Mikal didn’t look pleased, but he nodded. They gathered up two of the briefcases each and left the apartment.
•
[Have you got that out of your system?] Charlotte subvocalized.
Angel strode up the ramp into their stolen cargo freighter. “You know, for a girl, you’re awfully nosey.”
[I hate to break it to you, but time is of the essence.]
“I know, it’s just… Forget it. We’re here now.”
As she made her way to the box, a change in the hold caught her eye. In one corner, where before there had been nothing, were five other boxes. Each of them was four meters to a side. They sat close together, as if in a herd, cables joining them together as well as linking them to the wall. They looked suspiciously like giant computers to her.
“What are—”
[Five state-of-the-art Mercurial Logic quantum processors, three the latest model, and two experimental. Mercurial have a presence here, and I have a few access codes that still work. It was easy enough to have them delivered.]
“Uh-huh, and we need these because…”
[Because this ship doesn’t have enough processing power for me. I need… more.]
“Angel, who are you talking to?”
She placed her two briefcases next to Charlotte’s box, then waved her gold bracelet at Mikal. “The girl in the box. Subvocal comms. It’s the latest craze.”
Mikal shook his head. “I’m sure it is. But you were never one to follow trends.” He placed his two cases on the ground and clicked them open, revealing soft foam interiors molded around various unidentifiable gadgets. He chose one, hesitated, then picked up another. The first he placed against the surface of the box, and the second next to the lock.
Angel backed away a few steps, leaving him to work alone and in silence. He always worked better that way. On second thought, she turned and made her way to the ship’s mess, requesting more pancakes. One wasn’t enough, and Mikal could be at it for hours. She ate a few, ordered them both coffees, and descended to the hold, carrying two mugs.
Mikal was frowning. In one hand he held a device pointed at the box, with a visor over his eyes transmitting a heads-up display.
“Something wrong?” she asked.
He tilted his head to the side in a familiar gesture. Worry. “Could be something, could be nothing. This thing’s advanced, Angel. There’s a lot inside I have no idea about. Hells, it could even be a bomb and I wouldn’t know.”
“Do your best, then. I trust you.”
“It would be unwise to rely on my expertise. I might kill us both.”
“Sounds like an epitaph.”
“Not today it isn’t.”
“I’ve come this far. I’m not giving up now. Whatever’s inside is the key. I know it.” She clenched her hands into fists as hard as she could to ease her tension. “I’ll do it. When you’re ready. You can wait outside.”
Mikal smiled. “When have I ever done that?”
“Never.”
“Then I’m staying. It’s almost done.”
Her mouth opened. She closed it. “So soon?”
“Technology changes. The lock is a few years old, though one of the best at the time. Someone at Mercurial ought to have upgraded it. Sloppy. They should be fired.”
“I’ve had exactly the same thought,” she murmured.
“There’s two boxes, though.”
Angel paused. “Two?”
“Yes. One on top of the other. The lock opens the bottom box, but I can’t see a lock for the second.”
“Charlotte, what do you know about this?”
[The second box is just a processor; nothing to worry about.] Her voice tingled with excitement, and the words came more rapidly than usual. [Are you… is he… about to open the lock? I have to prepare myself.]
“Er, yes. Mikal, are we good to go?”
“Yes. I haven’t found any anti-tamper devices. And it’s unlikely they’d be too hidden. The researchers would have to access the interior, after all. Just say the word.”
Angel took half a step back. “The word.”
Mikal grinned at her. She sensed him send a command to his implants, obviously linked to his gadgets. Angel screwed her eyes up and bent over to look at the container.
A horizontal line split the front panel of the box in half, and a hissing noise followed steam, or some sort of colorless, odorless vapor, out of the crack. There was a gurgling sound. Then a clunk inside the box.
The bottom half of the panel moved out a few centimeters, then levered up to reveal a clear barrier, with the soles of two small feet pushing up against it. Everything beyond the soles of the feet was obscured by a pinkish, opaque substance.
“Well,” remarked Angel, “this wasn’t what I was expecting.”
With a whoosh, the barrier vanished, and a torrent of pink mucus flooded out, spilling across the floor and over their boots. Angel dropped the mugs, splashing coffee everywhere as she danced awkwardly in a vain attempt to avoid the thick liquid. It stank of sweat and chemicals, and of blood.
Into the center of the goop slid a naked, pale, blonde-haired girl.
Charlotte.
Chapter 8
Charlotte’s eyes jerked open, and vivid green irises quivered. Her mouth opened, and she vomited up mucus. She gulped in air to replace the sludge in her lungs, as if she were being born. Charlotte’s hands scrabbled in the goo, fingers scratching at the floor. On the side of her face, the telltale traces of implants glimmered blue for a moment before disappearing.
Mikal was frozen, one of the rare moments he didn’t know what to do.
“Ship,” Angel commanded, “medical automaton to the cargo hold, please. Bring towels and a robe. And hurry.”
The girl sat up in the pool of goo and took another shuddering breath. She twitched, then looked around the hold, eyes pausing on the five processors for an instant, then moved onto Angel and Mikal. She coughed then cleared her throat.
“Angel?” she said, the word barely a whisper.
Angel rushed to Charlotte’s side, slipping in the goo. The girl’s hands were slimy and warm.
“Charlotte-Rose, I presume,” Angel said.
Charlotte managed a nod.
“Mikal,” Angel exclaimed, “avert your eyes, please.”
“What? Oh, sorry.” Mikal turned his back.
Charlotte stumbled as Angel led her out of the puddle, like a newborn foal on unsteady legs. She stood there, dripping, swaying slightly, and staring at everything around her: Mikal, Angel, the cargo hold, the box behind her, the medical automaton.
“Towels, please,” Angel asked the medical-bot.
She used her hands to scrape the worst of the pink gunk from Charlotte’s skin, then used the towels to clean most of the rest off. She’d still need a shower.
With the gunk removed, Charlotte started to shiver, and Angel helped her into the robe that had come with the towels. It was too large, and white and fuzzy.
“The mess, or galley, or whatever you call it,” Charlotte said haltingly, still shivering. “Can we go there, please?”
“Yes. Mikal, grab her other arm, would you?”
Together, they half-carried a staggering Charlotte along the ship’s corridors. It didn’t take long for the girl’s strength to come in, and by the time they arrived she was almost walking without assistance.
Angel poured herself and Mikal cups of coffee, and added a generous portion of scotch to each. Charlotte sat opposite them, looking around as if seeing things was new to her.
The medical automaton buzzed and whirred around Charlotte, as it had in the cargo hold. She remained still while it sampled her blood and took various readings.
Another of the ship’s automatons approached, bearing five large glasses of a yellow liquid. Angel hadn’t ordered them, and neither had Mikal. Charlotte reached for one and sipped, slowly and quietly, until it was drained. She took a second and did the same, then burped and placed a hand over her mouth.
“Excuse me,” Charlotte said.
“You’re excused,” replied Angel. She ran a hand through her hair, realizing Charlotte’s was drying, caking up with globs of whatever the hell it was she’d been immersed in. She looked at Mikal. She really didn’t want him dragged into this mess. “You’ll want to take your equipment back, hide it again, so it’s not found in your possession if…”
“You think I’ll be arrested?”
“There’s a chance.”
“Mikal can’t leave. Not yet.”
They both looked at Charlotte.
“And why not?” Angel asked.
“Because it’s not safe. Security is already watching this ship.”
“How do you know that?”
“I’ve access to the ship’s systems, including the outside cameras. There are at least two security agents watching. Mikal can’t just walk out. He’ll be restrained, and they’ll find his equipment. It’s not a good idea. He should come with us.”
“Huh. Then we’ll have to come up with another plan. I don’t want him on this ship longer than necessary. I don’t want to ruin all he’s worked for.” And all Charlotte sees in Mikal now is a spare in case something happens to me.
“You needn’t fear me,” Charlotte said, green eyes piercing hers.
And Angel realized that’s exactly what she felt. She hadn’t really expected Charlotte to appear in the flesh. That wasn’t what her instincts had told her would happen. Charlotte had been too competent, too knowledgeable, to be the girl she claimed to be.
“Angel,” Mikal said, “the girl’s free now. Whatever she was to Mercurial Logic, whatever her value, she needs to be looked after and hidden away like my gadgets. They’ll come for her. I… I can come with you. We—”
“No! Mikal, just… no. I don’t want you involved.”
“I’m already involved.”
“No more than you are, then. I’ll get you off this ship and past the security without being seen, but after that I don’t want your help. You’ve a life here. Don’t give it up for… Charlotte.” Me, she’d been about to say. Again. “I’ve made up my mind. You stay here while we… We’ll find somewhere to go.”
“I know a place,” Charlotte said softly. “Off the grid: an old research facility abandoned by the Genevolves.”
Angel cursed under her breath. “And what’ll we do there? Hide out until we die of old age? No, we need a plan.”
Charlotte ran a hand through her long hair, untangling some of the mess. “I’ve a plan—”
“Of course you do.” Angel was beginning to think Charlotte had an answer for everything. She was obviously far from the small girl she’d portrayed herself to be in the beginning. If anything, she seemed more confident, more intelligent than even a few days ago.
“But if you don’t want Mikal involved, it’s best he doesn’t know.”
Angel pursed her lips. “True.”
“Angel—”
“No, Mikal. The fallout from this isn’t something you should have to deal with. I’m sorry we came here.” Angel glared at Charlotte. “But it was out of my hands. It wasn’t my idea.”
Mikal managed to look hurt and relieved at the same time. “I think I can decide what’s best for me.”
“There’s plenty of ways to get you off the ship without being noticed,” Angel said, ignoring him. It’s for the best, really. Her thought sounded hollow and did nothing to lessen the pit in her stomach. “As long as they know we’re on board, they won’t be looking for anyone else. You can slip out with the resupply automatons.”
Mikal merely nodded, looking disappointed. Years ago he would have continued arguing with her, but things had changed between them. So many things. There was no going back.
Angel’s eyes stung, and she stood. “Right. Let’s get things moving, then.”
“I’ll need a shower and some clothes,” Charlotte said. She rose to her feet and wobbled unsteadily. “I’m not… recovered enough yet to look after myself.” She looked embarrassed. “And I need to pee. Angel, could you…”
“Of course. Mikal, could you order something more substantial for Charlotte to eat? I’m guessing cooked and mashed vegetables until you’re up for something more solid.” She offered her arm to Charlotte, who gave her a grateful smile and leaned on her. Together, they hobbled towards Angel’s quarters.
•
“So, this is goodbye,” Mikal said.
Angel and Mikal stood by the service port next to a number of automatons pushing cargo. The closest container was open, waiting for Mikal to secrete himself inside. It had been programmed to drop him off at the service area of the port, where he’d easily be able to make his way home without being seen.
I guess it is, Angel was about to say but stopped herself. Somehow, the moment didn’t seem right for flippancy. “It was really good”—heartbreaking—“to see you again. Once this is over, I’ll stop by”—I won’t—“and we can catch up on old times.”
Mikal smiled, and her heart lurched. His expression faded to sadness, which he tried to mask with another smile. He knew things would just go back to the way they were before. How they had to be.
Before she could stop him, he hugged her, hard. For long moments, they stood there, her cheek pressed against his, feeling the heat of his skin. She wished… that things had been different between them. But there was no use dwelling on the past.
She broke the embrace and gently pushed him away. “Get in. I’ll see you soon.”
“Of course you will.”
“I need you to do something for me. Several things, actually.”
Mikal smiled. “Whatever you need.”
Angel sent his implants Charlotte’s files on Mercurial, along with a copy of Viktor’s autopsy report with the DNA evidence. “Get these to Inquisitor Margith. She’s a senior agent. I’m sure she wasn’t involved with what happened on Persephone, and I have to go around Valgeir. It’s my only hope to clear my name and convict Mercurial. Someone is influencing factions inside the Inquisitors; I just don’t know who yet. I need to stay with Charlotte because I need to find out who’s behind Mercurial’s research, and… I can’t leave her. I don’t trust her on her own. You’re more useful to me on the outside. I think… I’ll need allies.”
Mikal nodded and opened one of his briefcases. “I can do that.”
He handed Angel some digital equipment, two devices, both small enough to fit into her palm. Instructions squirted into her implants as she hid them away in her pockets.
“This will let you monitor what Charlotte’s doing inside the ship, discreetly. And the round one is an emergency beacon. You can link it to your ship’s information—position and status—but it’ll bypass the ship’s controls if you’re locked out. If you need help, use it.”
“Thank you,” Angel said. Ideas were already forming in her head—with Mikal’s gadgets she could devise a way to insert the override program from the photo frame into Charlotte’s systems.
If she needed to totally disable Charlotte’s programs.
Mikal climbed into the container, stared at her for a moment, and closed the hatch.
Angel paused, one hand resting on its surface. “Ship, the service automatons can resume their duties.”
“Acknowledged,” replied the ship.
The automatons hummed to life around her and exited the ship through the port designed to accommodate them. It cycled shut after the last one left.
Angel leaned on the wall, forehead resting on her arm. She sighed, then turned and hastily made her way to one of the empty crew cabins. She concealed the beacon inside an empty drawer, and quickly connected Mikal’s monitoring device into the room’s control panel, where it squirted programs into the ship’s systems. Then Angel hid the device in an inner pocket and left the cabin.
On the bridge, Charlotte rested in the copilot’s chair, suited up and looking less like a girl and more like a competent young woman. As Angel entered, Charlotte turned and smiled at her before returni
ng to the displays. She was going through star-system maps and… plotting a course? On one screen, a yellow line emanated from a star, making a few stops before ending at another star somewhere outside controlled space. Curious.
Angel sat and took a few moments to compose herself.
“Ship,” she said eventually, “bring up news stories from the last two days for Persephone.”
“I don’t think you should,” Charlotte said. “I think they’ll be… upsetting to you.”
“Why would they be? I need to know the fallout from Persephone. Surely they’re looking into the explosion at Mercurial Logic.” Nothing had appeared yet, and her implants, which were linked to the ship’s systems, were strangely silent. “Ship?”
Still no response.
Charlotte left her displays and regarded Angel with a mixed expression of… pity?
“What’s going on?” Angel asked. “Ship? Are you there?”
“The ship’s not going to answer. I’m the ship now.”
Angel blinked as she processed Charlotte’s statement. She sent a command to the monitor Mikal had given to her, which was now observing the ship’s systems.
Data began streaming into her implants from the hidden programs Mikal’s monitoring device had installed. The device itself she kept in an inner pocket. “You, or your program, has taken it over. Just as you did with Mercurial Logic’s systems, and when you contacted me in my room.”
“Yes. It’s easier that way.”
“For you, or for me?” Charlotte’s interface was clear to her now, as was the way she’d bypassed the ship’s fail-safes and taken control. There might be a way around it, but if she tried now, it would tip her hand. She decided to hold back until she was certain her block would work—just in case she needed it.
“For me,” Charlotte said. “I’m sorry, but my… our survival is at stake.”
“A situation I’m not unfamiliar with. What’s in the news?” Angel repeated firmly.
Three screens lit up, and her implants gained access to the planet’s data systems. On one of the screens, her own face stared back at her, an unflattering photo in black and white. Underneath it in black text were the words “Wanted for Mass Murder on Persephone”.
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