by RS McCoy
Several hours of staring at the dark ceiling led her to the moment of no return. Sal woke for his day right on schedule. He sat on the edge of the bed and scanned his tablet for any ecomms sent during the night.
“Good morning,” she offered him, some excuse to talk to him. Her eyes burned from lack of sleep and shame.
Except he didn’t take the bait.
“Busy day today?”
“Hmm? Oh, yes. Data from the Ellipsis-35 colony just came in.” Her heart hammered in her chest.
“Sal?”
“Don’t you need to get ready for work?” he asked with his back to her.
“There’s something I need to tell you.”
“Hmm?” Still he didn’t turn. He wouldn’t even look at her. She wanted to smack him, to make him pay attention to her.
She was trying to turn herself in, to end her own life with dignity. She was trying to prove she was no coward.
And he wouldn’t even let her.
It was then she realized Sal would never look at her the way Calvin did. She had a choice to make.
Aida didn’t bother with the indigo body suit. Instead she opted for a pair of sleek black pants and a bright teal top. She wasn’t going to hide anymore.
In the Planetary Systems wing, she stopped in Calvin’s office first, but it was dark and lifeless. She returned to her own office to wait for him.
When she flipped on the lights, he was sitting in her chair.
“Calvin?” she asked though it wouldn’t have been anyone else.
He only stared at her, his gaze even yet distant. “I have something to say. You’re going to let me finish and you’re not going to interrupt me.”
Aida sank into the metal chair that faced her desk. She felt awkward to be on the wrong side for once, for the first time in her life. She swallowed hard, afraid for what he might say. “All right. What do you want to tell me?”
MABLE
SHUTTLE DOCK TOR-991, CHICAGO, NORTH AMERICA
AUGUST 23, 2232
Mable was used to being wrong about people. She’d always trusted the wrong ones, let them hurt her when she least expected it. Betrayed and backstabbed, time and time again.
But never, ever had she been wrong like this.
Arrenstein was a monster, a disgusting specimen of humanity that didn’t deserve the air he breathed. He was a killer, a murderer.
He was the only person who came for her, who sat by her side when she needed him.
He was the only person who was ever truly worth of her trust.
He was the only person she refused to give it to.
For the third time, Mable traveled to CPI. This time, Arrenstein himself accompanied her. He urged her to take breaks and sit when she needed it, but she always refused. When they got to their shuttle seats, she realized how tired she was from the short walk through the shuttle terminal.
She claimed the seat against the wall and pulled her knees up against her chest. Her hands shook and her head spun with fatigue. Arrenstein sat beside her. His shoulder was the perfect height for her to rest her head, thankfully the undamaged side.
“So what happens now? Am I in major trouble?” Mable wanted to know the extent of her punishment. Rightfully, they’d stick her on an intel team and never let her out again. She’d botched things on a biblical level.
Arrenstein sighed. “Not exactly.”
Mable didn’t move from his shoulder. “Then what?”
“I’d rather explain it when we’re back at CPI.”
“Just tell me.” How bad could it be?
“You’re infected. I’ll extract it when we get there and you’ll be free to go home. To the Root or wherever you want.” Arrenstein rubbed a hand over his chin and stared at his lap.
Mable pushed off so she could see his face. His features were set. “I’m infected? You can’t know that. You said yourself, there’s no test.”
“No, there’s not. But I’ve been doing this a long time. I’ve seen a lot of infected people, more than anyone else. You have a bug.”
There was a bug in her? A living creature in her brain, controlling her thoughts and actions. Was it controlling her now?
Mable rubbed her hands down the length of her arms. She felt robbed, violated.
“Which one?” Even as she asked, she knew. She had checked the Scholar woman for the Echo, the Gleam and the Yield. There was but one possibility. “The Slight.”
Arrenstein nodded.
Thoughts and facts about the bug came rushing back, too fast, all at once. She pressed her palm to her forehead as she combed through the data. Affects memories. No, eats memories. Always fatal. Only one person survived extraction.
Mable was as good as dead.
Arrenstein turned as much as the seat would allow. “I’ll get it out. It’s only been a few hours—”
She couldn’t tell who he was trying to convince.
There was no denying it. Arrenstein was afraid. From the wrinkles on his forehead to the tension in his jaw, it was written plain across his face.
It scared the shit out of her.
Arrenstein wrapped his arm across her shoulders. It was heavy and hot but she leaned against his chest nonetheless. Somehow, in this fucked up life, Arrenstein had become her ally.
He let her sit there, curled up against him for the rest of the flight. He helped her down the tube to the pod that took them back to CPI. As much as she hated it, she felt like she was coming home, someplace familiar, someplace hers. She had friends here. People cared about her here. She had a purpose and a sense of security.
It was more than she’d had in a long time.
Arrenstein led her straight to the cleaning station, the site of her former agony.
“What happens if you leave it in?”
He pushed open the doors and walked her toward the first room.
“It’ll slowly eat away at your cortex. You’ll forget things, struggle to learn new things. You’ll forget who you are and at some point, you’ll just drop dead. We’re not sure what the stimulus is. The bug just decides it doesn’t need you anymore, for whatever reason.”
Mable nodded. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For telling me the truth.” Few enough adults gave her that courtesy.
Arrenstein stopped beside the metal table and helped her up. He lifted her to sit on the side. “Let’s get this off first.” Careful hands appeared at the side of her head. She felt a pinch that paled compared to the agony on the other side. A moment later, he opened his palm to reveal the cam device.
Arrenstein threw the cam to the floor before he turned her to lay flat. He stripped off his suit jacket and tossed it on the counter. A few controls at the panel on the wall illuminated her figure on the projector.
Sure enough, there at the back of her neck, a red glow.
Seeing it for herself was somehow worse than knowing already. It was more real. Her death was more certain.
All her hope left her then.
Arrenstein fished around the cabinet and selected the tools he needed. His hands shook. His movements were jerky. He knew what was about to happen.
They both did.
When he returned to stand beside the table, Mable grabbed his arm.
“He told me to leave,” she confessed, shocked she would ever utter the words. Shocked she would ever say them to Arrenstein. But if not now, then when?
Arrenstein stared. “What?”
A tear slipped from her eye and ran down her temple. “Alex called me that day. For six minutes. He didn’t say anything about bugs. He told me to get out, to run. He told me not to ever go back.”
His eyes were on the tool in his hand, turning it over uselessly. When at last he looked at her, he asked, “Because you were pregnant?”
Mable could only stare. How could he know? How could he possibly know? He must have been listening to the call that day.
“He told me. Not in so many words, of course. He said he was going to be an u
ncle.” Arrenstein let out a small laugh, his eyes distant with memory. “He was pretty excited, actually. Wouldn’t shut up about it for a few weeks.”
Mable covered her face with her hands and sobbed. Big angry breaths fought for space in her chest and her throat ached.
Alex said he was happy, that he was proud of her, that day he called her. But it was so long ago, the last time she ever spoke to him. It didn’t seem real. How could anyone be proud of her after that?
“Do you need an assistant, Dr. Arrenstein?” called a woman’s voice from the door. Mable tried to pretend she wasn’t there.
“No, thank you. I’ve got it.” Then to Mable he said, “I’m going to get started now. I need you to roll onto your stomach. I’ll give you a sedative.” He held up a needle with a light green fluid as proof. “You’ll wake up in a few hours.”
Crying made her feel gross. She wiped her sleeve across her face and tried to remove the evidence, but she knew it was useless. “What if I don’t—”
“You will.”
She rolled over and rested her face on her arm.
Arrenstein smiled. Mable would have been comforted if she didn’t know that smile. It was his plastic smile, the one he slapped on his face during meetings and important comms.
It was the smile he used when he was lying.
The needle pricked her neck and everything went black. Everything but that smile.
DASIA
CPI-RQ2-06, NEW YORK
AUGUST 24, 2232
In the faint hours of morning, Dasia turned about Mable’s room for the thousandth time.
Mable’s sketches hung on the wall, a beautiful, exotic woman with flowing brown hair and big, bright eyes. A tall, thin man with dark hair and a muscular build. A girl with blonde hair and a warm smile
Dasia wondered if they were real people, or if Mable imagined them. If they were others she’d given her affections.
If she was just another conquest.
Then she heard the sound of rustling sheets. When she turned, Mable’s eyes were open.
“Hey,” Dasia offered with a smile.
“Hey,” Mable replied. “How long did I sleep?” She ran her fingers across her forehead.
“Not that long. Not even a day. You got here yesterday evening. Dr. Arrenstein brought you up around midnight and it’s not even dawn now.”
Mable’s eyes flashed about the room. “He got it out?”
“Said he did. You’re lucky.” Dasia pulled over the desk chair and sat down. “I’m supposed to take you home.”
Dasia could hardly blame her. If her own life weren’t such a steaming pile of shit, she would be tempted to go back as well.
Mable shook her head.
“He said you could. He said to take you to the shuttle dock whenever you were ready. Look.” Dasia pulled the metal bracelet from her pocket. “He gave me your transit badge. Coded to go anywhere you want.” Mable wasn’t stupid. She wouldn’t pass it up.
Dasia was alone again.
She was happy for Mable, but sad for herself. A strange, mixed up sensation she couldn’t sort out.
“I want to stay.”
Dasia stared. Her mouth opened in disbelief. “But, you—, why would—” It didn’t make any sense.
Mable pushed up onto her elbows and then to sitting. “I’m not leaving. It’s personal now.”
“Really? You’re going to stay?” Dasia flew at her, wrapped her arms around Mable’s neck so hard they both fell back into the pillows. Only a moment later did she realize what she’d done. “Oh god, I’m so sorry. Are you okay? Oh god. Does it hurt?”
Mable laughed but her hand was protective over the long scar across her head. “No, it feels fine actually.” She blinked in confusion.
Dasia lay her head on Mable’s shoulder, her arms wrapped around her chest. Mable ran her fingers through Dasia’s hair.
“He put you through a full cleaning while you were out. Said he was too tired to wait for the scar so you should go again before you leave.”
“Better than last time.” Mable laughed.
Dasia was in full-blown elation until she remembered it wasn’t Mable that called the shots around here. “Will he let you stay? Dr. Arrenstein, I mean. He was pretty set that I get you home.”
“Yeah, I’ll take care of it.”
Dasia got a weird look from Mable she couldn’t ignore. “Oh no, do you guys have a thing? Like a—”
“Hell no!” Mable shouted with a smile that twisted a moment later. “Gross.”
“Then what?”
She only shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m still figuring it out. Did you really think I’d leave you here by yourself?”
Dasia squeezed her tight.
“Would you have been sad if I left?”
Dasia didn’t know why Mable would ask such a dumb question, but she answered anyway. “Yeah. I would have been really upset.”
Mable ran her hands over her face. “Do I look awful?”
“No worse than a mangy rat.”
“Wow, thanks.”
Dasia laughed. “He said you could take a shower. Just don’t get your incision wet. Not that you’d need to, seeing as how you don’t have any hair over there. It’s kind of a good look actually.”
“Somehow I’m not convinced.” They both laughed.
“So are you going to tell me what happened?” Dasia finally asked.
“Yeah, the parts I remember anyway.” Dasia listened as Mable told her about the pharmaceutical complex, the cam that left big holes on the good side of her head, the Scholar woman who didn’t have any bugs, then the noise.
“What was it?”
“I don’t know. I’m assuming a bug, seeing as how I was infected. Maybe there wasn’t really a sound, just the bug in my brain making me think I heard it.”
“That’s awful,” Dasia admitted. “You’re really going to go back out there? Not that I want you to leave, but how can you be around those things anymore? Maybe they’ll put you on an intel team.” Dasia didn’t mention how much she wanted to work with her.
Mable was adamant. “I’m going to get them. I’m going to find them. And I’m going to kill them.”
AIDA
LRF-PS-101
AUGUST 24, 2232
Aida couldn’t remember ever being so nervous to talk to anyone. She was professional, intelligent, poised.
She had nothing to fear from anyone.
But that was before. Now she was a woman who violated the laws of her class. She was riding the last wave of success before her sudden and permanent plunge into the dismal filth on the bottom.
There was a sort of freedom in that.
Before her sat Calvin, the first and only man to ever touch her. He sat with features set like stone and eyes steady and calm, as if he’d planned this moment for a long time.
“Did you tell Sal?”
Aida shook her head. Somehow she couldn’t manage to form the words yet.
Calvin let out a sigh. “You can’t tell him. Ever. Do you understand?”
Why was he acting this way? Aida had never known him to be callous to her.
“I understand that you think you are responsible for that decision, but ultimately, what transpires between me and my husband is none of your business.”
In reality, she wouldn’t tell Sal. He didn’t care. Not about her or any of it. But she would never admit that to Calvin. Not after he treated her that way.
Calvin leaned his elbow on her desk. “Aida, listen.”
“Dr. Perkins, please.”
He looked as if she’d slapped him. His mouth hung open with the pain of it.
“Dr. Perkins, you are the leading expert in Planetary Systems. Not just in the LRF, but in science in general. No one is as qualified to find the exoplanet.”
Aida faked a laugh. “Don’t try to flatter me.”
“I’m not trying to flatter you. I’m telling you that falling on your sword won’t help anyone. We need you here.”
&n
bsp; She didn’t know what to say to that. He wasn’t wrong. They both knew it. But she wasn’t sure she could pretend like nothing happened. She couldn’t pretend like it didn’t change everything.
She didn’t know what to do.
Calvin breathed a heavy sigh. “Can we just talk?”
“We are talking.”
“I mean, like we used to. Where you don’t pretend you’re not panicking and I don’t pretend to be mad about it.” When she looked up, his lips were curled into a half-cocked smile, an apology and a joke all rolled into one.
Aida smiled, too.
“I know this is a big deal for you.”
“For both of us,” she reminded him.
“Yes, but I’m not married. I’d be reassigned and that would be the end of it. For you—”
Neither bothered to put it to words. Aida rolled her fingers together in her lap. “I’m not going to tell him.”
“You’re not?” he asked. She could hear the thinly-veiled shock in his voice.
Aida shook her head. “I don’t think he would really care, one way or the other.” Despite herself, she let a tear roll down her cheek. She didn’t even know why.
Calvin’s arms wrapped around her in an instant, enveloping and warm.
Her heart hammered that he was so near, that he still wanted her.
Aida knew then, without a shred of uncertainty, that this was the way it was going to be. She had more confidence in the junior researcher than in her own husband, and no matter how wrong it might be, she couldn’t go back. Not anymore.
“What are we going to do now?” she asked against his shoulder.
“Get back to work.”
Aida nodded. Not the answer she was hoping for, but probably the appropriate one.
Calvin pulled back enough to kiss her cheek. “Then I’d like it if you would have dinner with me in my apartment.”
Relief filled her like wind in a sail.
Calvin stood and pulled her up with him. Without a shred of shame or apology, he kissed her, good and hard like she’d scarcely known was possible.