Leviathan Wakes e-1

by James S. A. Corey

  “Start there,” he said. “She’s a fanatic about putting things in the right folders. If she left that on the desktop, it means she wasn’t sure where it went.”

  Naomi tapped on the document to open it up. It expanded into a loosely organized collection of text that read like someone’s diary.

  First off, get your shit together. Panic doesn’t help. It never helps. Deep breaths, figure this out, make the right moves. fear is the mind-killer. Ha. Geek.

  Shuttle Pros: No reactor, just batteries. V. low radiation.Supplies for eightLots of reaction mass

  Shuttle Cons: No Epstein, no torchComm not just disabled, but physically removed (feeling a little paranoid about leaks, guys?)

  Closest transit is Eros. Is that where we were going? Maybe go someplace else? On just teakettle, this is gonna be a slowboat. Another transit adds seven more weeks. Eros, then.

  I’ve got the Phoebe bug, no way around it. Not sure how, but that brown shit was everywhere. It’s anaerobic, must have touched some. Doesn’t matter how, just work the problem.

  I just slept for THREE WEEKS. Didn’t even get up to pee. What does that?

  I’m so fucked.

  Things you need to remember:

  * BA834024112* Radiation kills. No reactor on this shuttle, but keep the lights off. Keep the e-suit on. Video asshat said this thing eats radiation. Don’t feed it.* Send up a flag. Get some help. You work for the smartest people in the system. They’ll figure something out.* Stay away from people. Don’t spread the bug. Not coughing up the brown goo yet. No idea when that starts.* Keep away from bad guys-as if you know who they are. Fine. So keep away from everyone. Incognito is my name. Hmm. Polanski?

  Damn. I can feel it. I’m hot all the time, and I’m starving. Don’t eat. Don’t feed it. Feed a cold, starve a flu? Other way around? Eros is a day out, and then help is on the way. Keep fighting.

  Safe on Eros. Sent up the flag. Hope the home office is watching. Head hurts. Something’s happening on my back. Lump over my kidneys. Darren turned into goo. Am I going to be a suit full of jelly?

  Sick now. Things coming out of my back and leaking that brown stuff everywhere. Have to take the suit off. If you read this, don’t let anyone touch the Brown stuff. Burn me. I’m burning up.

  Naomi put the terminal down, but no one spoke for a moment. Finally, Holden said, “Phoebe bug. Anyone have an idea?”

  “There was a science station on Phoebe,” Miller said. “Inner planets place, no Belters allowed. It got hit. Lots of dead people, but… ”

  “She talks about being on a shuttle,” Naomi said. “The Scopuli didn’t have a shuttle.”

  “There had to be another ship,” Alex said. “Maybe she got the shuttle off it.”

  “Right,” Holden said. “They got on another ship, they got infected with this Phoebe bug, and the rest of the crew… I don’t know. Dies?”

  “She gets out, not realizing she’s infected till she’s on the shuttle,” Naomi continued. “She comes here, she sends up the flag to Fred, and she dies in that hotel room of the infection.”

  “Not, however, turned to goo,” Holden said. “Just really badly… I don’t know. Those tubes and bone spurs. What kind of disease does that?”

  The question hung in the air. Again no one spoke. Holden knew they were all thinking the same thing. They hadn’t touched anything in the flophouse room. Did that mean they were safe from it? Or did they have the Phoebe bug, whatever the hell it was? But she’d said anaerobic. Holden was pretty sure that meant you couldn’t get it by breathing it in the air. Pretty sure…

  “Where do we go from here, Jim?” Naomi asked.

  “How about Venus?” Holden said, his voice higher and tighter than he’d expected. “Nothing interesting happening on Venus.”

  “Seriously,” Naomi said.

  “Okay. Seriously, I think Miller there lets his cop friend know the story, and then we get the hell off of this rock. It’s got to be a bioweapon, right? Someone steals it off a Martian science lab, seeds this shit in a dome, a month later every human being in the city is dead.”

  Amos interrupted with a grunt.

  “There’s some holes in that, Cap’n,” Amos said. “Like what the fuck does that have to do with taking down the Cant and the Donnager?”

  Holden looked Naomi in the eye and said, “We have a place to look now, don’t we?”

  “Yeah, we do,” she said. “BA834024112. That’s a rock designation.”

  “What do you think is out there?” Alex asked.

  “If I was a betting man, I’d say it’s whatever ship she stole that shuttle from,” Holden replied.

  “Makes sense,” Naomi said. “Every rock in the Belt is mapped. You want to hide something, put it in a stable orbit next to one and you can always find it later.”

  Miller turned toward Holden, his face even more drawn.

  “If you’re going there, I want in,” he said.

  “Why?” Holden asked. “No offense, but you found your girl. Your job’s over, right?”

  Miller looked at him, his lips a thin line.

  “Different case,” Miller said. “Now it’s about who killed her.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six: Miller

  Your police friend put a lockdown order on my ship,” Holden said. He sounded outraged.

  Around them, the hotel restaurant was busy. Last shift’s prostitutes mixed with the next shift’s tourists and businessmen at the cheap pink-lit buffet. The pilot and the big guy-Alex and Amos-were vying for the last bagel. Naomi sat at Holden’s side, her arms crossed, a cup of bad coffee cooling before her.

  “We did kill some people,” Miller said gently.

  “I thought you got us out of that with your secret police handshake,” Holden said. “So why’s my ship in lockdown?”

  “You remember when Sematimba said we shouldn’t leave the station without telling him?” Miller said.

  “I remember you making some kind of deal,” Holden said. “I don’t remember agreeing to it.”

  “Look, he’s going to keep us here until he’s sure he won’t get fired for letting us go. Once he knows his ass is covered, the lock goes down. So let’s talk about the part where I rent a berth on your ship.”

  Jim Holden and his XO exchanged a glance, one of those tiny human burst communications that said more than words could have. Miller didn’t know either of them well enough to decode all of it, but he guessed they were skeptical.

  They had reason to be. Miller had checked his credit balance before he’d called them. He had enough left for another night in the hotel or a good dinner, but not both. He was spending it on a cheap breakfast that Holden and his crew didn’t need and probably wouldn’t enjoy, buying good will.

  “I need to make very, very sure I understand what you’re saying,” Holden said as the big one-Amos-returned and sat at his other side holding the bagel. “Are you saying that unless I let you on my ship, your friend is going to keep us here? Because that’s blackmail.”

  “Extortion,” Amos said.

  “What?” Holden said.

  “It’s not blackmail,” Naomi said. “That would be if he threatened to expose information we didn’t want known. If it’s just a threat, that’s extortion.”

  “And it’s not what I’m talking about,” Miller said. “Freedom of the station while the investigation rolls? That’s no trouble. Leaving jurisdiction’s another thing. I can’t hold you here any more than I can cut you loose. I’m just looking for a ride when you go.”

  “Why?” Holden said.

  “Because you’re going to Julie’s asteroid,” Miller said.

  “I’m willing to bet there’s no port there,” Holden said. “Did you plan on going anyplace after that?”

  “I’m kind of low on solid plans. Haven’t had one yet that actually happened.”

  “I hear that,” Amos said. “We’ve been fucked eighteen different ways since we got into this.”

  Holden folded his hands on the table, one finge
r tapping a complicated rhythm on the wood-textured concrete top. It wasn’t a good sign.

  “You seem like a… well, like an angry, bitter old man, actually. But I’ve been working water haulers for the past five years. That just means you’d fit in.”

  “But,” Miller said, and let the word hang there.

  “But I’ve been shot at a lot recently, and the machine guns yesterday were the least lethal thing I’ve had to deal with,” Holden said. “I’m not letting anyone on my ship that I wouldn’t trust with my life, and I don’t actually know you.”

  “I can get the money,” Miller said, his belly sinking. “If it’s money, I can cover it.”

  “It’s not about negotiating a price,” Holden said.

  “Get the money?” Naomi said, her eyes narrowing. “ ‘Get the money,’ as in you don’t have it now?”

  “I’m a little short,” Miller said. “It’s temporary.”

  “You have an income?” Naomi said.

  “More like a strategy,” Miller said. “There’s some independent rackets down on the docks. There always are at any port. Side games. Fights. Things like that. Most of them, the fix is in. It’s how you bribe cops without actually bribing cops.”

  “That’s your plan?” Holden said, incredulity in his voice. “Go collect some police bribes?”

  Across the restaurant, a prostitute in a red nightgown yawned prodigiously; the john across the table from her frowned.

  “No,” Miller said reluctantly. “I play the side bets. A cop goes in, I make a side bet that he’s going to win. I know who the cops are mostly. The house, they know because they’re bribing them. The side bets are with fish looking to feel edgy because they’re playing unlicensed.”

  Even as he said it, Miller knew how weak it sounded. Alex, the pilot, came and sat beside Miller. His coffee smelled bright and acidic.

  “What’s the deal?” Alex asked.

  “There isn’t one,” Holden said. “There wasn’t one before and there still isn’t.”

  “It works better than you’d think,” Miller said gamely, and four hand terminals chimed at once. Holden and Naomi exchanged another, less complicit glance and pulled up their terminals. Amos and Alex already had theirs up. Miller caught the red-and-green border that meant either a priority message or an early Christmas card. There was a moment’s silence as they all read something; then Amos whistled low.

  “Stage three?” Naomi said.

  “Can’t say as I like the sound of that,” Alex said.

  “You mind if I ask?” Miller said.

  Holden slid his terminal across the table. The message was plaintext, encoded from Tycho.

  CAUGHT MOLE IN TYCHO COMM STATION. YOUR PRESENCE AND DESTINATION LEAKED TO UNKNOWN PERSONS ON EROS. BE CAREFUL.

  “Little late on that,” Miller said.

  “Keep reading,” Holden said.

  MOLE’S ENCRYPTION CODE ALLOWED INTERCEPT OF SUBSIGNAL BROADCAST FROM EROS FIVE HOURS AGO.INTERCEPTED MESSAGE FOLLOWS: HOLDEN ESCAPED BUT PAYLOAD SAMPLE RECOVERED. REPEAT: SAMPLE RECOVERED. PROCEEDING TO STAGE THREE.

  “Any idea what that means?” Holden asked.

  “I don’t,” Miller said, pushing the terminal back. “Except… if the payload sample is Julie’s body.”

  “Which I think we can assume it is,” Holden said.

  Miller tapped his fingertips on the tabletop, unconsciously copying Holden’s rhythm, his mind working through the combinations.

  “This thing,” Miller said. “The bioweapon or whatever. They were shipping it here. So now it’s here. Okay. There’s no reason to take out Eros. It’s not particularly important to the war when you hold it up to Ceres or Ganymede or the shipyard at Callisto. And if you wanted it dead, there’re easier ways. Blow a big fusion bomb on the surface, and crack it like an egg.”

  “It’s not a military base, but it is a shipping hub,” Naomi said. “And, unlike Ceres, it’s not under OPA control.”

  “They’re shipping her out, then,” Holden said. “They’re taking their sample out to infect whatever their original target was, and once they’re off the station, there’s no way we’re going to stop it.”

  Miller shook his head. Something about the chain of logic felt wrong. He was missing something. His imaginary Julie appeared across the room, but her eyes were dark, black filaments pouring down her cheeks like tears.

  What am I looking at here, Julie? he thought. I’m seeing something here, but I don’t know what it is.

  The vibration was a slight, small thing, less than a transport tube’s braking stutter. A few plates rattled; the coffee in Naomi’s cup danced in a series of concentric circles. Everyone in the hotel went silent with the sudden shared dread of thousands of people made aware of their fragility in the same moment.

  “Oh-kay,” Amos said. “The fuck was that?” and the emergency Klaxons started blaring.

  “Or possibly stage three is something else,” Miller said over the noise.

  The public-address system was muddy by its nature. The same voice spoke from consoles and speakers that might have been as close as a meter from each other or as far out as earshot would take them. It made every word reverberate, a false echo. Because of that, the voice of the emergency broadcast system enunciated very carefully, each word bitten off separately.

  “Attention, please. Eros Station is in emergency lockdown. Proceed immediately to the casino level for radiological safety confinement. Cooperate with all emergency personnel. Attention, please. Eros station is in emergency lockdown… ”

  And on in a loop that would continue, if no one coded in the override, until every man, woman, child, animal, and insect on the station had been reduced to dust and humidity. It was the nightmare scenario, and Miller did what a lifetime on pressurized rocks had trained him to do. He was up from the table, in the corridor, and heading down toward the wider passages, already clogged with bodies. Holden and his crew were on his heels.

  “That was an explosion,” Alex said. “Ship drive at the least. Maybe a nuke.”

  “They are going to kill the station,” Holden said. There was a kind of awe in his voice. “I never thought I’d miss the part where they just blew up the ships I was on. But now it’s stations.”

  “They didn’t crack it,” Miller said.

  “You’re sure of that?” Naomi asked.

  “I can hear you talking,” Miller said. “That tells me there’s air.”

  “There are airlocks,” Holden said. “If the station got holed and the locks closed down… ”

  A woman pushed hard against Miller’s shoulder, forcing her way forward. If they weren’t damn careful, there was going to be a stampede. This was too much fear and not enough space. It hadn’t happened yet, but the impatient movement of the crowd, vibrating like molecules in water just shy of boiling, made Miller very uncomfortable.

  “This isn’t a ship,” Miller said. “It’s a station. This is rock we’re on. Anything big enough to get to the parts of the station with atmosphere would crack the place like an egg. A great big pressurized egg.”

  The crowd was stopped, the tunnel full. They were going to need crowd control, and they were going to need it fast. For the first time since he’d left Ceres, Miller wished he had a badge. Someone pushed into Amos’ side, then backed away through the press when the big guy growled.

  “Besides,” Miller said, “it’s a rad hazard. You don’t need air loss to kill everyone in the station. Just burn a few quadrillion spare neutrons through the place at C, and there won’t be any trouble with the oxygen supply.”

  “Cheerful fucker,” Amos said.

  “They build stations inside of rocks for a reason,” Naomi said. “Not so easy to force radiation through this many meters of rock.”

  “I spent a month in a rad shelter once,” Alex said as they pushed through the thickening crowd. “Ship I was on had magnetic containment drop. Automatic cutoffs failed, and the reactor kept runnin’ for almost a second. Melted the engine room. Killed fiv
e of the crew on the next deck up before they knew we had a problem, and it took them three days to carve the bodies free of the melted decking for burial. The rest of us wound up eighteen to a shelter for thirty-six days while a tug flew to get us.”

  “Sounds great,” Holden said.

  “End of it, six of ’em got married, and the rest of us never spoke to each other again,” Alex said.

  Ahead of them, someone shouted. It wasn’t in alarm or even anger, really. Frustration. Fear. Exactly the things Miller didn’t want to hear.

  “That may not be our big problem,” Miller said, but before he could explain, a new voice cut in, drowning out the emergency-response loop.

  “Okay, everybody! We’re Eros security, que no? We got an emergency, so you do what we tell you and nobody gets hurt.”

  About time, Miller thought.

  “So here’s the rule,” the new voice said. “Next asshole who pushes anyone, I’m going to shoot them. Move in an orderly fashion. First priority: orderly. Second priority is move! Go, go, go!”

  At first nothing happened. The knot of human bodies was tied too tightly for even the most heavy-handed crowd control to free quickly, but a minute later, Miller saw some heads far ahead of him in the tunnel start to shift, then move away. The air in the tunnel was thickening and the hot plastic smell of overloaded recyclers reached him just as the clot came free. Miller’s breath started coming easier.

  “Do they have hard shelters?” a woman behind them asked her companion, and then was swept away by the currents. Naomi plucked Miller’s sleeve.

  “Do they?” she asked.

  “They should, yes,” Miller said. “Enough for maybe a quarter million, and essential personnel and medical crews would get first crack at them.”

  “And everyone else?” Amos said.

  “If they survive the event,” Holden said, “station personnel will save as many people as they can.”

  “Ah,” Amos said. Then: “Well, fuck that. We’re going for the Roci, right?”