by Anna Gaffey
Santos whistled in his ear. He looked up, then down. She was at least five meters below him, almost at the next level, and clinging to the station hull with the help of a delicate sparkling grapple wire.
“You are sick,” he shouted at her. “Seriously. Sick.”
“Hey, we each deal with stress in our own way.”
“Yes, it’s very soothing, watching your crewmember become the first-ever human comet.”
She scaled up beneath him and patted his boot. “Calm down.”
“I’m currently rational. This, hear this? This is sane-speak. You’re the one who—you sadistic—okay, you know what? Fine. Jump around, get your kicks and leave me out of it, you crazy fucking space ape.” Jake closed his eyes and tried to regulate his breathing. No need to panic. He tightened his gloved hands around the handles. No need, damn it. His last EVA eventually came to an end: this one would, too. His suit’s heater thrummed into life, and he relaxed a fraction.
He opened his eyes and fumbled himself sideways, the better to observe Santos as she scaled back up alongside him like a sleek pale spider. The rippling blue sheen of the containment field blanketed the station hull from stem to stern, both barrier and protection, while Selas glistened cold and green beneath them.
Santos waved a glove in front of his face, startling him. “Any time you’re ready.”
Jake wheezed. “It might be a while.”
“Don’t be crabby.”
“Hey, I didn’t ask for the damn catapult, so don’t blame me.” But the sight of Selas had calmed him. He wheezed out a couple more breaths. “So you really think that Lindy’s in on this?”
Santos lost her euphoria instantly. “I don’t know, but I’m worried. Like Kai said, Mick’s no hacker.”
“You don’t have to be to steal a code. You could just be sneaky.”
“Mick? Sneaky?” Santos started to say something else, but then their comms crackled. Dr. Lindy’s voice was acidic enough to fleck the station hull.
“Pardon me, but I hear we’re under attack. Nice of you all to enlighten me.”
She sounded the same as always. Perhaps that was feeble evidence, but Mick certainly hadn’t sounded like himself. And Mei had seemed another person entirely. “What, Kai’s not enlightening enough for you?” Jake asked.
“He did try. I’ll give him that. But now he’s ass-deep in connections and gems and a mite less talkative.”
“We’re mid-EVA, Doc,” Santos said. “Can it wait till we get back inside?”
“I’ve got my final results from Dr. Silverman’s labs.”
Jake’s palms were slippery with sweat inside his gloves. He dialed down his suit heat a notch, and pressed his grapple suction against the station hull. Suction, ease down, grip the next handhold, breathe. Slowly, slowly. In all available studies, EVAs proved 99.9993 percent error-free when the participant moved with slow deliberation. Rebecca had always said they sounded like fun, probably because she’d never done one. Once, when they were children, she’d talked weightlessness over breakfast through a mouthful of oatmeal, only a handful of freckles on her face then, and the tabletop had a long crack in the finish, a long crack like a vein, swollen, jaundiced yellow flesh, Rebecca—Jake crushed the memory down. He should not have come out there. He had told Santos.
Ease, ease. Breathe in, breathe out. Clear, black space, billions of stars. No nightmare, now’s not the time. The shimmer of containment washed silently overhead. Think about Silverman, her labs. “Let’s hear it, Doc.”
“Officially, cause of death was a stroke. My initial exam suggests it was brought on by extreme depletion of nutrients, but that’s not lab certified yet. Won’t be for another hour, give or take our computer situation.” Lindy sounded almost chipper.
“So, what—she starved to death in a few hours?”
“Looks like. She’s dry as dust. She and Carmichael are almost identical twins, symptomatically, except he’s improving. But that isn’t the sticking point.”
“Oh, well then.”
“Two points, in fact. Two problems. First, she’s got marks around her neck. They’re not the cause of her death, but they were made almost immediately beforehand.”
Santos came to rest beside Jake. Her legs knocked against his, jarring him into the station wall. “Say again?” she asked.
“Someone throttled her. I analyzed the wound site for DNA, grip width, finger radius, the works. Nothing matched our station crew files. There are scant bits of dark fiber in her hair, on her neckline, fiber that doesn’t match any of the fabric samples from uniforms and the Harmon carpeting. So I think we need to revisit Griffin’s story about how they found the body.”
Jake choked back his dismay. Santos cursed. “I don’t want to do that over a frequency, Lindy, when he’s got fuel to vault away in a blink.”
“Second problem.”
“Yes?”
Lindy paused. “I’m not sure how yet. But this woman has, or had at the time of death, something damn close to an old-time immune system.”
“Old-time?” Jake asked, startled out of his funk. “You mean—”
“Healthy as a horse, didn’t they used to say? It’s not quite like the historical ones, though. It’s better.”
Jake exchanged a look with Santos. “What’s better?” he asked.
“Damn near invincible, looks like. Doesn’t make any sense. In fact, I’d like a backup to help me verify these findings. Path tests, new blood draws from everyone. Make sure I’m seeing what I’m seeing. I let Mei out of my sight for a damn second…”
Santos cut her off. “That wasn’t your fault. Not just yours, anyway.”
Earlier, Jake had pointed to Lindy, Nat or Mei as possible suspects for messing with the enviro controls. But it could’ve been anyone inside the infirmary at that time. Which widened the field to include Rachel Santos. Santos, who had been so quick to throw suspicion on Con, the outsider in their midst, Santos, who could’ve entered a crap override code to throw them off the scent and onto Lindy… But Jake’s mind rebelled. If he couldn’t see Con as capable of being the culprit, Santos was an even unlikelier choice. It was too complex. Moreover, he trusted her.
Like you trusted Mei? And Mick? But Santos was behaving normally. The way Mei had gone, whatever had changed her had damaged any ability she had for subterfuge. Not to mention that the idea of Santos as culpable severely damaged Jake’s nonchalance at sailing through the vacuum with her. There was no better place to get rid of someone than in space.
Stop it. You’ll go even more unhinged than you already are. Stop.
If she wanted to get rid of him, she would’ve messed with his O2 pack. Or left him and Kai in Science to choke on halodine. He squeezed his eyes shut until the trembling shook out of him. “Maybe I should go back up. If Lindy needs help.”
“After.” Santos was firm.
“Jake?” Lindy’s voice.
“Yeah?”
“Kai needs to talk to you on private frequency. It’s urgent, he says.”
“Right.” Jake spoke the code and cut himself off from their conversation. “Kai, can it wait? We’re only halfway down. Is it Lindy?”
“No, it can’t wait.” Kai’s voice was terse. “And Lindy’s fine. I think.”
“You think. That really inspires confidence, Kai.”
“Just listen. I read the documents on the gems and the tablet. Well, some of them.”
What fresh complication was this? Also, what an asshole, couldn’t Kai ever just follow instructions? “I told you, Kai—”
“Listen. Just shut up for once, all right? The Warringer tablet was encrypted. Something weird. New. I couldn’t get into all of Silverman’s documents, but I broke the first level on a few log entries, and you need to hear about them.”
Jake blew out a breath. “Fine, hit me.”
“She talks about you, Jake. It’s all up and down about how she’s coming out to Selas to get something from you, or take you back to Earth with her. I mean, I’m confu
sed as hell here. Is she the one who recalled our scientists? I didn’t know you even knew her.”
“I don’t.” It rolled off Jake’s tongue before he could stop the lie. He had known her. He didn’t know any specifics, he didn’t remember her, but, added to vid-Jake and the Warringer, all of this was enough to convince him. The question was how well.
The brief, skeptical pause over the comm told him Kai thought so, too. “Sure,” Kai returned. “She just knows you, then. From afar. Which is why you were able to open her briefcase.”
“Kai, damn it, I don’t know why I could do that.”
“I get she’s not a problem or danger or anything now. She’s dead and all. But this is weird shit, Jake. And I’m not stupid, I can figure out what she wants to take from you. She’s talking about the—” He dropped his voice. “The serum. Restore. And how important it is. Is. Present tense. What does that even mean? Are you doing illicit shit here? I thought they fried that out of you.”
“No.”
“No, they didn’t fry it out of you?”
“No, I’m not doing illicit shit, Kai. Jesus, as if I could do anything secretive without you finding out.”
“True,” Kai allowed. “So. I’ve been searching her in the database just now. At least the bit of Heart I can get to, I see she was called in your trial, but only as a lab consultant.”
“That sounds familiar,” Jake hedged. “I mean. Yes. I remember her testifying.”
“But you need to get this. I checked the passenger database?”
Jake had asked Con for the passenger database, just before Lindy had interrupted them with questions about…intrusion. Foul play. That time of death had occurred just before the party. “Right. I was going to do that.”
“Sure, whatever. Anyway, I verified Silverman’s bag storage. But she only had three, Jake. Three. The Warringer makes four.”
I had my copilot run through the Harmon security feeds, Con had said. Corridor security monitors outside the quarters don’t show anyone but Dr. Silverman going in or out. Not for the entire time, from when she left stasis till the hail rang.
“Lindy says she had marks on her neck.”
“Yep.” Kai paused. “So I’m betting someone left it there, after they. You know. I just—where do we go from here?”
“Nowhere.” Jake’s heart was heavy with dread. Con, Con, you’re either a dupe or a damned liar. “It’ll have to wait until we finish with Mick. And Mei. Plaguing hells. I…we’ll report back soon. Until then, sit on it. We’ve got enough to worry about. You’re sure Lindy’s okay?”
“As sure as I am about you and Santos.”
“Can her code shut down the protocol?”
“We tried. Heart recognized her authority, but for some ratbag reason the protocol is still ticking away. I’m working on it.”
“Keep trying.” What a goddamn day. Days. “Kai? Thanks.”
“No need.” But Kai sounded pleased. “Hang in there…out there.”
Jake cut the dead private-comm link and tuned back in to Lindy and Santos’ channel.
“…back to my main concern. Do we evac? I don’t want to move Carmichael unless it’s imperative.” Lindy paused. “Though I’d sure like to avoid death by decon.”
“As would we all,” Santos agreed. “But I want to go about this the right way, without any unnecessary casualties. Gods. I can’t believe I’m talking about casualties…I shouldn’t be the one in charge…”
“Keep it together, now.”
Jake let their voices dwindle and narrowed his attention to their slow floating descent, the suck and press and jolt of his grapple, the useless kick of his legs against nothing. His stomach rolled uneasily.
There was nothing for it. They’d get into the cargo bay, do whatever needed to be done to Mick and Mei, and then Jake would have to sit down and iron out the wrinkles between his and Silverman’s past. Presumably while Santos coaxed information out of Con. With the revelations of Kai and Lindy, she’d have a broad opening.
Even with the silver of starlight and the patterned runnels of the containment field’s shadow rolling over them, it was so damn dark. Shadows had shadows out here. His helmet did have the small regulation headlamp, but it was pathetic, spreading only a flickering dribble of light on the station wall before him. He felt heavy, sticky inside the suit, and he took deeper, more controlled breaths. His chest ached with them, as though he were breathing in the swampiness. The thought made him cough. Santos laid her gloved hand over his.
“…going to finish this now. We’ll report back up to you and Kai in fifteen or sooner, don’t make a move until then if you can help it.” She clicked off, and surveyed Jake with calm dark eyes. “Lindy sounds like herself. I don’t know how trustworthy that is, but I don’t know what else to do. What about you? You gonna make it?”
No and no. “I think so,” Jake said. “But I feel…hot.”
“Hot” was an understatement. He was sweltering inside his suit.
“Relax. Suit’s not going to mash you. I can’t believe you haven’t done one of these in almost a year.”
“I did tell you.” He tried unsuccessfully to shake the grease of sweat off his brow. “But there’s really no need, with the pods. And we can’t all be thrill seekers.”
Santos sighed. “Look. I know I’m missing something big here, Jake.”
“All right.”
“And I need you to tell me what it is.”
So he did. They descended slowly under the containment’s ribboning cover, and he told her everything, everything, from Con’s bright gaze under the Saint Paul dome, to Carmichael’s fears and the gems and Con’s dossier, to the dreams and the increasingly encroaching nightmares and the attacks. He tried to explain Con’s—no, his memory gem. She was quiet throughout, until he mentioned Kai’s conjectures.
“I remember that. That was a big deal, because the Gov Board thought Silverman was involved with your tests, since she was working locally.”
“She was on file as our lab consultant, nothing more. Obviously I don’t remember her from that. Just the trial.”
“And you don’t remember anything from the serum accident.”
“Nope.” Or did he? The blur of images that had swept him while he’d kissed Con that first time outside his quarters: broken glass, scattered across a lab table. Vials of yellow liquid, sharps, swabs, tablets, a scanner. Con’s face, Con’s voice far away and yet in his ear. “No, I won’t.” Jake was too flushed from his suit’s heat to redden any further. “At least, I—nothing concrete. Nothing apart from the nightmare, and that’s constructed by the implant.”
“So it’s possible, then.”
“What is?”
“That she could’ve been there. Alice Silverman. And from what Kai is saying, it sounds like she’s familiar with you and Restore. I mean, more familiar than someone like me.”
“That’s—well—hmph.” Jake chewed on it as they pressed downward. His grapple suctioned gently against a large dark blue 5, and he shook his head slightly. They were at the fifth level already? Alice Silverman had been there, as in she’d been complicit, part of the testing? “You forget, though. I was there at the trial, and they asked her these things. If the Court thought anything was funny about her testimony, they would have loaded her full of Clarify and put her back on the stand.”
He was babbling now, anything to keep out the niggling, hopeful dread that things could be easy, could be open-shut, bad-good, Defense-bastards, Science-bastards, et cetera, forever. Blame it all on Silverman, she was the one.
“And you said she funded Con’s contract?”
Which implied that Con was involved, too. “Yes. Well, a branch of Science, one that she’s part of.”
“And in the vid, you, the younger you, talked like you knew him.”
“Yes.”
“You’re the genius here,” Santos said. She detached her grapple, swiveled herself neatly around, and gripped Jake’s arm for balance. Show-off. “If I see the conn
ection, you must.”
“Of course I do. And that’s why it doesn’t make any sense. Why would he give me the vid if I wasn’t supposed to see this connection? It—I told myself everything.”
“Maybe he fabricated the vid.”
“Why?”
Santos shrugged with some difficulty. “Because he’s a plant who didn’t know you till after the trial?”
“You sound like Carmichael.” As soon as he said the words, he wanted to erase them. But Santos didn’t bite. In fact, she wasn’t even looking at him. “Sorry, Rachel.”
“No worries.”
“I just can’t think of Con that way. I know it’s unreasonable. But I can’t figure out his motivations, and I can’t condemn him without more data.”
“What do you need, a confession?”
Jake considered. “Sure. That’d be nice.”
Santos muttered something profane. “I don’t know how you can be such a paranoiac and still have such a serious blind spot.”
“I’ve spent the last five minutes telling you everything I suspect him of, and you think I don’t have any self-awareness?”
“Nope. Not you.” She sounded almost wistful, and Jake looked sharply at her, but she was still turned toward the stars.
His suit was boiling him alive. There had to be a malfunction. “Thanks for the support. I think you’re threatening him enough for everyone, what with the glares and the distrust and the frygun and—what was with that stallion crap, anyway?” His thoughts were starting to bleed together. “Although. Silverman’s immune system…” There was a connection. Something between Silverman’s super-health and something his younger self said about Con, something in the vid. When people find out we beat this. Yes, yes, he’d said: Our one successful human subject. You know, the guy who gave you this memory gem. The way he looks now, the way his immune system looks, it’s amazing.