I sit down in front of the terminal and insert my tangs. This is too important and I don’t want to drop out of the Q-net during a critical time.
“Ready?” Beau asks me.
I square my shoulders and draw in a breath. “Yes.”
“Let’s go.”
We access the Q-net. I take point and lead Beau to Jarren’s maze of hidden clusters, alarms, and programs. To say it’s complex is not doing it justice. It’s a work of freaking art.
Damn, Beau says. How did you find this?
I followed Jarren, now shush.
As I enter the maze, I have a brief thought about being the proverbial mouse in the maze searching for a piece of cheese. Queen Mouse will show Jarren, the murdering looter, just what she can do. I clamp down on a laugh. Niall’s nickname for me is very appropriate right now.
What’s so funny? Beau asks.
Too much to explain. And I need to concentrate. Slowing, I worm through the intricate layers with care. Beau slides in behind me with nary a ripple. After all this time working together, we’ve developed a synergy.
We near the breach. Jarren’s Q-net fingerprints are all over like a green slime on wet walls. I channel my inner snail and squeeze through his gaps at a…well, snail’s pace. It’s tight and I wonder if he increased his security measures. Did he suspect someone found his exit? Fear sweeps through me, tingling down to my fingertips. I pause. I check the programming again, seeking traps. Being thorough, it takes me a while and—oh, you tricky bastard. There’s a near invisible web around the breach.
Stars. The strands of the alarm are woven tight, but there are a few tiny fissures. I aim for one of the bigger ones, which isn’t saying much as they’re all really small. I sense Beau backing away. No surprise, getting one of us through is going to be a miracle. With two of us there’s no chance in hell.
An ache throbs in my head as I navigate through the tight threads. Halfway through, I’m stuck with nowhere to go. I’m just too…heavy. It’s hard to describe, but I’m like a shadow-blob with too many tentacles. Too much mass. If I move in any direction, I’ll trigger an alarm. Argh!
Too bad I can’t turn less dense like the shadow-blobs. Frustration pulses. I managed to get through the blockade when I was dreaming, for stars’ sake. And when I flew to the satellite feeds it was ea—
Oh my stars. A terrible idea occurs to me. I mean really really bad. But it’s the only play I have left. Before I can change my mind—I can’t believe I’m going to do it—I remove my tangs.
My presence—for lack of a better word—lightens. The web of alarms around me no longer constricts. Fun and frightening. I fly between the strands, heading straight for Jarren’s breach. When I reach it, I slow back to snail mode and slip through the crack in the blockade. Peeking out, I brace for an ambush.
Nothing except the vastness that is the rest of the Q-net. Yes! I don’t waste time celebrating, though. My first task is to create an escape route through the blockade. A near-invisible one so we can contact DES without alerting Jarren. I move far away from his exit. It’s easier on this side because all his programs are set to keep information in. My tunnel is like a sewing needle sliding through the tiny holes in a fabric’s weave. In this case, the needle is hollow to allow messages to get through. It’s a delicate and exacting process.
Once I finish, I seek a way to contact DES, even though a headache slams on my skull. I’m thinking about searching for an interstellar navigator when a life-saving device pops up from nowhere. Yeah, I know it sounds crazy. But it reminds me of those red floating survival rings we had when I was a kid on Planet Ulanqab. The research base was right next to a shallow lake. I’ve lots of good memories of playing in that lake with Phoenix—splash fights, dunking him, being dunked, sculpting Warriors out of sand—go on, say it, we were archeology geeks.
It’s pretty obvious the life ring is a trap set by Jarren. I inspect it carefully for his fingerprints, search for hidden alarms, and near-invisible traps. It’s clean. Huh. I mull over the implications for a while. It only materialized when I considered finding a navigator. Who would leave something like this so close to the blockade? And who had the skills to hide it so well?
The answer appears as suddenly as the device. I grab the ring. A message from Chief Vasily pops up. Confirmation that I wasn’t dreaming when I reached out to the navigation chief. Good news, right?
2522:215: Officer Radcliff, DES security personnel were unable to find, let alone break through, your so-called looters’ blockade. In fact, considering the planet has gone silent, most of them think your message is a morbid prank from a bored wormer. I’m not as certain since the skills needed to reach me are beyond a typical wormer. I’m leaving this hidden connection to me with the hope that you can once again “escape” the blockade and contact me.
I guess I couldn’t blame the Chief for thinking my message was a hoax, but you have to give him credit for following up and for the skill needed to keep the so-called looters from finding it. He sent it fourteen days ago. I hope he’s not in a time jump by now.
2522:229: Chief Vasily, thank you for being willing to believe me. We’ve created an escape tunnel through the blockade. Although I now have access to DES, I’m still concerned about the looters discovering our new ability to communicate. Can you aid us in contacting someone in security who can guarantee us a secure and safe connection?
In other words, someone who knows how to keep the wormers out. Knowing Beau is waiting for me, I’m about to use my escape tunnel and return, when a message arrives. That was fast.
2522:229: Officer Radcliff! So glad to hear from you. I’m about to win a ton of credits from the rest of the crew. I’m patching in our Chief of Security, Officer Odette Bouchet. She’ll make sure you reach the right people at DES without tipping the looters off. Here she is!
Hello Tace! Thank the universe you’re alive. Is your son, Keith, also well?
Oh no. She knows Radcliff and is purposely trying to test him. Better fess up before she asks me something I don’t know.
>>Officer Bouchet, this is Junior Officer Ara Lawrence. I’m sorry for the deception, but I used Officer Radcliff’s name because no one would know me as I’m new to security. Both Radcliff and his son Niall are fine along with the rest of the security team and the scientists on the base. We only had one casualty, Officer Ivan Menz. Please allow me to connect you to Radcliff.
<
>>I interned with Chief Hoshi and she taught me a great deal about the Q-net. Please let me connect you. It won’t take me long.
<
Ha. Another test!
>>It’s Officer Radcliff’s wife’s maiden name.
<
Whew. I quickly retreat from the cluster and use my new escape route to return to Yulin’s security. Radcliff and Morgan are still entangled, but Beau is not. Odd.
What took you so long? Radcliff demands.
His growl tells me two things, I’ve been worming much longer than he expected and he was worried. I briefly explain about Vasily and Officer Bouchet.
How did you—
No time, she’s waiting. You need to do your security chief thing right now.
Update Dorey, Radcliff says to Morgan. Lead on, Lawrence.
Even though I created the escape tunnel, I’m still super careful not to make too many ripples. Radcliff follows me with ease. After we’re past the blockade, I show him Vasily’s message.
He notices the life ring. Now what?
Grab it, I say.
Cute.
I can’t take any credit.
He gives me the Q-net equivalent of a grunt. Go back to the base, Lawrence. I can take it from here.
Can you find the tunnel through the blockade without alerting Jarren?
I’ve been worming in the Q-net since it was invented, I think I can handle retracing our route.
A si
mple yes would have sufficed, I grumble at him.
You’re not the only who can snark. Then he connects to Officer Bouchet before I can snark back.
The messages between them fly fast and furious. I leave them to it. Besides, my brain has turned to jelly. And by the painful contractions in my head, I suspect brain matter might ooze from my ears. Even though I’m tired and don’t have tangs in, I still ensure I disentangle properly to avoid another killer migraine.
Fire burns across my forehead. I rub it as I glance around. Beau is leaning against his desk staring at me with a hard gaze. He’s holding his hand out. For a moment my exhausted brain thinks there’s a couple of pain pills on his palm. Except they’re—
“Care to explain these?” Beau asks.
My tangs.
I sigh. Dredging up a bit of energy, I enlighten him. He asks all the same questions as Radcliff and my parents.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Beau asks. He tries to maintain a neutral tone, but we’ve spent so much time together that I know he’s hurt.
“Denial. If I didn’t acknowledge it, then this scary new thing didn’t exist. But even I couldn’t maintain it and I’m the Queen of Denial.” Then I rat Radcliff out. “I planned to tell you after this op.”
“If you were going against Radcliff’s order, why not tell me before the op?”
“Because of…” I wave a hand at him.
“What?”
“That expression on your face. That’s what. You’re not sure if you believe me or not. You think I’m a freak. And I needed you super focused today and not worried I might turn catatonic.”
“Why? I couldn’t get through. I didn’t help.”
My brain might be turning into mush, but I notice he didn’t protest and say I’m not a freak. “You helped. A lot. I was more cautious—otherwise I would have run right into that web. Also if we triggered an alarm that close to the breach, Jarren was sure to investigate. You would have talked to him again. That gave me more confidence to navigate that sticky little surprise.” I rub my temples as strange sparks flash and swirl in my vision. Closing my eyes just makes everything brighter so I open them.
“Here.” Beau hands me my tangs, two pills, and the glass of water.
“Thanks.” I down the pills in one gulp.
“That’s my job, taking care of the super wormer.”
It’s not a compliment. I surge out of the chair and get right in his face. “Get over yourself, Beau. You’re a talented wormer, and a smart guy. Yes, I’m now some prodigy in the Q-net, but it’s because something or somethings fried my brain.” I tap my pounding head with my index finger. “I don’t recommend it as it’s frankly terrifying when it happens. But you know what?” I poke him in the shoulder.
Beau’s amber eyes are huge, but he manages a weak, “What?” as if he’s afraid to ask.
“You’re a jerk. I really need my partner to understand, to be supportive, to be someone I can tell all this crazy crap to without worrying he’ll think I’m a freak. This isn’t some competition, Beau. If you were the one to reach DES, I’d be jumping for joy, excited for you and the rest of the base. This is a big freaking deal. We might just survive this. But all I want to do is…” My skin flushes with a clammy sweat as the floor undulates under me.
“Do what?” Beau asks.
“Puke.” I rush for the trash can. Kneeling over it, I heave out the two pain pills and the dregs of my lunch from so very long ago. A sour smelling bile gushes out next. Ugh.
Beau crouches next to me. He sweeps my hair back, holding it out of the way. His other hand is on my forehead. His palm is cool and comforting, helping to dampen the spike of pain that is hammering on my skull in time with my dry heaves. When I’m done, he pulls me from the rancid stench. Scooting back, he holds me to his chest, supporting me as I regain my breath.
“You forgot one thing,” Beau says when my heart rate returns to normal.
“Oh?”
“When you said I was talented and smart.”
Figures he’d remember that. “Did I say that? I must have been hallucinating.”
He ignores the jab. “You did. You forgot to add how incredibly handsome I am as well.”
I groan. “How could I forget your giant ego?” But inside I’m smiling because my Beau is back.
The door opens. Niall takes one step inside the office and stops. He’s staring at us. At that moment, his resemblance to his father is almost uncanny. Seems a supernova glower can be inherited. Who knew? Not that I blame him. I’m still wrapped in Beau’s arms, pressed against his very muscular chest. And why did I only notice his muscles now? Oh boy. Niall’s nose crinkles and he glances at the noxious trash can.
I try to move away, but Beau’s arms are like iron.
“You good?” Beau asks me.
“Yeah.”
“Help her stand,” Beau orders Niall, releasing me.
Niall grabs my wrists and pulls me to my feet. Except my legs have turned into two overcooked carrots that refuse to hold my weight. I sag, but Niall scoops me up as if I weigh nothing. Opening my mouth to protest, I meet his gaze and wisely keep quiet. I suspect this is more for him than me. Men.
“Should I call Dr. Edwards?” Beau asks.
“No. All I need is food and rest,” I say before Niall can say yes. “I’m sorry about your trash can.”
“No, you’re not,” Beau says with a smile.
True.
“Go get that rest.” He shoos us.
Niall carries me out. Radcliff is still at his terminal. Although his gaze is aimed at his screen, his stare is distant. Morgan has disentangled.
She spots us. “You know most people would have escaped the blockade, made contact with DES, and called it a day.”
“You mean the lazy underachievers?” I ask.
Morgan laughs. The sound erupts from her gut in short bursts. Finally! Is it strange that I’m more proud of making her laugh than breaking through Jarren’s blockade? Probably.
“They also know their limits and wouldn’t need to be carried because they exhausted themselves,” Niall says.
“I’m feeling better, you can put me down.”
His hold tightens. Guess that’s a no. So I endure the indignity of being carried like a baby back to my unit and into my bedroom.
Niall lays me on the bed. “No one showed up for dinner so I came looking for you. Are you hungry?”
“Starving.”
“Stay here.” He jabs a finger at the bed before turning on his heel and leaving.
As much as I’d love to remain, the vile taste in my mouth just won’t be ignored. I sneak into the washroom while Niall is busy in the kitchen. Brushing my teeth is pure heaven. Of course, he’s standing on the other side of the door after I finish freshening up—that’s code for using the toilet, washing my hands and face, and combing my hair. His arms are crossed.
“It’s been a really long day, and I needed to use the washroom,” I say in my defense. No softening in his posture. Fine. Let’s see if he can maintain his overprotective stubbornness. “Okay, you’re right. I’m still not steady.” Ah there’s a bit of give. “I need a shower. You can join me and make sure I don’t fall.”
He drops his arms in surprise and steps back.
Score!
Then he squints at me in suspicion. Guess I shouldn’t have smirked. A beep sounds from the kitchen.
“Your ass better be in bed in one minute,” Niall growls then heads to the kitchen.
Despite the pain gnawing on my skull, I’m in bed within thirty seconds. Niall arrives soon after with a tray. On it are two bowls of delicious smelling beef stew, two glasses of water, and two cups of chocolate pudding. He sets it down and then joins me on the bed.
“Thanks,” I say.
A grunt, which is better than a growl. We eat in silence and each bite revives me. I scrape the sides of the cup with my spoon, trying to get every last bit of pudding.
“There’s more,” Niall says. He takes the
tray and returns with another pudding cup.
My hero.
He sits on the edge of the bed while I suck it down. It doesn’t take me long. Gotta love a sugar rush. But he’s still uncharacteristically quiet.
“Are you mad about Beau and I?” I finally ask. “That wasn’t anything. I was sick and he—”
“I know. No. I’m just worried.”
Not what I expected. “About me and Beau?”
“No. Although at first…” He shakes his head. “No. About you.” Niall stares off into the distance. “Remember when I said you reminded me of a comet?”
“Yes.” Now I’m worried. Where is he going with this?
“I’m afraid you’re too much like a comet. Burning so bright, doing impossible things, going full speed. I’m worried you’ll burn out or crash. You’ve no sense of self-preservation. You’ll give your all until you collapse.”
Considering what happened today, it’s hard to argue with that last comment. But… “I’m not suicidal. I have a good sense of self-preservation.”
“Okay, tell me one example where you didn’t risk your life for someone else or risk your health to accomplish something.”
I search through my memories. There has to be a time. “Ah ha! There was a rodeemian spider in my room on Planet Wu’an. Those suckers are deadly and I called my dad to take care of it.” Knowing my dad, he captured it and tossed it outside the base.
“That doesn’t count.”
“I think it should.” Rodeemians are hairy, hand-sized, horrible little monsters. I shudder.
Chasing the Shadows (Sentinels of the Galaxy Book 2) Page 21