“Well, that is a conundrum,” I said, managing to keep my voice calm. “Do you know when she’ll be back?”
The secretary shook her head. Her eyes kept getting wider and wider. She was scared of me. I was Philip Coromina’s daughter, after all. Funny how I didn’t feel that power, not right now.
“She’s offworld,” I said, “not offsystem, right?” The right came out short and tense. I was afraid the answer would be no.
The secretary gave me a happy smile. A question she could answer, I thought. “Oh, no,” she said. “She just went to Catequil. To Starspray City. I just don’t know when she’ll be back.”
Starspray City? Of course, Dad had mentioned Dr. Banski’s involvement last night. For one brilliant second, I thought maybe this was all in my head, that Dad hadn’t lied, that Isabel really was out there to do admin. But then—why wouldn’t he have told me? Starspray City was part of my purview, as Assistant Vice President of Genetics.
Maybe that was why he’d kept it from me, I thought with a jolt.
“Have you tried her holo?” the secretary asked. It took me a moment to realize what she was talking about. “I know she was going to have limited availability on her trip, but if you were to contact her and leave a message, I’m sure she’d get back to you.”
I nodded. My thoughts were all in a haze. “I’ll do that, thanks.” I turned and stumbled out of the building, back into the pervasive heat. I wasn’t going to try Flor’s holo again. It was too easy to lie on a holo.
I went back to my office and sank down behind my desk. The climate control dried the sweat on my skin. For a long time, I just sat there, trying to put the pieces together. A man scanning the woods. An early internship. The interference on Dad’s holo.
He was there too. Catequil. I was certain of it, with that weak connection: the winds always interfered with the holos there.
Dad and Flor had taken Isabel to Starspray City.
I activated my lightbox and booked the first shuttle I could.
• • •
“Take us with you,” Daphne said.
I shoved another uniform into my suitcase. I’d already packed three; I had no idea how long I would be in Starspray City. As long as it took for me to find Isabel and bring her home. Or at the very least make sure she was okay.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I said.
“But she’s our sister, too!”
I stopped, straightening up. I didn’t want to tell Daphne the truth—that it could be dangerous. That I didn’t know what I was going to find out there.
“I know she is,” I finally said. “But you’re too young.”
Daphne scowled at me. It was a cop-out answer and I knew it. I zipped up my suitcase and pulled it off my bed.
“What if you need help?” Daphne pleaded. “What if we have to bust her out?”
“The company’s not keeping her imprisoned,” Adrienne said suddenly. She’d been in my room while I packed too, but she had kept quiet, sitting in the little alcove next to the window, her knees pulled up to her chest. Now she looked over at us. Her eyes were sunken into her face, and she looked like she hadn’t slept. “I mean, they wouldn’t do that, would they?”
I didn’t want to lie to her. But she and Daphne were both staring at me with big dark eyes, and I had to say something.
“Isabel hasn’t done anything wrong,” I said. “And Starspray City isn’t a prison.”
Neither were lies, at least.
Adrienne sighed and turned her gaze out the window. The sun was just starting to come up, and the pink light spilled around her. “I don’t understand why she didn’t tell us where she was going. Even with the high clearance. I mean”—her shoulders hitched—“we’re her sisters.”
I glanced at the clock on my wall; I still had time before I needed to be at the starport. I hadn’t requested a company shuttle, not for this. Too much of a chance that Dad would find out I was coming ahead of time. I hadn’t told my sisters that, though. I didn’t want my subterfuge to give them ideas.
I went over to the alcove and knelt beside Adrienne and wrapped my arms around her waist. She stretched out her legs and pressed her head on top of mine. “You don’t know what Flor told her,” I said. “We don’t know what her assignment is. She probably had to sign a waiver.”
I didn’t believe anything I was saying. I didn’t know what I believed.
“I mean, she didn’t even tell me,” I added.
Adrienne glanced at me. “But it’s different,” she said. “Our mom died, Esme. We have to watch out for each other.”
Her words were like a slap. For a moment, my whole body went numb. Daphne smacked Adrienne on the arm.
“You think I’m not worried about her?” I gasped. “That I don’t really think she’s my sister?”
Adrienne sighed. “That’s not—that’s not what I meant. It’s just hard, okay? Because we”—she tilted her head at Daphne, who looked down at her hands—“we remember her. Our mom. And Isabel doesn’t. And we just . . .” Her voice trailed away. My face was still burning. Part of me understood where she was coming from. It was like the language from when they were children. Something that bound them together and excluded me.
“It doesn’t matter,” Daphne said, breaking the silence. “She should have told one of us. It’s not like we’re going to run off to OCI or something.” Daphne looked over at me. “I mean, don’t you think this whole thing is shady?”
I stood up. I put aside thoughts of mothers, missing and dead. “I don’t know what I think. I just want to make sure Isabel’s okay.”
“So, you think there’s a chance that she’s not?” Adrienne said. “But she’s under company protection!”
I closed my eyes. Adrienne had a child’s view of the company: that it was a benevolent protector. I didn’t understand how she had gone so long without realizing otherwise. But then, she had been too young to remember the flu outbreak. And she never went into the village. Adrienne was too much of a good girl to cross those unspoken class lines. I doubted she’d ever logged into the Connectivity Underground, either. I wondered if Isabel had. If that might explain why this was happening.
But no, I’d never been punished for it.
“I’m going to find out what’s going on,” I said. “I’ll send you updates over the holo.”
Adrienne nodded. Daphne scowled. “I still wish you’d take us with you.”
In response, I just scooped her into a hug, which she begrudgingly returned. Then I grabbed my suitcase and told them it was time to go. Daphne nodded. Adrienne kept staring out the window.
“I promise I’ll find out what’s going on,” I told them.
• • •
The citizen shuttle did not fly directly into Starspray City, so I had to land in Rasok, on the edge of the continent closest to the lab, and then ride the boat across the choppy, windblown waters. The boatman confirmed my DNA with a quick blood sample, and he actually gasped when he saw my name splash across the lightscreen.
“Why’d you fly in here, Ms. Coromina?” he asked. “You know the CG shuttle has a landing pad out at sea—”
I reached across the counter and set a money chip in front of him. I had loaded it with enough credit to cover his salary for half a year; to me, that sort of money was nothing. “I’m trying to be discreet,” I told him. “I’d very much appreciate your help here.”
The boatman stared down at the money chip for a second, like he thought it was some kind of trick.
“It’s fine,” I said. “I’m not asking you to do anything illegal. But the company shuttle isn’t very discreet.”
He picked up the money chip and scanned it and made a little choking noise in the back of his throat when he saw how much money it contained. “I understand, Ms. Coromina. We can leave right away.”
He opened up the hatchway and I walked through the corridor to board the boat. The wind battered hard against the corridor walls, and it swayed back and forth. I pressed one
hand against the wall to steady myself. The flimsy material bulged disturbingly from the wind.
The trip across the water was unpleasant, as I expected it to be—the Coromina Group discouraged travel to Starspray City for all but the upper tiers of the company, and it did so in all the ways it could. This boat from Rasok only existed so that the janitors and admins who worked in Starspray City would have a way to access the mainland. Or in case there was some sort of emergency. It was not designed for comfort. The boat tilted with the waves, jerking me sideways in my seat. Nausea swelled up in my stomach and I eventually stretched out on the floor, my suitcase as a pillow, because it was the only way to feel comfortable. I stared at the ceiling, hoping a focal point would calm my seasickness. It didn’t do much.
An hour later, we arrived at the Starspray City docks. I thanked the boatman for his trouble—“No, thank you,” he said, bowing a little, patting the pocket where he’d slipped the money chip. “Have a nice trip, Ms. Coromina.”
I stepped off the boat into the swirling, rushing wind. Usually when I visited this place, I was greeted by a city admin. Not this time. There were no covered carts to take me to the hotel. I could call for one, of course, but the carts were automated, and there was no way to pay for a computer’s discretion.
So, I walked.
The hotel wasn’t far, only a couple of blocks, but the wind made it feel longer. By the time I saw those spinning mechanical doors, my body ached as if I had been beaten. But when I stepped inside, the stillness was disconcerting. The lobby of the hotel felt dead.
The clerk glanced up at me, frowning. She checked her lightbox. I hadn’t contacted them ahead of time, and the hotel in Starspray City was not a place where travelers just happened to find themselves.
“I won’t be in the system,” I called out, strolling across the lobby. It was empty, for which I was grateful; it was risky, coming there, because this was where Dad and Flor would be staying. But there was only one hotel in Starspray City.
“Oh?” the clerk raised an eyebrow. I pulled out another money chip and curled it up in my palm. This was a much more expensive trip than I had led Daphne and Adrienne to believe.
“I’m Esme Coromina,” I said. “I’ve stayed here before.” I set the money chip on the counter and the clerk stared at it. “I should be in your files. I’d like a room, although I don’t know exactly how long I’ll be staying. I’d also appreciate your”—I nodded at the chip—“discretion.”
The clerk’s hands were already flying over her lightbox display. “Ms. Coromina,” she said, glancing between the lightscreen and my face. “Yes, I see you here. I hope you won’t mind terribly if we confirm your identity?”
I held out my hand by way of an answer. After she had checked my DNA, the second pinprick sting of the day, she slid the money chip off the counter.
“Welcome to Starspray City, Ms. Coromina.”
She had given me one of the lower-tier rooms, a detail I appreciated and one I hadn’t thought to ask for. It occurred to me, as I dragged my suitcase in the small, cramped room, nothing more than a bed and tiny closet of a bathroom, that the hotel staff knew how to handle under-the-table visits. I suspected I wasn’t the first Coromina Group employee to come to Starspray City outside the proper channels. The thought made me queasy. I wasn’t there to betray the company. I wasn’t some OCI spy. I just wanted to find my sister.
I changed into a fresh suit—the one I’d been wearing was damp and coated with a fine layer of salt from the wind and the sea spray. I brushed the wind-tangles out of my hair, yanking hard on my scalp, and then finally pulled the whole mess back into a slick bun. I stared at myself for a moment in the mirror. I had come all this way, crossing the inky black of space, and I still didn’t know what I was going to say to Flor or my father when I found them. In business, I always prepared my statements ahead of time. I did not like to be caught unawares. But this wasn’t business.
I left my room and went back down to the lobby. It was still empty, the chandeliers throwing off hollow fragments of light, the seats at the bar waiting for revelers to fill them. The clerk nodded at me as I made my way to the underground path that connected the hotel to the laboratory’s guest building. I knew damn well I wouldn’t find Flor there; the guest building was a formality that rarely went used, as anyone visiting Starspray City should already know where they are going. But it was a place to start.
The tunnel was well lit, and carpeted, so my footsteps didn’t echo off the walls. It was decorated with light photos of the soldiers produced in Starspray City, their portraits hovering in the air. I recognized all their faces, even if I didn’t know these particular soldiers. The Coromina Group had baseline models, with features chosen to represent the Corominan ideal. Thick black hair and golden-brown skin. Strong jawlines, sharp cheekbones. It wasn’t that the models all looked the same but more that they were imprints of each other, copies of copies that followed me all the way to the guest building.
The lobby of the guest building was Starspray City’s cathedral, a huge, cavernous room with skylights that revealed the gray, stormy skies. It was empty save for a single white desk, behind which sat a man with black hair and golden skin—a soldier. Except he wasn’t a soldier. He was just one of our models, grown not to fight in foreign wars but to sit behind this desk and greet anyone who came snooping around the laboratory. He lifted his dark eyes when the door slammed behind me, the sound echoing up through the empty space.
“May I help you?” he said.
“My name is Esme Coromina,” I said.
He didn’t react. I began walking the massive space that separated us. His eyes followed me the entire way. When I reached his desk, I said, “I’m Assistant Vice President of Genetics. I need to speak with Flor DeCrie. I was told she was in Starspray City.”
“I’ll need to scan you.”
I held out my hand. Whenever I came there on official business, I didn’t have to deal with this kind of security. And I knew with each prick of blood it became more and more likely that my father would learn I was planetside.
“I see,” the guard said, his lightscreen flowering into life. “Welcome, Ms. Coromina. But it says here you don’t have any scheduled business here in Starspray City.”
“That’s right,” I said. “I’m here to see Flor DeCrie.”
“She’s not expecting you.” He watched me with careful eyes. A created person, designed and built by the Coromina Group. I hadn’t thought of the engineered soldiers like that in years. But for some reason, in that moment, it was all I could think about.
“No,” I said. “I couldn’t get ahold of her holo. But the matter couldn’t wait.”
The guard watched me, said nothing.
“It’s a security concern,” I said, drawing up my spine, gazing at him coolly from under my lashes. “A potential OCI propaganda breach involving our manufactured soldiers.”
Did his face flicker when I said manufactured soldiers? We designed them specifically so that they wouldn’t see their existence as anything unnatural—a few genetic tweaks here and there, some light training when they were first decanted. But sometimes things slipped through.
“OCI propaganda?” He frowned.
“Yes. I can’t say anything more than that.” I tapped my foot against the tile, lifted my chain. “It’s a high clearance level. Please let me speak with Ms. DeCrie.”
The guard sighed. “Give me a moment, Ms. Coromina.” He turned to his lightbox. All I could see was a pattern that reminded me of the wind blowing outside, abstract swirls spiraling in on themselves. He was typing his message, whatever it was. Typical practice in all the labs. The messages would be encrypted and then dissolved once they reached their target. No chance for eavesdroppers.
It felt as if years had passed. Eventually, the guard turned to me again. “She’ll be here in just a moment, Ms. Coromina. You may go into the waiting room if you wish.” He pressed a button under his desk and a door slid open in the wall, revealing a
room with plush seats, a table filled with food.
“Thank you.” I breezed in. He didn’t close the door behind me, and I could look out at the big empty lobby. I wondered if she was really coming to see me, or if this was some kind of power play, if she would leave me waiting for as long as I could stand it. I checked the time on my portable lightbox. If she wasn’t there in ten minutes, I would start making demands again.
I sat down. Scrolled through my messages—nothing urgent, just some specifications that needed approval, some production notes from the lead scientist at one of the smaller labs. Nine minutes passed. Flor still wasn’t there. I went back out into the lobby.
The guard looked up at me like he expected to see me.
“Did you tell her this was urgent?” I asked.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Coromina,” the guard said. “But she was on the other side of the city. It will take her time to arrive here—”
“Nothing is more than seven minutes, if she’s taking a cart,” I snapped. “Contact her immediately and tell her that my time won’t be wasted.”
My words were sour on my tongue. I preferred a more slippery approach to business, a kind of meandering around the matter until I could convince my partner to reach the same decision as me. But, I kept telling myself, this wasn’t business.
The guard typed out his message on his lightscreen. His expression didn’t change. “She assures me she’s on her way, Ms. Coromina.”
I checked the time. “Seven minutes,” I told him, and then I went back into the waiting room. I was too restless to sit. I poked around at the food, all of it prepackaged and unappealing. I didn’t have an appetite anyway. I looked at my lightbox—five minutes. I scowled. I didn’t want to harass that poor guard again.
And then I heard the click click click of heels on tile.
I stalked out of the waiting room to find Flor striding across the empty lobby. She was trying to keep her expression cool and dispassionate, but she was failing—there were tells in the way her brow was creased in irritation, the way her eyes flashed when she saw me.
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