PERSONAL RECORD: DESIGNATION ZETA4542910-9545E
PALLAS STATION
478.2.6.03
Steam rose in delicate wisps over the disposable cup Kyleigh offered me, and the gentle scent of lavender momentarily tinged the air before the filtration units stole it away. I accepted the tea and thanked her before taking a tentative sip. The tisane’s soft, dusky taste soothed my nerves.
Kyleigh hopped onto the foot of my bed, resting her elbows on her knees. “You saved her, you know.”
My attention flitted to the sleeping medic.
“I’m glad you did. Whatever happens next, you kept them from stealing her away and locking her in a closet to die, like they tried to do to us.”
“That is not all I have done.” The bitterness of the memory overtook the tisane’s sweetness. “I killed that man, Kyleigh.”
“You didn’t,” she said carefully. “The drone did.”
I nudged aside the glass with the datasticks and set the cup on my bedside table. “I sent that drone. If I had been more precise, had thought through the commands . . .”
“I don’t know how anyone thought straight. I certainly didn’t. I didn’t even think to drop until Jordan shouted at me.”
“You were not armed. You could have done nothing.”
“I guess.” She shifted her weight. “You, however, saved the medic from being a hostage and an experiment. There’s an access hatch to the tunnels around the corner. If you hadn’t acted, she would’ve been gone, impossible to track without some high-end SAR tech. I mean, no one found us. Besides, with the roaches on the loose, those people might not have made it back to their hideout.”
“A hypothetical evil does not negate facts,” I murmured.
“I’m not saying it does.” She leaned forward to set a hand on my arm. “Look, I know you. You never meant for him to die, just to protect her. And you did. That matters.”
My fingers knotted and unknotted around each other. “Death without the opportunity of change . . . It is too final, Kyleigh, and it is my doing.”
Kyleigh’s usually soft expression hardened. “They didn’t think about it when they injected Freddie or the Elder or you. That man had no compunction about murdering people. Jordan is right to call them all genocidal maniacs.”
Her brittle tone changed the course of my thoughts. “Kyleigh, you are . . . angry?”
“Yes, but not at you. You did what needed to be done.” She pulled her knees closer and rested her chin on them. “Some help I am. I just curled up and did nothing. The point is, you took her back from those murderers. What they’re doing is against the laws of God and man.”
My forehead bunched. “You are not incorrect about the laws of man. But what of Max’s assertion that all people are unique and valuable? What of your unquantifiable God?”
Kyleigh unfolded her legs, stood, and brushed invisible dust from her leggings. “How are you feeling, other than being riddled with guilt?”
Her refusal to discuss her beliefs was not my concern, but a trace of disappointment wound through me, nonetheless. I paused to take an internal inventory before responding. “My headache has subsided, though my joints ache.”
“Your nose isn’t bleeding, so that’s good. Stars above, though. What are we going to do now? Alec—” She shuddered. “Alec lobbed that explosive charge through the doors just before they closed. The hall could’ve collapsed. At the very least, it’s probably damaged, and who knows if the bugs are actually gone. I don’t want to go back there, but I will, if they need me.”
“I will not allow it,” I said.
“You won’t be making that decision. And if I don’t go back, how are we supposed to save Lytwin and Patterson?” Kyleigh nodded toward the medic. “And her. And us, for that matter.”
“Although I know for a certainty that you will do your best, the burden is not yours alone.” I glared at the computer’s speakers, from whence had come my sole interaction with the virologist. “Dr. Clarkson must do her duty. Her refusal to comply is akin to—” My mind went blank, and after digging through my vocabulary, I finally ended with the closest, yet incorrect, term. “Mutiny.”
“I don’t like her much, either.” Kyleigh’s nose wrinkled. “Are you going to reactivate the drone?”
Afraid to close my eyes and risk seeing the drone fly at the man, I stared at the dried ooze of sealant under the plate covering the ventilation shaft. “I have already done so. It is charging.”
“Well, I’m going with you when you retrieve it.” When I protested, Kyleigh held up her hand. “You were one hundred percent right about how to manage it. I’m not concerned about it going rogue.”
“It is not that I fear for your safety this time,” I said, though I recognized the statement as a lie.
Her gaze flickered to the medic, then back to me, and a crease appeared over her nose. “Fair warning. You’re getting a hug today, whether you want it or not.”
I hastily grabbed the tea as if doing so would shield me.
A hint of a smile appeared. “You can hide behind that tea, but eventually it’ll be gone or cold, and you’ll be fair game.”
I did not recognize the idiom and tried to quirk a single brow, though as usual, both rose.
Kyleigh lofted one in response. “Don’t think raised eyebrows will stop me, either. Or maybe I can convince Timmons to hug you instead.” She grinned. “I suppose he wouldn’t mind.”
Heat suffused my cheeks.
Across the room, a thermal blanket rustled, and the medic croaked, “How long have I been asleep?”
Kyleigh’s grin vanished. “Not long enough. About two hours. Someone is supposed to bring us lunch soon.”
“Has anyone come up with a cure for concussions and viruses while I was out?” Before I could tell her that no one had done so, the medic rolled onto her side. “Any news on Lytwin and Patterson?”
“Not yet,” Kyleigh said quietly. “And none on Alec, either.”
The medic shifted to rest back against the wall. “What’s wrong with Alec?”
Kyleigh’s voice faltered. “We don’t know, exactly.”
“He was hit in the throat with a knife,” I said.
“What?” The medic shot upright and winced. “Even in a suit, a blow to the throat could kill him, let alone a knife!” She proceeded to fire questions at us as rapidly as the weapons in the hall. Had his chin been down or had it hit the less armored joint? Had it hit blade first or butt first? Had it bounced off or penetrated his suit? How was his breathing? What had been done?
“They said they’ll let us know when they have more information.” Kyleigh glanced at the red light over the door, then back at the woman on the other bed. “It’s a matter of hurry up and wait, though I suppose that could be Max coming with news. In the meantime, do you need a drink or something?”
The medic snorted. “Yes. But not the kind Maxwell has in here.”
“We have lavender tea,” I suggested.
“I didn’t mean . . .” The medic sighed. “Sure. Thanks.”
“I’ll get it,” Kyleigh said when I began to get out of bed. She padded across the room and plunked a packet of tea in a clean cup.
“Stars.” The medic swallowed visibly. “Only two hours? I didn’t realize how horrible it is, waiting to find out when you’ll die.” She fell silent for five seconds. “Tristram?”
Kyleigh paused in the act of pouring hot water. “Yes?”
“I shouldn’t have scolded you this morning.”
A flat smile flitted across Kyleigh’s face. “It’s all right.”
She brought the medic her tea, and while they conversed in undertones, I sipped my rapidly cooling tisane until the light over the door switched to green. I swallowed the remainder and set the empty cup aside.
Nate entered, and eschewing protocol, I ran to him. He held out his right arm, and I slid close. The scratched suit hid his heartbeat, which was another loss. I needed to hear his heart again, for I could not quite recall its cadence.
At the moment, however, his presence was balm enough.