“Please, take a seat, Commander,” Tyra said, and indicated one of the chairs in front of her desk.
Commander Wheeler sat down, looking both tired and wary. “You should have already received a list of officers from both the Navy and the Marines...”
Tyra nodded. “I did.” As she said that, she indicated her eyes with two fingers, then pointed to Wheeler’s still-glowing green eyes. She opened and closed her fist a few times fast.
Wheeler caught on, and the light disappeared from her eyes as she turned off her ARCs. She slumped in her chair, as if someone had just cut the strings that were holding her up, and relief flickered through her gaze. “You think they’re watching us, too.”
Tyra inclined her head to the other woman, surprised that Wheeler had begun figuring things out on her own. “Who’s they to you, Commander?”
Some of the wariness returned to Wheeler’s eyes. “The admiral, the XO, Chief Ellis... whoever else was touched by the Faros.”
Tyra nodded slowly. “My daughter.”
Wheeler’s eyebrows shot up. “Your daughter?”
“Yes. She’s been showing signs of strange behavior lately—sociopathic is the word that comes to mind.”
“The admiral and the XO have been behaving strangely, too. They’ve been raving about Etherus with every other breath.”
“Really?” Tyra asked.
“They make it sound like idle talk, but...” Wheeler shook her head. “Anyone who knew them, would know that they didn’t join Astralis’s mission because they were against Etherus or the way he was running things. They joined the mission because they’re explorers at heart, and they wanted to know what’s out there.”
“So they’ve been displaying attitudes and behaviors that are out of character for them.”
“Yes, ma’am. They’ve also been showing an unusual amount of solidarity. Graves and Stavos rarely agreed on anything, but lately it’s like they’re two halves of the same whole.”
Usually the chief commanding officer of a ship would pick his or her own XO, but Astralis’s mission protocol dictated that the senior officer of the Marines had to be the XO in order to balance power between the two branches of the military.
Wheeler went on, “Ever since the Faros got to them, they’ve changed. We must have missed something in their probe analyses. I keep thinking we should have them re-tested, but if they are somehow compromised, then how can I suggest they get tested without drawing attention to myself? I might wind up dead the next day, the victim of an apparent accident.”
Tyra nodded. “Or they might just wipe your memory.”
Wheeler’s eyes sharpened. “They can do that?”
“I think they’d choose to wipe selective memories, such as the memory of your suspicions, but yes, I do. I signed the Emergency War Measures Act along with all the other councilors, and I remember signing it, but I know that it’s not something that I or any of the other councilors would have signed.”
“Then...”
“They have someone—or several someones—inside the Resurrection Center.”
Wheeler blew out a breath. “How are we supposed to fight this?”
“My husband and I already have a plan, but we were hoping you might help us.”
“What plan?”
Tyra explained what they were doing. When she was done, she added, “The dinner is in three days. You’ll be alone on the bridge at the time, so you should be able to keep an eye on things for us, maybe even buy us some time.”
Wheeler nodded slowly. “Risky, but if Stavos and Graves aren’t there, I think I could manage to help you. You say your husband is working with the Corettis to pull this off?”
Tyra grimaced. “Yes.”
“You realize they might have their own agenda for getting into the Res Center. They could hack some kind of back door into the network and then hold the ship’s wealthiest and most connected people ransom using their own minds.”
“Sounds like what the Faros are doing now.”
“Maybe, but for different reasons. We could be trading one devil for another.”
“Better the devil you know,” Tyra replied. “We can worry about re-securing the facility’s databanks after we’ve got the affected people in custody.”
Wheeler sighed. “I guess we don’t have much choice, but I might have been able to get a bomb for you.”
“Without someone noticing, or arousing suspicions? What business does a Navy officer have checking out munitions from storage? A Marine Sergeant might get away with that, but not you.”
“I guess you have a point there.”
“We can’t go looking for a Marine to help us without exposing ourselves to additional risks of discovery. At least we know the Corettis haven’t been compromised. What would be the point in Faros subverting them? They can’t make any decisions on board this ship.”
“Not important ones, anyway.”
Tyra nodded. “So, can we count on you, Commander?”
“Timing will be crucial. How are we supposed to keep in contact without exposing ourselves to the ships’ comm officers, or even simple eavesdropping?”
Tyra opened a drawer in her desk and pulled out a handful of small, transparent ear plugs with flexible arms for microphones. She placed them on the desk and waved a hand over them. With that gesture, the devices shimmered and vanished.
Wheeler leaned forward, peering at eye level with the desk and looking for some sign of the cloaked comm units, but there wasn’t even a glimmer.
“Off-the-grid comms. How am I supposed to talk into one of these without the rest of the crew over-hearing?”
“They’ll connect up with your ARCs for text-only comms.”
Wheeler nodded and waved her hand over the devices. The air shimmered once more and they reappeared. “Where did you get these? The Corettis?”
“The Corettis,” Tyra confirmed.
Wheeler took one of the comm units and placed it over her right ear. Having done that, she waved a hand past her ear and it vanished once more. Invisible accessories. Criminals used them all the time. Sophisticated scanners could still find them, but they got past all the more casual inspections.
“I’ll send you a message a few hours before the dinner, at fifteen hundred hours,” Tyra said.
“I’ll be waiting,” Wheeler replied.
Tyra breathed a sigh of relief. “It’s good to have you with us on this.”
Wheeler nodded. “I’m glad I’m not the only one who’s been noticing things.”
Tyra nodded. “Let’s hope we can find the evidence we’re looking for. If we fail, we’ll likely all wake up in the Corrections Center with no idea of how we got there.”
“Then you better make sure this works. Just whatever you do, don’t actually blow up the center.”
“The bomb is a bluff.”
“But it is a real bomb?” Wheeler asked.
Tyra nodded. “My husband tells me it has to be, or the ship’s sensors will reveal that it’s a bluff.”
“Exactly. I guess that’s the Corettis’ part in all this. Just make sure you keep an eye on them.”
Tyra nodded. “I’ll mention your concerns to my husband. One way or another, it’s in their best interests to help us catch Ellis and the others.”
“Sure, but after that...”
“All bets are off.” Tyra nodded. “I’m with you there, Commander. We’ll be careful.”
“Good,” Wheeler replied. “Let’s hope that’s enough.”
Chapter 41
Astralis
Lucien sat with Tyra on the living room couch, her head leaning on his shoulder, his arm around hers. They watched the fire crackle in the hearth, mesmerized by the flickering flames, warming themselves by its light and each other’s heat.
The kids were asleep—Atara in her room, and Theola in her crib in the master bedroom upstairs. They’d moved her crib now that they knew what they were dealing with.
Brak was out on the deck, enjoying the col
d—he said it reminded him of New Noctune, the facet of New Earth that had been modeled after the world where his species had evolved.
That left him and Tyra alone together, enjoying a rare moment of intimacy that left Lucien feeling whole again for the first time in a very long time. They’d grown so far apart over the past few years that it was easy to forget how close they used to be. Lucien allowed his eyes to drift shut.
“I wish this could last forever,” he mumbled.
“Mmmm?” Tyra asked.
Lucien repeated that sentiment, louder this time.
“I’d like that, too...” Tyra said, but trailed off as if she’d left something unsaid.
Lucien glanced down, seeking her gaze. “It could last. We could be like this again. All you have to do is resign from the council.”
“And then? Do what?”
Lucien shrugged. “Whatever you want. So long as it’s nine to five instead of nine to nine.”
“We’d have to move. We won’t be able to afford to live like this anymore. We might even have to leave the surface level.”
“So? We get an apartment in the districts like everyone else. Is that so bad? We can still visit the surface, use the parks, go to the restaurants. All we’d miss is the view—” He gestured to the picture window beside them, the world beyond cloaked in the shadows of the night. “You’re never here to appreciate that, anyway.”
Tyra straightened, and her head left his shoulder; he removed his arm from around hers, and suddenly they were two mismatching halves again.
Lucien grimaced, angry at himself for ruining the moment by bringing up an old argument, and angry at Tyra for reacting the same way she always had.
The fire crackled in the hearth, and they watched the flames dance. After a while, Lucien glanced back at his wife. There were tears glistening on her cheeks.
“Tyra?” he asked, surprised to see that.
“Okay,” she said.
“Okay...?”
“I’ll resign.”
Lucien blinked, not sure whether to trust his ears. He’d waited so long for her say those words that now he couldn’t be sure he’d actually heard them. “You’ll...”
Tyra turned to him, and nodded once. “I’ll resign. We’ll move to the districts, and then we’ll be a family again.”
Lucien pulled her into a fierce embrace, wrapping her up and cradling her to his chest. He breathed in the scent of her hair, reveling in the moment. His heart felt like it might explode.
“You’ve made me so happy,” he whispered.
Tyra shook in his arms, crying. “I’m sorry it took me so long.”
He withdrew to an arm’s length to look her in the eye. “What changed your mind?”
She shook her head. “All of this. You, sending your clone to join the expeditionary forces. Atara, being turned into a...” Tyra trailed off for lack of words to describe what had happened to their daughter.
A faro? Lucien thought.
“Our family is falling apart, Lucien, and suddenly me being the councilor of a city that doesn’t even exist anymore doesn’t seem so important.”
Lucien nodded. “We’ll put the pieces back together as soon as this is over. I promise.”
Tyra nodded hesitantly. “I talked to Wheeler today.”
“And?”
“She’s agreed to help us, but she doesn’t trust Coretti, Lucien. She thinks he’s got his own agenda for getting into the Resurrection Center.”
“I don’t trust him either, and he probably does have his own agenda, but we need to deal with one threat at a time.”
Tyra nodded. “That’s what I told her. Just... be careful, okay? Make sure you go into this with both eyes open.”
“I will.” Lucien pulled Tyra close and kissed the top of her head.
“I wish I were going with you.”
“We need you more at the banquet. You keep Stavos and Graves busy so Wheeler can do her part.”
Tyra pushed him away, but he didn’t have time to ask why, because she grabbed his shirt and pulled his lips down to hers for a real kiss.
With that, something snapped inside of Lucien and memories came flooding back, memories of all the good times, followed by visions of the bright future ahead. They were going to be a family again. Finally. Lucien couldn’t think of anything he wanted more.
All they had to do was reverse whatever had been done to Atara and get Astralis back from the Faros.
After that, life would be just about perfect.
***
Astralis
Atara sat in the dark on the landing at the bottom of the stairs. She’d been on her way up to see Theola. Poor, innocent little Theola. Atara smirked at the thought of her baby sister. One-year-olds were funny. They would put almost anything in their mouths.
Atara opened her fist, revealing a small, gleaming glass ball. She’d stolen it from a flower vase and had been on her way up to wake Theola and show her the pretty new toy.
But on her way up the stairs, Atara had overheard her parents talking in the living room, and she’d stopped to listen in. She knew they were suspicious of her, so she had to take advantage of moments like these to figure out what they were planning to do about it.
Most of their conversation was sappy and meaningless. Atara was just about to continue up the stairs when she overheard something interesting—
“I talked to Wheeler today.”
“And?”
“She’s agreed to help us, but she doesn’t trust Coretti, Lucien. She thinks he’s got his own agenda for getting into the Resurrection Center.”
“I don’t trust him either, and he probably does have his own agenda, but we need to deal with one threat at a time.”
“That’s what I told her. Just... be careful, okay? Make sure you go into this with both eyes open.”
“I will.”
“I wish I were going with you.”
“We need you more at the banquet. You keep Stavos and Graves busy so Wheeler can do her part.”
The mention of the Resurrection Center was interesting. Atara the five-year-old, knew nothing about the significance of her parents trying to get in there, but Atara the Faro knew plenty. It meant they weren’t just suspicious of her, they were suspicious of the others, too, and they were trying to get proof.
There wasn’t much Atara could do about it directly—five year-olds couldn’t alert security and expect to be taken seriously—but Atara could do something better than that. She crept down the stairs and back down the hallway to her room. She opened the door carefully, and shut it quietly behind her.
Once she was back in bed, under the covers, she activated her ARCs and composed a message, text-only, to Chief Councilor Ellis.
She attached the audio log from her ARCs and told Ellis to listen to the last five minutes of it.
Chief Ellis answered a few moments later, thanking her for the information. He also told her not to draw any more attention to herself—that meant giving Theola the glass ball would have to wait. Atara wasn’t happy about it, but she understood the importance of staying undercover, so she agreed to Ellis’s orders. For now.
After the conversation ended, Atara lay awake in bed, dreaming up other kinds of mischief she could cause. The ideas she came up with weren’t as much fun as slipping her sister a deadly new toy, but they would be amusing nonetheless.
Atara grew sleepy, and her hand relaxed. The glass ball fell from her hand and bounced noisily on the floor. Her eyes flew wide, and she watched the ball roll along the floor, gleaming in the dark. Oops.
A moment later, Atara heard footsteps in the hallway, and then the door to her room cracked open, and a bright wedge of light fanned out along the floor. She froze, listening to her parents whisper in the entryway.
“I told you she was asleep,” Tyra said.
“I thought I heard something...”
“Maybe it was Brak?”
“Look.” Lucien walked into view, and Atara shut her eyes to slits, watchin
g him through a veil of eyelashes. He bent to pick up the glass ball and showed it to Tyra.
“What’s that?” she asked.
Lucien straightened and held the ball up to the light. Tyra walked over to see.
“It’s from my vase!” she said, her whispers suddenly sharp. “But that’s up on the bar. How did she even reach that?”
“She must have stood on something,” Lucien said.
Like a bar stool? Atara smirked.
Both her parents turned to look at her, and Atara froze, not even daring to breathe.
“Atara?” Tyra asked, not whispering anymore.
They don’t know I’m awake. They can’t!
“Her ARCs are on,” Lucien said. “She’s awake.”
Oops. Atara noticed the subtle glow bouncing back off her eyelids.
“Atara...” Tyra pressed in a warning voice. “Stop pretending to be asleep.”
She cracked her eyes open and stretched. “Mmmm?” she mumbled sleepily.
Her parents came to stand beside her bed. Tyra went down on her haunches, her brow pinched with suspicion. “Why are you pretending to be asleep? And what are your ARCs doing on at this time?”
“I was watching cartoons, and I fell asleep. I wasn’t pretending.”
“So why didn’t your ARCs turn off?”
Double oops. ARCs were designed to turn off automatically when the wearer fell asleep, unless they were specifically set to always on. “I don’t know,” Atara lied.
“Well turn them off, we’ll look at the settings together in the morning,”
Atara nodded sleepily. “Okay...”
Tyra held up the glass ball. “Where did you get this?”
Atara shrugged. Her parents didn’t know her plans for that bauble. “It looked pretty,” she said.
“And you stood on a chair to reach the bar? You could have fallen and hit your head!”
You’d like that, wouldn’t you?
“Don’t do it again, do you understand me?” Tyra said.
Atara nodded. She’d do something else, instead.
“Turn off your ARCs.”
Dark Space Universe (Books 1-3): The Third Dark Space Trilogy (Dark Space Trilogies) Page 57