Saving Morgan

by MB Panichi

  “Your mother was—” A com chirped loudly. Maruchek pulled a small unit from his pocket. “Maruchek.”

  “Mr. Maruchek, there’s an update from Facility 2333. Would you like to take the call in your office?”

  “No. I’ll take it in the security office.” He killed the connection and looked at Morgan. “Please, make yourself comfortable. This shouldn’t take long.”

  Morgan nodded, startled by his abrupt departure. She stood motionless as the door snicked shut behind him. Make myself comfortable. Yeah. Right. She found herself moving to the huge mahogany desk and picking up the holo again to stare at the woman by the ocean.

  She’d never considered that she might resemble another person. I’ve never looked like anyone before. She bore no resemblance to either of her adoptive parents and until this moment, she’d never thought it strange. She never expected to look like them.

  She noticed a second holo frame on the desk, a cube with photos on four sides. She set down the frame gently and picked up the cube.

  The first holo in the cube was a more formal image of the woman who looked so much like her. The woman wore a mid-length black dress, lacy and cut much lower than she would’ve ever considered wearing. If she’d ever consider wearing a dress, which she wouldn’t. The woman smiled at the camera, but her eyes were guarded.

  Morgan turned the cube in her fingers. The next holo showed a young man in his later twenties, perhaps a formal graduation photo. His dark hair was pulled tightly into a ponytail at the nape of his neck. She sensed a seriousness about him, in the intensity of his eyes and the tight line of his mouth. He had Maruchek’s strong jawline and the same piercing gaze.

  The third side of the cube contained a holo of the woman playing with a dark-eyed, dark-haired toddler. Both sat cross-legged on a white carpeted floor with a pile of colorful geometric blocks between them. The boy laughed with delight, holding a bright yellow triangle up toward the camera. The woman appeared to be as delighted as the child.

  Morgan turned to the last holo: an image of the boy again, this time as an adolescent, grinning as he sat astride a black air-bike. He wore dark glasses and his shaggy hair fell past broadening shoulders.

  She had to assume the holos were Maruchek’s wife and son. She could see the resemblance between father and son, even mother and son, but it wasn’t the uncanny likeness between his wife and herself. She frowned, not quite able to come to terms with thinking of the woman as her mother. But unless Maruchek had gone through an awful lot of bother to create these photos and set up the whole situation, what other explanation could there be? And why would he go through that kind of work to lie to her?

  Slowly, she put the holo cube on the desk.

  Had her parents known about Maruchek? How could they live with a secret like that? And how could they not have told her, if they did know? Or had Maruchek hung the knowledge around their necks like an albatross, holding threats over their heads in exchange for their silence? After all, Rogan was doing something similar to Shaine.

  Morgan turned to the com console behind Maruchek’s desk. She needed to talk to her father. Maruchek had offered, after all, so it wasn’t like she’d be stealing com time. She leaned over and tapped open a line, typing in the familiar code. The screen went from black to gray with a small spinning icon. The words “transmitting com signal” scrolled slowly across the screen in blue script. A second later, her father’s image shimmered into motion as he picked up the call.

  “Morgan?” Vinn Rahn’s ruddy face broke into a wide grin when he recognized her.

  “Hey, Dad.”

  “Hey, kiddo. I called you earlier but you didn’t answer, and I was getting worried since you didn’t stop by yesterday, either. Where are you?”

  “I’m on Earth, actually.”

  “Earth?” he repeated. Vinn blinked unbelievingly and shook his head. “How the hell did you get there?”

  Morgan read his expression as a mix of worry and relief. She spread her hands, trying to find a reasonable explanation to give him. “The trip was kind of last minute,” she said.

  He nodded. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” His eyes narrowed. “What happened to your face?”

  Morgan touched her cheek. “Um, it was an accident. I’m okay.” She hesitated and finally blurted, “I’m in Tarm Maruchek’s office, Dad.”

  The color drained from Vinn’s face. A long silence ensued while he scanned the room behind her. Morgan saw his panic as he searched for words. Realization hit like a blow to her stomach. She could barely find the breath to whisper, “You knew, didn’t you?”

  A long beat. He nodded mutely.

  She slumped against the desk. Pain stung her arm and throbbed along her cheek, but those minor hurts were nothing compared to the ache in her chest stealing the breath from her lungs and threatening to bring her to her knees. How could you do this to me? “Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked.

  Vinn rubbed his forehead. He avoided her gaze, regret etching deep lines on his face. “Morgan, honey, I’m sorry,” he rasped. “We were going to, someday, but it never came up. And then, it just didn’t seem to matter.” He shrugged helplessly. “As the time passed, it just didn’t seem right to worry you. Me and your mom loved you, Morgan. I love you. Just—we didn’t want you to get hurt.” He sighed. Failure showed in the shadows behind his eyes and in the bowed line of his shoulders.

  “But how? Dad, how did it happen? I need to understand.”

  He looked away again, the heavy weight of past decisions clearly bearing down on him. Morgan thought he seemed suddenly so much older and so tired. She hated to see him hurting.

  He sat heavily in the chair she knew stood at the side of the table beside the com console. The automated camera followed his movement. His gaze turned inward when he spoke. “You know your mom had a miscarriage when we were working in the Belt.”

  Morgan nodded slowly.

  He continued, “That was true, but the timing was different from what we told you.” He rubbed his forehead again.

  Morgan wanted to shout, Just tell me! She fought her impatience, knowing it was a hard story for her father to tell as much as it was a hard story for her to hear.

  His voice cracked roughly. “The morning your mom miscarried—that was a terrible day. I don’t know my heart has ever hurt so much, Morgan, except when she died. We were both so devastated. I stayed with her all day into the night. Your mom was so sad, she cried and cried.

  “And then a man came to our hospital room. He was a big, tall, dark-skinned man. He had Mann-Maru Security credentials and said he couldn’t explain, but there was a baby girl who’d just been born and needed a family. He was very apologetic. He asked if we would take her and adopt her as our own. I think your mom just saw it as a way to bring back the baby girl she’d lost. We agreed. There was never any question, really. The nurse brought us the most beautiful baby girl we’d ever seen. And that was you, Morgan.” Tears rolled down his lined cheeks. He swiped at them. “I only spoke to Mr. Maruchek once, at a worker’s rally on Moon Base. He seemed to know me and asked if my daughter was well. That was all, but I knew.” He spread apart his hands. “I don’t know what else to tell you. I love you more than life. So did your mom.”

  Morgan wiped at her eyes, rubbing wet tracks from her face. She couldn’t find the words to express the emotions washing over her—disbelief, anger, sadness, understanding, love, forgiveness. So many things. Finally she looked up. “I love you, Dad,” she managed hoarsely.

  “Morgan—”

  She shook her head, cutting him off, suddenly unable to continue the conversation. “I have to go,” she whispered. “I’ll call again.” She cut the connection without waiting for a reply.

  She didn’t know how long she stood there staring at the blank screen, seeing nothing but the images in her mind of her mother—the only mother she’d ever known—and her dad, their life on Moon Base, the stints in the Belt when she was older, the last one ending with her mom’s
funeral. Then it was just her and her dad on Moon Base, struggling to move on.

  And now what? Did the truth change anything? Did it change everything? Or did it only create complications? Slowly, she padded across the thick carpet to the loveseat and sank onto it, emotionally and physically exhausted. She leaned back her head and stared at the ceiling, wishing she were in her quiet apartment on the Moon.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Shaine followed Rogan through the maze of hallways toward the suite of workrooms she always thought of as “Security Central.” Rogan’s office was accessible from the outer hallway as well as from inside the hub. They entered from outside rather than parading through the main Security center, which told her Rogan didn’t want her presence widely known. Not a good sign.

  He waited for her to precede him into the stark, dimly lit office. A com console and computer center took up most of the desk at the center of the room. A worktable with a lamp hung over it was tucked into the back corner. All the furniture and surfaces were black lacquer against flat black walls. Recessed lighting threw soft illumination into an alcove on the far wall where a single sculpture rested—a silver, geometrically styled figure of a naked running man with a spear in throwing position.

  Shaine sprawled into the austere chair in front of the desk and casually stretched her feet out in front of her.

  Her former boss gave her an annoyed look, but said nothing as he eased his bulky frame into the leather chair behind his desk. He picked up a comp pad, removed a data chip from a pocket inside his jacket and plugged it in. “I have a job for you, Wendt.”

  Shaine raised a brow. “You’re so short-staffed you need me to do your dirty work, Rogan?”

  He met her gaze coldly. “You’re just so good at what you do best,” he replied smoothly.

  She glowered at him. I am not that person anymore. I am not your fucking assassin. She said aloud, “Tell me what’s going on with Morgan.”

  “You haven’t figured it out yet?” Rogan looked disappointed.

  “She’s Maruchek’s daughter. The one everyone thought was killed with Arella.” She was surprised at how even her voice sounded. “That doesn’t tell me why someone wants her dead, or who’s doing the hunting.” She glanced at the photo on the pad he handed her. “Tyr Charun?”

  He nodded.

  Shaine dug through her brain for knowledge of the man. His company was Mann-Maru’s biggest competitor in the market. Tyr Charun and Tarm Maruchek had a decades-long history of adversarial relations. The two men were polar opposites and mixed like fire and liquid propellant. She had only met Charun once. Her dislike of him had been immediate and palpable.

  From what she knew, Charun was a devious little scumbag whose greatest skill was making money. He had no conscience and no work ethic other than having everyone else do his bidding. Most of the press he got was in the gossip rags because he lived fast and loose, hung out with the famous and fabulously wealthy, and went through women like water. He had always been high on the list of Rogan’s people to keep an eye on.

  She frowned. She was still missing something. “So Charun’s a bastard. What does he have to do with Morgan?”

  “Charun couldn’t have Arella Maruchek for himself, so he had her murdered. Now that he knows about Morgan Rahn, he doesn’t want Tarm to have a daughter, either. Especially one who reminds Charun so much of Arella. Charun needs to be eliminated. Immediately.”

  Shaine dropped the pad on the edge of his desk and shook her head. “No. No way.” She stood in a fast, fluid movement. “No.”

  “It’s not up for debate.”

  “Find someone else.”

  “You’re the best.”

  “I’m not suicidal.”

  Rogan smiled smugly. “Think about it this way, Wendt. If someone doesn’t eliminate Charun, it’s only a matter of time before you lose your girlfriend. He is obsessed.”

  “If I refuse?”

  “Then you live with the result, knowing you could have stopped your girlfriend’s death. Or I can put a hit out on you, since you can no longer be trusted.”

  Shaine ground her teeth, anger surging up and nearly choking her. She leaned over his desk, her fingers spread on the cold black surface. “Fucking bastard!” she growled. She wanted to strangle the son of a bitch.

  Rogan sat without flinching, calmly waiting her out.

  After a few seconds and a handful of calming breaths, she dropped into the chair. He had her by the balls. He knew it and she knew it. “Okay. Fine. You win.”

  “I never doubted it.”

  Shaine’s jaw clenched. “And Morgan’s not my girlfriend.”

  He shrugged. “I don’t really care who you sleep with, Wendt. Plans are already in motion. Be here at Central Ops at oh-six-hundred. Your second is Cord Barill. Ellerand is handling intel.”

  Shaine stood. She knew Barill and trusted him. At least he was smart enough to stay out of her way. “Am I dismissed, then?”

  He gestured to the door. “Go. Your girlfriend is staying with you in the main guest suite. I assume you remember the way.”

  She glowered at him and walked out, wishing she had the option to slam the door behind her. Instead, it slid shut behind her with a barely audible hiss. She walked fifteen meters down the hall and stopped at another door. She lifted a hand and slapped it against the palm reader.

  An instant later, the plain white door slid open and a friendly voice greeted her. “Hey, Wendt. I was wondering when you’d get here.”

  She stalked into an office cluttered with computers, comp pads, monitors and electronic bits and pieces. Kyle Ellerand perched on a rolling stool in the midst of the chaos. His dishwater blond hair hung near his shoulders, uncombed and in dire need of a trim. Small round glasses nearly hid his eyes. His black uniform looked as though he’d slept in it all week.

  Shaine scowled at him. “We need to talk.”

  He grinned. “Rogan being less than forthcoming?” he asked.

  A rolling chair stood near the door. Shaine grabbed the stack of papers on the seat and dropped them on a nearby counter. She flopped into the chair and skated it toward her friend. “Rogan’s a fucking bastard,” she said flatly. She glanced at the scattered bits and pieces around the room. A smile slid across her lips when she considered the man watching her. “It’s good to see you, by the way.”

  Ellerand laughed. “Glad you haven’t changed, hardass.”

  “Ha.” She sobered. “Fill me in. Tyr Charun wants Morgan dead. What’s the whole story?”

  He nodded, grabbed something off the desk and flipped it to her. She snagged the tiny data chip one-handed out of the air. He said, “Everything you probably want to know, a lot of crap you probably don’t. But I’ll give you the highlights. You really got yourself into the middle of it, didn’t you?”

  She rolled her eyes. “We were right about Morgan being Tarm’s lost child.”

  He nodded. “Does she know?”

  Shaine shook her head. “Unless Maruchek told her in the last hour, she doesn’t.” She looked down thoughtfully for a few moments and asked, “What else do you know?”

  “We were right about the security leak from the crew incident. That’s where Charun found out about her. According to the moles we have in Charun’s organization, he’s nuts over the whole thing. The story is that he and Maruchek were both in love with Arella before Maruchek married her. Arella was an obsession for Charun. That’s a lot of why Rogan figures it was Charun behind Arella’s assassination, even if they were never able to nail him. The crazy bastard even commed Maruchek a day ago to ask him how his children were.”

  “Are you fucking serious? Crazy is right. Tell me more about the leak.”

  Ellerand shrugged. “Pretty standard stupidity. The security report got leaked, complete with photos IDing the whole crew. I’ve been digging. Seems a clerk who’d been bought off by one of the big media conglomerates got hold of it. She insists the file was on a public access site. Turns out the report was accessible f
or about as long as it took her to find it and download it locally. Then it disappeared from the public server space. The trace file was left behind.”

  “Who put it out there?”

  “There wasn’t a digital signature on the file, but it had the original encrypted security access level. Only a few people with that level of access.” He grinned and tossed her a pad. “I’ve narrowed it down to two likely suspects, which I marked.”

  She scanned through the list of names on the screen, grinning ferally when she recognized the two marked names. “Alik Asai and Lissa Hedding. Gee. Such a surprise. My two favorite people in the world.”

  Ellerand laughed. “I’d personally put my money on Hedding.”

  “She still hasn’t gotten bored with kissing up to Maruchek?”

  “Not that I’ve noticed.” He smirked. “I haven’t been able to pin anything on her yet, though. Been through all her electronic communications, net links, everything. Asai’s too. Rogan’s got both of them under physical surveillance. I don’t think he’s come up with anything either. At least, nothing he’s let anyone know about.”

  Shaine nodded. Internal security leak. How in the hell did Rogan let that slip? The issue now was if either Asai or Hedding were involved, Morgan was in danger, even here in the compound. Fuck, fuck, fuck. What was Rogan thinking, bringing her here? Even if he thought he had a handle on his potential leaks, she needed to know what other security measures he had in place around Morgan. Rogan was good, but his first priority would always be Tarm Maruchek. Anything else—anyone else—came second.

  “Rogan’s got a plan up his sleeve,” Ellerand added. “He and Cord Barill were holed up in his office earlier today for a few hours. I couldn’t pick up a lot of what they were doing. They’re keeping it close to the vest and off-line, probably until we meet tomorrow. What I gave you is history, background, updated intel on Charun, and a copy of the security report.”

  “Any additional security around Morgan right now?”

  He shook his head. “No. I imagine he’s counting on your presence to keep her safe for the moment.” He swiveled around, reaching up to tap long fingers across a series of open windows on a monitor. Live video feeds shifted from window to window while he worked until, satisfied, he scanned the feeds a few moments and swiveled back around to Shaine. He considered her with a curious expression.