Delta Fringe Series Boxset: Books 1-3

by Heather Lee Dyer

  I push that thought quickly aside and stand up. "No, my mom taught me the basics years ago." I hesitate, studying his face, unsure how much I should share with him. I take a deep breath and continue. "But after her accident, I made sure to learn everything possible about electrical and mechanical systems." I shrug. "I know it won’t bring her back, but if I can help others not have similar accidents, it'll all be worth it."

  Derek frowns, a dark look behind his eyes. "I'm sorry, I didn't know that's why you came to Delta. Your mom died on Mars Colony?"

  I nod slowly. I wonder how he didn't know that. It's a small station, and I just assumed everyone knew everything about me already. I knew the first week that Derek had lost both his parents and had been bounced around different foster placements.

  Derek glances around the corridor, clearly uncomfortable.

  I tighten my grip on my pack. "It's all right, I'm used to dealing with death, remember?" I paste on a stiff smile, hoping the awkward conversation is over.

  He looks back to me. There's a sudden fierceness in his expression. "No, it's not all right, and losing your mom is definitely not the same as working in the morgue."

  He steps closer to me. I think I should step backward, but I don't. My feet stay rooted in place.

  "I truly am sorry for your loss, Bren." He hesitates as emotions ripple across his face. He opens his mouth again, but then slams it shut and walks briskly past me to disappear down the corridor. My ears ring with his last words.

  I stand there in the corridor with security guards passing by me and stare after Derek wondering what just happened. Why did he leave so suddenly? And what was he trying to tell me?

  I walk back to the morgue in a daze, my head full of the day's activities and of Derek Paz. He's gone from calling me names and harassing me in class to telling me he's sorry for me losing my mom. I shake my head, knowing I'll never be able to figure him out. I don't have much experience with guys.

  My steps slow again as I step onto the walkway and let it carry me along. It did feel good to be able to trace the electrical fire and ensure our safety. All those years of taking double credits were worth it for this moment. Mom would've been proud. Sadness creeps over me as I picture her smiling down at me.

  I hop off the walkway and cut through one of the corridors toward the greenhouse. On a space station you have to use every bit of wall, floor, or any empty space available. Along the walls in this corridor, they've hung large pictures of the early days of the space station. Construction teams in space suits attach the three legs, and install the docks. There are even early pictures of the building of the greenhouse. I stop to inspect the pictures of bare land spread under the dome in the middle of Delta. I touch the picture as I wonder how long it took to get all that dirt here from Earth. If every space station around the galaxy built greenhouses, would there be any dirt left on Earth?

  I hear loud voices and laughter from behind me. A group of maroon-shirted security crew is coming toward me. I turn and walk away. Must be shift change.

  My footsteps echo in the corridor as I hurry to avoid them. I emerge into the commercial sector where I can least blend into the crowd and noise. I push my way through, hunched over with my head down, not making eye contact. I'm as tall or taller than most of the adults on the station. Even though I try to stay invisible, I still hear whispers of 'muerta' and 'unclean' in my wake. I clench my fists around the straps of my backpack. Guess my good day is over.

  The bio scanner buzzes as I stumble through the service entrance of the morgue, my eyes burning with tears. I close the door behind me and sink against the wall. Even if they weren't so mean, I would still be exhausted around so many people. I'm always more energized when I can spend time by myself or in the quietness of a library, classroom, or the morgue. Social situations drain me emotionally. Especially when I'm being judged so harshly because of my job. A small part of me burns angry against Derek. Even though today was a good day, those people out there remind me that it was Derek that started the whole muerta nickname.

  I shake my head and push off from the wall to head to my dad's office.

  7

  News Travels Fast

  I find my dad bent over paperwork behind his desk. His glasses are slipping down his nose, and he looks exhausted. I clear my throat to get his attention as I paste on a smile.

  He looks up, lost in thought. "Bren. Good, you're back." The unfocused look in his dark eyes quickly melts away. Even though I've lived most of my life away from my dad, we would vid often, so I have a fairly comfortable relationship with him. Although it's been a bit of an adjustment for both of us now that I'm here full time.

  "Did I miss any interesting cases?" I lean against the doorframe.

  He shakes his head. "Not really. One of the cryogenics researchers will be here tomorrow to work with us, so I'm just getting some files ready for her." He stands up and stretches. "I heard you had some excitement on your field trip today."

  I narrow my eyes and push away from the door. "That news went around fast."

  He smiles down at me. I definitely get my height from him. He's probably close to 6' 7", tall for someone living on a space station. He's one of the few people I don't feel too tall or gangly around. I also get my darker complexion and tight curly hair from him. Mom had beautiful dark golden skin that matched her bronze eyes. She was the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen. I always felt ugly next to her, even though she always made sure to tell me how beautiful I was. I frown as memories of her come flooding over me again.

  Dad steps around his desk and in two long strides grabs me up in a hug. I squeeze back, grateful that he's always loved me all these years even though we were so far apart from one another.

  I step back and ask, "So what did you hear about my trip, and who told you?"

  He sits on the edge of his desk. "You know whenever there's any sort of security issue, I'm one of the first people that get notified, right?" He winks at me, clearly amused.

  I grimace. "I forgot." As the medical examiner my dad is always called to all personnel emergencies, not just to fatal situations. Delta is too small to have many qualified medical personnel, so we're responsible for several jobs. Cross training is essential on a space station.

  "And then of course what they told me didn't surprise me at all." He raises an eyebrow.

  "Um, that there was a problem with the Valiant?" I give him a cheesy smile.

  He grins and shakes his head.

  I take a deep breath. "Okay, fine. They told you that I interfered again where I wasn't supposed to." I frown, my palms sweaty. Although I tended to find myself in trouble on Mars from being too curious, I'd kept to myself here and hadn't had any cause to be in trouble. Until now, apparently.

  His expression turns serious, which makes my stomach drop.

  "Yes, that." He pauses. "And the fact that you were quick witted enough to shut down the atmosphere in the bridge that saved you and your team from airborne toxins. And not only that, but you tracked down the source of the electrical problem, temporarily fixing it, in order to complete your school assignment. Which also bought time for the engineers to get there." He puts his large hands on his hips, his voice deep as he finishes with a question. "Is that about it?"

  My mouth gapes open. "They told you all that?"

  "Yes. Although I'm amazed the security team didn't stop you. Why did they let you do all that?"

  I shrug. "I looked determined?"

  He narrows his eyes at me.

  I chew the inside of my cheek and try to look away, but I can't. He's pinned me with that expression of his. The one I can't get away from. I take a deep breath. "I think they're scared of me."

  "What? Why would they be scared of you, Bren?"

  Seriously? "Because I work in the morgue. They think contact with me is somehow bad luck or something. Don't people think that of you?"

  He stares at me for a second, and then starts laughing.

  "What are you laughing at?" I frown.


  He calms himself and tries to give me a serious face. But fails.

  "What?" I ask again, exasperated.

  He clears his throat. "Are you trying to tell me those security guys are scared of you because you work with dead people?"

  I step over to the shelves that line one whole wall of his office. I trace my fingers along the books. "Not just them. Most of the people here on Delta don't want to touch me or talk to me because of it." I look back to him. "Don't people treat you different because of what you do?"

  He clasps his hands in front of his body, relaxing. "Did they treat you and your mom differently on Mars because of what you did?"

  I always hate when he answers my question with another question. I press my lips together and glare at him.

  He waits.

  Fine. "Yes, they did sometimes. Mostly the miners down below were superstitious about anything to do with their dead. But they didn’t go out of their way to avoid me like they do here. And the majority understood someone had to take care of the deceased."

  He nods. "It's the same way here. Even though many people have qualms about our job, most people understand that someone has to go retrieve the bodies and investigate the deaths. But they also know that we help the living too." He gestures between us. "Our medical knowledge helps the living as well as the dead. Don't you agree?"

  I tilt my head as I stare into his warm, dark eyes. "Of course. But the kids in my classes don't. I get called—" I hesitate. "I get called muerta. I don't have any friends, Dad. No one wants to be around someone who touches the dead."

  "Oh, Bren." Dad gathers me up into another hug. "I'm so sorry they say that. I didn't know."

  He suddenly pushes me back at arm’s length and looks at me. "But someone must not feel that way about you."

  "Why do you say that?" I wipe a rogue tear off my cheek.

  "Because one of the security guards that was with you today requested you to come with them on another investigation in the morning. He's already cleared it with your teachers to miss class."

  "Seriously? Me? What kind of investigation?" My pity party fades away quickly and my pulse quickens.

  "About a half day's journey outward there was some sort of altercation aboard a science vessel. It's immobile and quarantined until we can figure out what happened aboard. All of the crew is missing." He grins mischievously at me. He knows I love a challenge.

  "So a security guard requested me? Why?" I bet it was Goddard.

  "Because you noticed things the rest of the group missed. They respect the work you did aboard the Valiant and need all the help they can get tomorrow. I can't go because I'm waiting for that researcher to arrive."

  "It sounds more interesting than listening to my class tell death jokes about me all day." I laugh softly.

  Dad turns and goes back to sitting at his desk. "You'll need to meet them at the security dock at seven in the morning."

  "Are there any other specialists going with us?" I think about all the engineering questions I had aboard the Valiant today. It would've been nice to have one with us.

  He shakes his head. "They've already had several specialists combing over that ship over the past week. Tomorrow it's just you and the security guys, and your classmate that was there today will be also going with you." He brushes his hand over the top of his desk to pull up the 3D paperwork he was working on.

  My heart misses a beat. "Derek? He's going as well? Why?" My voice ends up an octave higher than normal.

  Dad cocks an eyebrow at me. "Yes, I think so. He's a security apprentice, right?"

  "Yes, sort of, but—"

  "Well that makes sense then." His attention fades back into the work in front of him.

  I close my mouth and watch as Dad gets completely absorbed into his work and forgets all about me standing in front of him. Guess that's where I get my concentration from.

  I walk out of his office wondering how I got myself into a situation where I would have to spend yet another day with Derek Paz. I can feel the anxiety rising inside, my stomach twisting. I go to my quarters and throw my bag onto my bed and then head down to the morgue to see what needs to be done. Working for a few hours in the autopsy room should get my mind off Derek.

  8

  The Tempest

  My alarm sounds and I clumsily wave my wrist over my cube to turn it off. I'm exhausted. Turns out, when Dad said I didn't miss much yesterday, he just meant nothing out of the ordinary came into the morgue. But there were several bodies that needed to be processed, so I stayed up late working. It was a good way to push any thoughts of Derek out of my head. By the time I stumbled to bed, I was too tired to think about my day.

  I sit up suddenly as I remember what today is. A chill goes through me as I think about having to see Derek again. After how we left things yesterday, I'm not sure what to think. And I stayed up so late working that I didn't get any research done on the wreck we're visiting today. I'll have to do it on the trip over there. Which actually works out pretty good because then I have an excuse to not talk to Derek.

  I shower and eat breakfast quickly. A message pings on my cube, and it’s Dad saying he's already on his way to go meet the researcher and for me to try to behave today. I snort. It cracks me up when he tries to be all parental on me.

  Before leaving, I stop by the morgue, since today both Dad and I will be gone. Sometimes Dad gets so wrapped up in his projects that he forgets to check the schedule. I don’t want to have a conversation with anyone this early, so I just peek my head through the autopsy door. There are two techs looking over my work from the night before, so I hurry out of the morgue confident everything will be taken care of. I head toward the security dock.

  The same security crew as yesterday, headed by Goddard, is there waiting. No sign of Derek. Good, maybe he'll miss the transport and I won't have to worry about the whole awkwardness of dealing with how we left things yesterday. I'm still not sure what chord I struck during our parting conversation, so I don't know if he's even speaking to me now.

  The ship waiting for us is a larger version of the one we took yesterday. This one has seating for up to seventy-five people, but it isn't as new. It takes me awhile to get cycled through all the seals to the ship, but once aboard I look around for Goddard. I find him giving orders to a few new faces at the main console. Once he notices me, he waves me over.

  I meet him up front and gesture around me. "Do we really need this big of a ship for our small crew?" Just as I'm asking, the seals open again to allow several other guards in.

  Goddard smiles. "It's protocol when we go this far from Delta to take one of the larger ships. In case we come across another stranded vessel that has survivors." He raises his eyebrows at me. "Or for when you find our missing crewmen."

  My eyes widen. "Me? Why do you think I can find them when the other teams haven't been able to?"

  "You see things differently and notice things that others don't see or that they ignore. The station investigators and first responders have already been all over the ship this week but have found nothing. Not even a clue to where the crew went. I think you have something special, a gift for this kind of investigative work."

  The compliment warms me and I can't help smiling. "You were the one to request me today, weren't you?" I ask accusingly.

  He shrugs, a small smile playing on his lips.

  Several more guards enter the ship, including Derek who's dressed in his tan and black apprentice uniform. Scarp it, he made it. My stomach drops and I let out a groan.

  Goddard looks over and shakes his head. "What is it with you two? Yesterday it was icy between you guys for most of the trip. Then you worked quite well together on the Valiant. And now you look less than thrilled to see him, even though he's the one who convinced Sergeant Scott to bring you along." His eyebrows pinch together as he looks between Derek and me.

  My mouth gapes open in surprise. I force it closed, biting the tip of my tongue. "He requested me for this investigation? I thought it was
you." The metallic taste of warm blood fills my mouth as I stare over at Derek.

  Goddard chuckles and just walks away. I don't have time to process this new revelation as we're soon ordered to go up to the top gallery and buckle in.

  Derek takes a seat up front next to the sergeant. The sergeant is tall, muscular, and has a serious demeanor. I've seen him a couple of times around the station, but haven't ever talked to him. Even if I weren’t the muerta, he doesn’t seem like the approachable type.

  Why on Quasar would Derek recommend me for this investigation and not bring any of his friends along? I scan the room just to make sure my original impression was correct. Nope. Just Derek and I, and fourteen security guards. No other kids from our class. Very strange. I guess sometime today I'll have to actually ask Derek before it drives me crazy wondering.

  I buckle in and pull out my holo cube and tablet. There’s no one sitting near me, so I prop my feet up on the back of the chair in front of me and get comfortable. I search for any information about the Tempest, the ship that we're heading toward. I find many detailed records spanning the last twenty years. The Tempest is a science ship, and I’m surprised by how many trips across the galaxy it’s made. I pull up the most recent articles and security logs that start when Delta first received the Tempest's distress call. I read official reports and transcriptions from the officers mentioning seemingly random mechanical failures and spotting another ship on their long-range sensors.

  I rub my eyes. There’s something missing in all this documentation. There are a lot of differences in details between the captain's logs and his officer's logs in the time right before the crew's disappearance. From the initial distress call to the last recorded transmission spans thirty-eight minutes. Whatever happened to the Tempest's crew did so fairly quickly.

  I study for the whole six hours it takes us to reach the drifting ship. I'm re-reading the communication officer's final entry when someone bumps into my legs causing them to drop to the floor, sending my cube flying.