Timony finished the dregs in her third cup of coffee, still not taking her eyes off the luxury apartment building across the street from her.
Cranor Towers. Expensive. Conveniently located. The height of New Destiny luxury.
Tobin lived here.
And she was pretty sure he was inside.
She’d ditched her phone down an air recycling vent and bought a burner. Not an easy thing to do, but she knew a shop where she could pay triple the price and the owner would erase the camera footage and forget to log the sale. She was a little hesitant to get rid of her phone—she couldn’t remember the last time she backed up her contacts and photos—but her suspicions were quickly confirmed. Twice she watched as Bazaar agents cruised by her in unmarked cars. She recognized them right off.
And they were probably looking for her.
No doubt they’d found Slade’s body by now. It was easy enough to draw a line to Timony, which meant she would be right at the top on the list of suspects. A motive was a fluid, easy thing to manufacture.
For all she knew, she was the Bazaar’s prime suspect.
Even though the dome was slowly drifting into the “evening” phase, the hat and sunglasses she purchased, and the alcove of the little coffee shop where she’d set up shop pretending to read a battered old paperback she found in a box in an alley, provided her just enough cover.
It wouldn’t last long.
But she needed to be sure. She’d called Tobin’s office, pretending to be a doctor needing to give him test results. The woman filling in for Oneida said he wasn’t in, and suggested calling his cell. Timony pretended to have it entered wrong, but the woman wouldn’t budge, yet promised to pass along the message.
The lack of a return call meant Tobin was out somewhere busy, or was holed up and staying off the grid.
Timony bet on the latter.
The question was: How to get inside the building?
The answer finally came to her in the form of a woman in a gray uniform, delivering packages. The woman stopped her truck in front of the building, entered with a few boxes, and came out about ten minutes later. The security guard at the front desk barely looked at her.
Bingo.
The truck had stopped twice previously on the block, so Timony bet it would stop again. When it did, further down the block, she dashed over, made sure no one was looking, and climbed onto the back. It was stuffed with boxes, so she slid into an alcove and waited.
When the delivery woman returned, she went about her business, shuffling in the back, music blasting so loud in her earbuds Timony could make out the words of the song. It was easy enough to get behind her and get an arm around her neck.
“I will not hurt you,” Timony rasped in her ear. “I need your uniform.”
The woman paused. A demand to strip was unsettling no matter the context, but she seemed confused it was coming from a woman.
“I will be back to let you go,” Timony said. “Twenty minutes. Do the smart thing. Cooperate.”
The woman nodded slowly, then stripped down to her underwear, passing the clothes to Timony. Timony pulled off her own clothes and put the uniform on. It was a little snug, but it would do.
“What’s your name?” Timony asked as she lashed the woman’s hands and feet.
“Marie.”
“I’m sorry about this, Marie.”
“I’m probably going to lose my job, you know.”
“Well, this is a big deal, too. I’m sorry.”
Timony pulled the truck around a corner and into a quiet alley, grabbed a package, and locked the truck up tight. Then she made her way back to the building. She stepped into the lobby and the security guard barely glanced up, before doing a double take. “Where’s Marie?” he asked.
Shit. This was probably a regular route for her. That’s why the guard didn’t pay attention to her.
“A delivery she was supposed to make got sorted onto my truck,” Timony said, holding up the box. “They made a big deal about it, said I had to get it over right away or someone’s head was going to roll.”
“Who’s it for?” the guard asked, narrowing his eyes.
She looked at the label and pretended to sound it out. “Tobin?”
The guard stared at her for another moment before shaking his head. “Shit, yeah, he’s a big deal.”
The guard motioned for Timony to hand him the package.
“I can just take it up,” she said.
The guard shook his head gently. “Nah, he’s not allowing deliveries,” he said, disdain sneaking into his voice. “Too busy to deal with the riffraff, I guess.”
Timony saw an in. Shared disdain for the powerful. She could work with that. Because it was true.
“He won’t even know I was there,” she said with a sly smile. “I’ll leave it at the door. I bet you’re busy enough without having to cater to everyone’s special instructions, right?”
The guard gave Timony a knowing sigh.
“Ain’t that the truth. All right, he’s in the penthouse.” He waved toward the elevator. “If he asks, you walked by me without asking, okay?”
“Sure thing,” Timony said. “Thanks.”
She walked calmly toward the elevator and hit the button for the top floor.
The elevator opened onto a hallway with an ornate door at the end. No cameras here. Good. Probably so Tobin could do whatever he wanted without worrying about watchful eyes. She made her way to the door and gently pressed the button, heard the chime on the other side, and stepped out of the way of the peephole.
A voice from the other side. “Yes?”
Tobin.
“Delivery,” she said.
“Leave it outside.”
“Can’t do that. Need a signature.”
Timony thought she heard a sigh, and then the sound of a door unlocking. It opened, revealing Tobin, his face heavy from lack of sleep, hair disheveled, in a bathrobe and pants and slippers. He looked annoyed, but his entire expression changed when he recognized her.
“Timony,” he said, eyebrows raised. “Sandwyn is looking for you. Figured you’d be on a freighter to Europa by now.”
“I don’t run that easily, Tobin.”
“You should probably come in, then,” he said.
Timony stepped through the threshold, into a grand entryway—spiral staircase leading to a second floor, an ornate chandelier. Marble everywhere. Not a naturally occurring rock on the moon. How the hell did they even get it up here? The weight alone made it hugely impractical.
Oh, to be rich and powerful . . .
Tobin didn’t seem interested in pleasantries. His whole body was caved in on itself. He didn’t beckon her, just walked through a darkened hallway, and Timony followed, past a series of closed doors, to one that was open: a study, full of books and paintings and a comfortable couch. He sat heavily and pointed at the chair across from him.
Timony sat and gave Tobin the opportunity to say something, but he didn’t. He just reached over to the decanter on the table and poured himself a fat dose of whiskey. It looked old, and when it came to whiskey, old meant good. He looked around for a free glass, couldn’t find one, shrugged, and held the decanter toward her.
She could smell it from here. Oaky and sharp.
She wanted to dull the pain.
That feeling that’d been swirling in her gut ever since she felt the lack of pulse in Slade’s neck.
But this whole mess was too big. Too deep. She needed a clear head.
“Not today,” she said.
Tobin looked surprised. She didn’t like how surprised he looked.
“You heard about Slade,” she said.
Tobin took a large gulp from his glass, placed it back down, and said, “Yes.”
“And Esparar. The Mosaic. We made contact?”
Tobin nodded.
“With what?”
“We don’t know. As you’re well aware, we can only communicate over the wire. Anything else would take months to transmit, with the distance they’re at. We’ve been asking questions and getting nothing in return.”
“So they could all be dead?”
“We don’t know.”
“Okay, then tell me what you do know.”
Tobin took another sip from his glass, placed it down hard on a nearby side table, and fixed her with a tight stare. “No, Timony, you tell me what you know. I have to say, things don’t look good—you’re in even deeper shit than you were the last time I saw you. The Bazaar thinks you killed Slade. So I’m going to make you an offer.”
“What’s that?” Timony asked.
Tobin smiled. “A little bit of rope. And it’s up to you, in this moment, whether you hang yourself or pull yourself up.”
She’d never seen this side of Tobin before. He was scared. She cursed herself because she only just noticed the bulge underneath his bathrobe. Either he was happy to see her—unlikely—or he was carrying some kind of weapon.
He suspected her, too.
So she told him. The meeting with Oneida. The dead Russian. The infiltration of the Bazaar. Getting away. Slade getting killed. Recounting it felt good; it helped to ground her, to remind her that what happened had happened to her, and not someone else. Tobin listened intently, and by the time she was done, his body had relaxed, and some of the friendly vibe had returned to his disposition.
“I believe you,” he said.
“Your turn,” Timony said, folding her arms and sitting back in the chair.
He nodded. Then he stood and walked over to the floor-to-ceiling windows on the other side of the study, looking out over the sprawl of New Destiny.
“There’s a whole other world out there, Timony. One that existed only in stories until now. Alien races. An organization with limitless technology and power. With their help, we could fix things here. We could grow and expand human society. Make things better.”
Even knowing the Mosaic had made contact with something, Tobin’s words were a lot to take in. She supposed she had expected some sort of primitive species, violent and troublesome. This felt a lot bigger than that.
“We first made contact with this society years ago,” Tobin said. “It’s called the Mutual. A coalition of races that shares technology and resources. We asked to join and they rejected us. As you can imagine, that didn’t sit too well with a lot of people.”
Tobin paused.
“We couldn’t get into some alien country club?” Timony asked.
“It’s not about that,” Tobin said. “Look around. Surely you’ve noticed. Infrastructure crumbling. Supplies running low. Rationing. We’re just a few decades behind Earth itself. New Destiny is falling apart.”
She had noticed, of course. “How much time do we have?” Timony asked.
Tobin shrugged.
“Until what? Pick your poison: Complete collapse? Massive system failure? Or a slow, gradual decline?” Tobin said. “It’s all on the table. I’d say we can keep running like this for another decade. Maybe less.”
“The IU told them this? The Mutual? And they declined?” Timony asked. “How bad was it?”
“Bad,” Tobin said. “We made our case. Said we were hanging on by our fingertips. That anything they could do to help us would be appreciated. And still, they told us no. So the decision was made among a few members of the government to . . . make our case with a little more force. That was always the point of the Mosaic’s mission. It’s not an expedition. The plan was for the US and China to obtain resources that would keep humanity alive.”
“That’s two.”
Tobin turned, a curious look on his face. “Hmm?”
“The US and China. That’s two. There’s a triumvirate at the top. Where did Russia land on this?”
Tobin nodded, turning back to the window. “The plan didn’t sit well with a few people, including myself. I’ve been protesting it since the beginning. I’m part of the so-called Gang of Six. Senators who get a peek at all major confidential information. I made it clear: the Interstellar Union should have been engaging in diplomacy. Russia took issue with the plan too, but somehow I doubt their intentions were as pure as mine. I’m not sure what they’re planning.” He bowed his head. “And now they have Oneida.”
“Why?”
“I’m not entirely sure,” he said. “Maybe to get to me. To manipulate me in some way, get me to help them. But I haven’t been contacted. I don’t think I know anything they don’t already know.”
Timony got up and joined him next to the window. She didn’t like that this conversation was happening with his back turned. She wanted to look him in the eye.
“How did Adan play into this?” she asked. “I saw the report. He didn’t die of an accidental overdose. Someone stuffed him with Boost.”
Tobin offered her a little smile. “I think Adan was involved. I’m not sure how.”
“Why did you come to me in the first place?” Timony asked.
“Because,” Tobin said, “you are the only agent in the Bazaar I believe will get to the truth. They made a huge mistake putting you on the bench. I know you’re talented. I needed you. And I’m sorry. I knew you’d dig deeper and uncover the truth if it were personal. I should have been up-front with you from the start.”
Timony searched his eyes, hoping to find something she could parse out, but instead, she was met with a real sense of regret.
“What about Jose?” she asked. “You were close to his mom. You both served together forever. If anyone could have pulled the strings to get him on board . . .”
Tobin nodded. “He’s a smart kid. He has a good heart. And he respects Delmar but he’s not a loyalist. What’s happening out there, we can’t control. We can’t even contribute to the conversation. I thought it might be useful to have someone aboard who wouldn’t fall into lockstep. I believe that when push comes to shove, Carriles will do the right thing, even if the right thing is the hard thing.”
“Carriles is a drug dealer who skated because his mom is famous,” Timony said. “Don’t glamorize that prick.”
“Yes, and you got jammed up good in that,” Tobin said. “Jose dealt you drugs. Did he force you to take them?”
Timony didn’t want to answer. She didn’t have an answer.
“Yes, he got through it on privilege,” Tobin said. “That’s how the world works. I’m very sorry to break this news to you. It’s very frustrating. Get over it. The fate of our species depends on what’s happening over there. I made a call that my gut told me might turn up something good. Because the alternative was they put in someone who would gladly jump after Delmar into the abyss. All I have now is hope, Timony. Hope that the better angels of our nature will prevail. That’s why I set you on this path. Because I believe in you, too. You’re the only one who can do this. Are you going to let me down?”
Timony tried to respond but the words got caught in her throat.
Tobin took a step toward her and lowered his voice. “Are you going to let me down?”
Maybe he meant it as a threat, but in that moment, that’s not how Timony took it. It felt more like the way her dad would encourage her, in that tough-love way of his, which she pretended to hate but in reality she knew had made her into the agent she was.
For better and for worse.
But right now, she chose to focus on the better.
“No,” she said, her voice small, but then she raised it. “I won’t. Where does Sandwyn fit into all of this?”
“Sandwyn?” Tobin’s eye twitched. “Why do you ask?”
“Because the night I heard the initial alarm, another Bazaar operative overheard it. Osman. Good guy. Hard worker. He ended up dead. With Adan and Slade—that’s three dead bodies.”
Tobin sighed, long and slow, before saying, “I believe he’s involved in the plan. Him and Delmar go way back. Even though the mission is up there”—he pointed vaguely toward the ceiling—“there’s still plenty of work to do down here.”
The pieces were being knitted together slowly. Timony wondered if that’s why Sandwyn let her live. Maybe he needed someone to take some kind of fall, as a kind of cover, after this whole thing played out. And her reputation was tarnished enough that no matter what she said, no one would believe her. A viable patsy if there ever was one.
“Great,” Timony said. “Us against the human race.”
“We have spent our entire history destroying ourselves in the pursuit of progress,” Tobin said. “It is a characteristic so defining that expecting us to snap out of it overnight is impossible. But there is hope. Small actions can become big ones. Do you trust me, Timony?”
She didn’t need to think on that one. “Yes.”
“Then find Oneida. That takes the Russian’s leverage away, and she might have some intel that can make a difference for us all,” he said, before patting her on the arm. “I know you can. And together, maybe we can pull our entire race’s ass out of the fire one more time.”
Tobin turned back to the window, the conversation over. Timony walked over to the chair and picked up the package, knowing she had to now go and free Marie from the truck. But it was hard to think, hard to move, hard to even breathe, knowing the enormity of the even heavier package that’d just been dropped onto her lap.