She stood behind the counter and her large black stationary box, her eyepiece activated, rubbing the smooth dark skin of her forehead. She’d been crying yesterday when Tadeo came in for the import and export personnel files, but now she looked composed. Her bloodshot eyes flicked toward him, and she folded her hands in front of her. “Lieutenant Raines, what can I do for you?”
Tadeo licked his lips and slid his shift card across the counter. “Personnel records.”
Mali waited a moment, then her brow furrowed. “Where’s the order cube?”
“No cube.”
“I need—”
“It’s a verbal order.”
Mali raised a brow. “A verbal order from the president?”
Another surge of adrenaline flowed through Tadeo. “Are you questioning my orders?”
Mali bit her lip and backed up from him a small step. She glanced toward the comm station. “I… I can’t pull archival records without an official order.”
“I’m on the president’s personal guard now, Archivist. And we need this order now.”
“I have to have an order cube,” she said, wringing her hands together. “That’s the rule.”
Tadeo leaned over the counter and met her gaze. She looked frightened of him. Good.
“This is an urgent records pull for an ongoing investigation,” Tadeo said, warning in his voice. “And you will pull it now.”
“The cube order—”
“Pull it now,” Tadeo commanded.
“I can’t do it,” Mali said. She swallowed hard and pushed his shift card back to him.
“Can’t or won’t?” Tadeo’s pulse buzzed in his ears, and a tiny edge of discomfort spread within him at the thought that he might not be successful in this.
Mali blinked and pressed her lips together.
He placed his hand over his card, making to take it back. “You’ll be punished for disobeying a direct order from the president’s personal guard,” he said, his voice smooth. “I hope you have someone ready to take your place.”
Mali set her jaw and didn’t respond. His mouth went dry. He needed to try harder. He wasn’t leaving empty-handed, not after taking this risk.
“We’re investigating Era Corinth’s death,” he said, keeping his voice low. “I shouldn’t tell you that, but you ought to know which investigation you’re blocking.”
Mali’s face crumpled for a moment, and she grabbed Tadeo’s sleeve, clearly fighting to compose herself.
He waited, watching her face, and another drop of sweat trickled down his back. He fought to repress a smile. He was enjoying this too much—the wrongness of it, the threat of being caught—yet he was using this woman’s grief to attain his own ends. He pushed the thought away. Mali had clearly cared about the girl, but she wouldn’t if she knew the truth.
Mali finally nodded and glanced toward the front of the Repository again, at the comm station. She released her grip on his sleeve and took his shift card back to scan it. “Tell me what you need.”
Tadeo kept his face blank, but his chest lightened with his success. “Records on every Meso transfer who still lives aboard the Paragon. And recent records on the colonists who died while on term here.”
Mali twisted her wrist to activate her eyepiece and moved her hand in a flurry of gestures, manipulating the 3D interface. “Those records go back three terms—fifteen years. Everyone who came over four terms ago is either deceased or transferred to other ships. Is there anything else?”
“Yes. I want each of their work records for the past ten months. All of them. Every job they did, every time they used their shift card.”
Mali hesitated and looked like she wanted to ask him something. She licked her lips and met his gaze. “When do you need this by?”
“As soon as possible.”
“I’ll get on it now.” She handed back his shift card, and Tadeo waited. He wiped the thin layer of sweat from his brow and pressed his hand to the cool, metal counter. His lies had worked, but now his card would be logged as ordering these records. The president had said he had all resources at his disposal, hadn’t she? If she found out about this, he’d say he thought this was what she meant. Besides, these were just old personnel files. It wasn’t like he was accessing ancient Earth files.
Mali finished what she was doing and headed for the storage cubic to retrieve an archive cube case. Tadeo watched her go. If Era had been working with terrorists, she hadn’t hidden data in her own cubic. He still didn’t know how she might be connected to this, but if Omar’s search turned up nothing, he’d convince the president to let them bring squads in here to tear the panels off every last cubic Era had access to.
The repository doors slid open, and a group of talkative halfs walked through and sat at the comm station benches. A girl with brown hair gave him a wave and a bright grin. She looked familiar… was she one of the techs who worked second shift? Tadeo averted his eyes. He had no idea what her name was, and he didn’t care. Just another annoyance he didn’t need.
He paced to the back of the Repository, out of view of the comm station benches, and leaned against the glasstex barrier. He separated his collar from his damp neck and watched as Mali entered the archives, cube case in hand. If his mother had been up to anything more than what she’d confessed to—he’d know soon.
His comcuff buzzed, and he jolted. Central was comming.
“Lieutenant Raines here,” he said, his mouth dry, his eyes glued to the archives.
“Sir, medlevel is on the line. Do you want us to patch them through?”
“Yes.” They must have news about the medlevel card he’d found in Dritan’s cubic.
The tech from medlevel came on the line. “Sorry for the wait, sir. The card’s ancient. More than 30 years. It’s not even attached to anyone in our system. I don’t know how it’s even still around.”
Tadeo sighed. “Understood.”
He shut off his comcuff. So the power cell insert he’d found in Dritan’s cubic was recyc junk, and the medlevel card was a dead end. Only Dritan and Era could tell him why those things had been hidden there, and they were both gone.
Mali exited the archives, and his heart thumped harder at the sight of the case in her hands.
She walked over and handed it to him. “Here’s everything.”
Tadeo took the cube box in one slick palm. “I need a private space. A cubic.”
Mali’s brow furrowed, but she nodded and led him toward the side of the Repository. She opened a small cubic with a table and two chairs inside. “Does this work for you, sir?”
“Yes. You’re dismissed.”
Tadeo dropped into a chair as the door closed behind him. He opened the silver case to retrieve the palm-sized cube within it. A thrill raced through him as he pushed it into the slot in his handheld and activated his eyepiece.
Tadeo gestured impatiently to get past the loading screen, and the main screen appeared, square files dotting it. He tapped the one labeled Meso Transfer Lists.
They were listed by date, then sorted by job and last name. He flicked his finger through the air, moving the files as he went through them.
Like Chief had said, every single sublevel worker from the latest transfer list had the same label: Deceased.
He paused when he came to Tatiana Carizo’s file. The girl had been a year younger than him and looked positively ordinary. Medium-brown skin, straight black hair pulled tight into a ponytail. She wore a blank expression in her holo image.
What were you up to?
He moved past her image and kept going. A dozen other Meso transfers had come in during the last transfer term. They worked in the galley as techs, and one worked on medlevel. Caden Bjork. The man looked to be near fifty, with pale-hair and light eyes. He saved Caden for later, so he could check to see if the man worked closely with Medic Faust.
He closed out the file and chose the next list of names. This list was much shorter…not many colonists managed to stay on the Paragon for longer than
one five-year term. Every sublevel worker from ten years back was also marked deceased. The rest worked in the galley, bridge, and helio sector… imports. Tadeo tapped Imports, and one name came up. Jai Florian.
Jai had brown skin, deep wrinkles on his brow, and wore his hair cropped close to his skull. Tadeo tapped his records. The man had no marks against him, had never even been thrown in the brig. His record was impeccable.
But his mother needed someone on the inside capable of smuggling out information. And the Meso transfers had known someone with access to the imports and exports sector on zero deck. This man had that access.
He also could have helped smuggle the explosive powder in.
He was the one. Jai Florian was the man he needed to talk to next.
Tadeo hurriedly searched fifteen years back, expecting no useful results. The list only contained one job sector.
Medlevel.
He tapped it, and one image appeared.
Nora Faust.
He swallowed, and his heart thumped unevenly as he opened her records.
Medic Faust had lied. She hadn’t been on the Paragon her whole life. She’d come from the Meso. And Tadeo had no doubt she knew his mother. But was she also a spy? And why would she say the things she’d said if she was?
Jai Florian and Nora Faust.
Had either of them been working with Tatiana?
If either of them had, he was going to make them tell him everything… no matter what it took.
Zephyr activated the vidrelay and sat back in her seat. This job was mind-numbingly boring—not interesting enough to keep her thoughts from going to the worst place they could. Era.
“Go ahead,” Zephyr said, waving a hand.
The young half in the chair across from her shifted uncomfortably. “Name: Brianne Cho, Message for: Kim Cho, of the Vancouver.”
The girl began to talk, and Zephyr tuned her out. In the past hour, she’d figured out what needed to be done. She had to go to the president and plea for her release.
At age 12, Zephyr became a half, but it was mandated that she spend most of her half years—from age sixteen until twenty-one—aboard the Paragon, so she could learn how the rest of the colonists lived and get to know the president and board. They’d only allow her go home when she turned twenty-one, or if her father died, whichever came first. She’d been secretly hoping her father would die before she went back to the London, but staying here now, without Era, would be worse than living under the threat of his temper.
She stared hard at the door behind the half, tracing its scratches and dents with her eyes, trying to keep her senseless anger at bay. If she leaned to the right and looked around the half, she could see that the door had a peculiar zig-zag scratch running down the side of it, with a spiral imprint just above it, as if some sublevel worker had hit it with the wrong hot tool. Someone like Dritan.
She just wanted to get back to her bunk and sleep or go to Observation to work on her song. Get away from this place.
The half finished talking, and Zephyr grabbed the cube from her handheld and led the girl into the waiting area.
The crowd had grown enormously since she’d started shift, which was strange considering comms wouldn’t even be going out for over a week.
“Tadeo,” a voice said.
Zephyr stopped walking to turn toward the voice she’d heard.
Paige, Helice, and Kali were sitting on one of the benches, staring toward the archivist station. Zephyr followed their gazes, and her heart sped up. Tadeo stood beside the glass barrier, looking into the archives. Her hate for him flared up, and her cheeks flushed as it ran through her. She’d never speak to him again—not after the way he’d talked about Era yesterday.
“Yeah,” Paige said. “He came in for a cube order yesterday. He looked really happy to see me. I’m sure we’ll match up soon.”
Helice leaned toward Paige, her dull-brown hair hanging in her pinched face. “And if he wants to pair with you… would you go to the Meso?”
Paige batted her lashes and smiled. “Who knows? I have so much to consider now. I’m not sure I can leave here.”
“But didn’t Kali say that a girl on the Meso disappeared because of Tadeo?” Helice asked in a hushed tone. “And that they never found her body?”
“That’s only one of the rumors,” Kali said, a smug look on her face. “But even if it isn’t true, I still wouldn’t bother. Everyone knows he doesn’t like women. I heard he likes—”
“Ugh! Stop talking,” Paige said. “It’s just a rumor. When he asks me to match, I’m saying yes. Then I’ll find out for myself. And maybe, if you’re lucky, I’ll tell you guys what it’s like to match up with the heir to the Meso.”
Sudden irritation surged through Zephyr, and she laughed, loudly. She hated Tadeo, but she hated Paige more. All three girls turned around, finally seeing her.
“I can’t imagine why you’d think he’d want to match with you,” Zephyr said hotly. “I mean… Tadeo and I have been matching up for a while now. You’re so not his type.”
Paige’s face twisted into a jealous pout, and Zephyr smirked as she headed for the outgoing message table. Getting to Paige ought make her feel better—but it only made her feel worse.
“This one goes to the Vancouver,” she said, handing the comm cube to Henry. “What’s going on with this crowd?”
“People have asked if we’re shutting down comms.” Henry dropped the cube in with the other outgoing messages. “But Mali would have told me if we were. We’re not. Everyone coming in is saying it.”
Zephyr sighed and glanced longingly toward the doors. “Who’s next?”
Henry gestured to check the list on his handheld. “Paige Narula,” he called out.
Zephyr bit back a laugh. Of course. That would be her luck. “Can I take the next person instead?”
“If you have issues with her, work them out.” Henry pointed in the direction of the crowd. “I don’t have enough techs as it is. You’re taking her.”
Zephyr grabbed a blank cube and turned, bumping right into Paige. “I’m your witness,” Zephyr said.
She pushed past Paige and led the way back to cubic eight. Maybe she’d delete whatever Paige recorded and pretend it was a glitch. A glitch for the biggest glitch on the ship.
They entered the recording cubic, and Zephyr pushed the new cube into her handheld and sat down, folding her hands before her.
Paige sat across from her, an ugly expression on her face. “You’re such a liar. But you’re a Kerrigan, so I guess I should expect that.”
“Wow. Insulting a future captain. You sure you’ve got enough brain cells to be a tech?”
“Tadeo would never match with you.”
“Well, since you’re so close to Tadeo now, why don’t you just ask him yourself?”
Paige blinked her large blue eyes and sniffed. “I’d like to record my message now.”
Zephyr activated the vidrelay and leaned back in her chair.
Paige sat up straight, and her entire face changed, shifting from bitter to bright in an instant. “Name: Paige Narula. Message for: Gerry Monahan, of the Dubai. Hey Gerry, I got your last message,” she said, her voice cheery. “I’m glad things are going well. I’m sure you heard what happened here with our hull.”
Paige was skirting around the edge of what was allowed in a comm, mentioning the hull breach like that. Too bad it wasn’t enough for Zephyr to report her. She’d have to give specifics, and she obviously knew better than to do that.
“I have such great news,” Paige continued, “Mali told me yesterday I’ve been chosen to be the next head archivist!”
Zephyr grunted in pain, as if Mali had just come into the cubic and kicked her. Had she really moved on that quickly? She couldn’t even wait one day after Era died to find her replacement? Paige darted a glance at Zephyr and seemed pleased by the expression on her face.
“There was another girl in the running for head archivist,” Paige said. “Unfortunately, the
job was too much for her. She was an airlocker,” Paige said, with a heavy air of judgment. “It’s the talk of the ship. But I’m sure she had other reasons for wanting to end it. She was all alone. No real friends.”
Zephyr pressed her arms to the table, and her vision tinted red. This glitch was asking to be punched right now.
Paige smiled again into the vidrelay. “I’ll be busy training, so don’t be surprised if you don’t hear from me for a while. I hope you’re trying to get another term over here. Once I’m head archivist, I’ll make sure they approve your transfer. When you come back, you’ll be working with me again. And I know exactly how I’m going to clear out a spot for you.” Paige’s gaze flicked to Zephyr, then back to the vidrelay. “You won’t be stuck on the waiting list. Talk to you soon!”
Paige jumped up from her seat, and Zephyr turned off the relay. Heat coursed through every limb of her body, and lights seemed to dance before her eyes. She gripped the handheld tightly to stop herself from throwing it at Paige.
“You better go drop that in outgoing.” Paige’s eyes glinted nastily in the light of the lume bar. “I’m working the case second shift, so I’ll know if you don’t put it in there. Unless, of course, Mali’s ready to start training me today.”
Zephyr kept her lips pressed tightly together as Paige walked out. Then she tore off her eyepiece and dropped it to the table. It wasn’t fair. How could the fleet lose someone as sweet and loyal as Era, yet the colonist who least deserved to live got rewarded?
She ripped her personal holo gear from where she’d hidden it in her suit. She always carried it with her everywhere, so glitches like Paige couldn’t steal it from her bunk.
It was against the rules to have outside tech in the Repository, but the rule was stupid, and Zephyr had made it a policy a long time ago to only follow rules she agreed with. If only she’d had the foresight to disobey the curfew regulation, too.
She set up her handheld and pushed Paige’s message cube into the slot. Her breath came in quick gasps, and she tried to slow it down as she put on her own eyepiece and opened up Paige’s message on her handheld. No one would be able to prove she accessed it, because her handheld and eyepiece were unregistered, untraceable.
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