. “Has Sol seen this?”
“No, and he’s not supposed to. You, either. Dax needs more funding, so the sale is important. But you have to know. I couldn’t not tell you.”
A savage wind whipped through the open warehouse, nudging the programmer’s back. Despite being suited, she swore she could feel its icy sting.
She watched the footage again, then motioned to the workers standing near the crate and called, “Load it up!”
“You can’t,” the man snapped, clapping a hand over her wrist. “Not after what I just showed you.” Genuine fear flitted in his eyes. “Dax is power-hungry. All he sees is the unnes, not the risk.”
“I know someone else like that, and I’ve survived under his roof for over a decade. We’ll survive this, too.” The programmer wrenched her arm free. As the man blubbered and pleaded, she bumped his Tab to Sol’s, transferring the footage. She’d encrypt it on the flight home, bury it among Sol’s personal files. He’d never find it, but it would be there, waiting.
Naree returned the other man’s Tab and strode for her shuttle. He let her go without an argument; maybe because he knew he could lose his job for showing her the footage. His reasoning didn’t matter to Naree. This changed nothing. There was only one way forward.
When Sol returned from handling payments, he found her aboard their shuttle, the cargo loaded and the crew ready to take off. “Any issues?”
“No,” she said, and she meant it. For once, everything was unfolding perfectly. Perhaps even better than she’d planned.
VIII
The Ally
Kanna7 Station
Orbiting Sol 2 from beyond the Lethe Asteroid Belt, Trios System
/
UBS Paramount
Trios Airspace
THEA WORKED OUT FIRST THING in the morning. It was the only time of day that Coen wasn’t also awake, and the only few hours of quiet she had to herself. She could still sense him at the edges of her consciousness, but it was like a cloud divided them, a veil of fog too thick to push through. As soon as he woke it would vanish, dissipating as the connection came roaring back, all his thoughts and fears and concerns loud in her head.
She wished she could ease his nerves. The AltCor had powered the flux drive perfectly. Paradox’s ships could now make numerous jumps in a short period of time. But he still longed to turn the logic unit off, because maybe, just maybe, it would make Burke fold sooner. Surrender his cause. Yield to the Union.
And because Coen wanted it, Thea did, too. It was a good plan. If it worked. But the next time she was brought to the lab for a blood draw, she hesitated to broach the subject with Farraday.
The doctor had passed her plenty of information over their weekly visits, but he’d always stopped short
of truly helping her. There was a freighter that came to Kanna7 every month, delivering supplies, and she’d subtly hinted that she was interested in the docking schedule. She’d mused aloud about escaping, about finding her way aboard the ship. Dr. Farraday only listened, sometimes offering an uninterested hmm. If he truly wanted to help her, he’d have given her the schedule, the loading bay, the window she’d have for potential escape. But his loyalties still lay with Burke.
So as Dr. Farraday inserted the needle into her arm and her blood began zipping through the tubing and into the bag, Thea wondered if she could get what she needed without mentioning Amber. She didn’t want to give Farraday any ammunition to use against her, and mentioning Amber meant admitting that she was in touch with Coen. It would put him and all of Paradox at risk. She could end up back in interrogation if Farraday slipped the info to Burke.
“The logic unit you mentioned last week,” she started carefully. “Where is that held?”
“In a centralized lab on the research levels. Why?”
“Just wondering. Is it guarded?”
“No. But the room is locked. You can only get to it with a key card, not that anyone would need to access it. The program has been running smoothly. Burke doesn’t want anyone touching the thing.”
“I need to access it,” Thea said.
Dr. Farraday’s gaze snapped up to meet hers.
“I need to shut it off. If the logic unit powers down, all those hosts will be able to think freely again. I don’t think you truly want them—or anyone at the summit—to get hurt. And I’m positive you don’t want the contagion to get out, but it can, Dr. Farraday. Burke’s planning to use those hosts—to use a biological weapon—to force the Union’s hand. One injury to a host, one scratch to an adult . . . It would spread like wildfire.”
The doctor rubbed his chin. “Even if you somehow managed to access the unit without a key card, you wouldn’t be able to power it down. It requires two sets of hands—two people to simultaneously turn a series of knobs. You should forget the whole thing.”
“I know you think you want independence, but this can’t be the only way.”
“What I want is my daughter back.”
The blood bag was nearly full. This was Thea’s only chance.
“If I told you she agrees to come back if you help me, would that make a difference?”
The doctor froze. His gaze stayed on the needle for the cameras, but a vein throbbed in his forehead.
“She’s with Coen,” Thea continued. “I can talk to him still. The connection came back after he awoke from cryo. You’ve been mistaking the jump in brain activity for me communicating with the other hosts.”
“Where is she?” Dr. Farraday gasped out.
“That’s not part of the deal.”
“Is she safe?”
“Yes.”
He swallowed. Pulled the needle from Thea’s arm.
“When the others leave for Xenia Station, you can get me from my cell for more blood work. We can head to the logic unit, power it down together.”
“And Amber will come home if I do this?”
“Yes. But if you tell Burke, if you speak to anyone about our plans or the connection, the deal’s off.”
He nodded. Perhaps he knew Thea would be tortured if he spoke up, meaning Coen, and therefore Amber, would be at risk. Or maybe he simply feared the consequences of even considering aiding Thea. She doubted Burke would take the news well. Whatever was going in Dr. Farraday’s mind, his pulse was steady, his shoulders held confidently.
“I’ll come for you when it’s safe,” he said, standing. “We’ll only have minutes before security realizes where I’m taking you. We’ll have to act quickly.”
“That won’t be a problem.”
“Then we have a deal.”
The week leading up to the summit was frantic. Thea kept as busy as she could, working out in her room while Coen updated her from Casey.
Sol and her mother had returned from Bev with enough AltCor to blow up a planet. The fleet was fueled with the new source of corrarium, each reactor tuned and inspected. Along with Paradox Technologies’ four dozen pilots, Nova had received a crash course in charging the flux drive, inputting destinations, and initiating jumps. Outside of underground sims in the Paradox bunker, there’d be no chance for her—or any of Sol’s pilots—to test if they’d truly mastered the drive. The Paradox crew would fly alongside the roughly six thousand Casey aeropilots that Sol had managed to recruit for their cause.
At least “recruiting” was the story Sol was trying to spin. If you asked General Northrop, who’d been barking orders at Sol via secured video feeds, Casey’s military had recruited Paradox. Even that was a stretch. It was more like they’d allowed several Paradox workers to join their mission because they felt obligated to extend some level of gratitude for the technology their battleship was now equipped with.
According to what Coen had relayed to Thea, Northrop’s crew would jump to Xenia from their own base, using their own battlecarrier. Paradox’s small crew would jump via the mid-sized battlecarrier Sol had used in their initial off-planet test. There was no point traveling to Northrop’s base for a singular job and risking a Radical spy picking up on the activity and reporting back to Burke.
The morning of the summit, Thea woke feeling sluggish. It wasn’t a blood draw day, but she recognized the fading fog of sedation. She’d been drugged.
She lurched upright. The glass wall that had divided her cell from Coen’s was gone, replaced with dark walls made of smooth, unadorned metal. There was no wash area or toilet. The cot was pushed against one wall. The lone door had a small window at its base, a water bowl resting before it.
Static filled her brain, endless, unyielding. It was like an ocean wave, but with little ebb or flow, just a steady roar of chaos.
Coen, something’s wrong.
No response.
Coen!
Thea felt him jostle awake—it had to be early on Casey still—and his focus sharpened instantly, homing in on her panic.
What’s wrong?
They moved me. I’m back on the Paramount.
Are you sure?
Yes. It’s my old cell. I’m not capped or collared. I think they’re—god, can you hear that?
Hear what?
That noise. Thea clamped her hands on her temples. It’s like when we first bonded, but worse, because this isn’t even coherent thoughts, it’s just static. Like a constant downpour of . . . Thea froze, realization dawning. It’s the hosts. Coen, I’m on Paramount with all the hosts. They’re bringing me to Xenia, too.
Why? His apprehension was thick, and Thea didn’t know how to abate it. This hadn’t been part of the plan. She was supposed to be on Kanna7 with Dr. Farraday. They were supposed to power down the logic unit while everyone else was at the summit.
It’s okay. We’ll carry on like usual, Coen told her, try to force the Radical’s surrender like we always planned. The logic unit would have been a bonus, but it’s not necessary.
Thea’s heart raced in her chest. She paced the small cell, trying to stay optimistic, but the static of the hosts was overwhelming, and she could barely hear Coen through them.
There’s one upside to this, he said. You’ll be where I’ll be in a matter of hours. We’ll both be at Xenia.
It was supposed to reassure her, set her at ease, but Thea could only focus on how she was missing something. There had to be a reason Burke suddenly wanted her with the other hosts. She just didn’t know what it was.
An hour later, Thea was still in her cell, the static drilling into her head like an ice pick while Coen headed to Paradox’s hangar with Nova to prep for their jump. It was still roughly six hours away, but they wanted to be ready.
Thea had no idea how to fill that time. She was helpless, isolated. The noise of the hosts was unbearable. She’d tried reaching out to them, offering reassuring words and attempting to talk them out of their frenzy. It was no use. The static block
ed her from them as much as it blocked their thoughts from her.
Footsteps clanked down the hall, startling her. They paused outside her door. She could make out a shadowy pair of legs through the fogged glass window.
“It’s me,” came Dr. Farraday’s voice.
Thea ran to the window, crouching beside it.
He reached inside, removing her water bowl and replacing it with a fresh one.
“Everything can still unfold as planned. The logic unit is onboard with us, running off auxiliary power in engineering. It won’t work properly if it’s not near the hosts.”
“Why did they move me, too?” Thea asked. “They don’t need me.”
“I think Burke just wants all his investments under lock and key, where he can see them. I’ll come for you when it’s time. Update Amber for me?”
“Sure.”
He straightened on the other side of the door, and Thea listened as his boots clanked down the corridor.
Maybe this is even better than we’d planned, Coen said excitedly. When you finish with the logic unit, you can make your way to Docking. I can have Nova pick you up.
I’m pretty sure Xenia is going to have incredibly sophisticated security. Nova’s not going to be able to fly in.
One thing at a time. Just focus on how we’ll all be together in a matter of hours.
The minutes ticked by. Having Coen with her was all that kept Thea sane.
She kept thinking about his reassurances that this was good. She wanted to believe it was as simple as Burke keeping his assets in one place, but couldn’t understand why she hadn’t been put in cryo if this was the case. Thea had caused too many problems for Burke, and unlike Kanna7, this small cell on Paramount didn’t have the ability to vent sedatives.
A set of boots clicked their way down the hall. No, not a single set, but several. They marched to her cell, then tore open the door.