PERSONAL RECORD: DESIGNATION ZETA4542910-9545E
CTS THALASSA
478.2.7.01
Disheartened, aching, and tired, I left the infirmary two hours later with one purpose: talk to Archimedes Genet without the Recorder monitoring our conversation. Cane in hand, I made my way to the bridge, and for once, fortune turned in my favor when the door opened in a matter of seconds. Alec Spanos stopped on the threshold, his thick eyebrows soaring at the sight of me. My eyes dropped to his throat, which was still hideously bruised.
“Alec,” I said without any appropriate salutation, “I must speak to the captain. Is he within?”
“Sure.” He motioned for me to enter.
Sudden self-consciousness held me back. “There is a step, if I remember correctly, and I am not proficient at steps.”
“I’ll ask.”
He left and returned with Archimedes Genet.
“Welcome back,” the captain said. “Alec implied there’s an issue. What do you need?”
As quickly as I could, I explained the necessity for contacting the Consortium, adding the one spark of hope that whatever ship Skip and Xavier Johnson had, the average time to New Triton was thirty days.
“Thirty days won’t matter if Skip”—Alec pronounced the name as if it were a curse—“has comms running. If Ross is correct, Skip’s contacts could implement the plans before that ship approaches New Triton.”
A chill swept over me. “I had not considered that they, that he—” I swallowed. “That makes the message even more urgent.”
The captain frowned. “Jackson has already sent his report, but we’ve no idea if it’s been forwarded to the Consortium or not. This lack of communication will be the death of people.” He gestured to the bridge. “Use my office: write one up now. It’ll be at New Triton within an hour and a half. Better still, send it to the Training Center on Krios Forty-Seven and Attlee, too.”
My heart sank. How could I write when I could not read? I fisted my right hand and tapped my thigh. Blinding pain shot through my arm, and I gasped. An adequate reminder. “I will need help.”
A hand rested on my left shoulder, and Alec said, “Whatever you need.”
“Thank you.”
“This way,” Archimedes Genet offered. “The new doctor knows?”
I stiffened. “Yes.”
“Then why is he sending you on his errands? He should transmit it himself.”
Fresh panic vibrated through me. The Recorder-doctor would know what I had done, and I had no idea what he would do. Perhaps lock me in a room or keep me close by? I would lose the three ten-days of freedom I had left.
“Stars,” Alec said. “What is it? You’re white as a sheet.”
“I will be well momentarily.”
“Spanos, as soon as she’s done, get her back to the infirmary—”
“No!”
Both men stared at me.
“Anywhere but there,” I whispered. “I do not need to return until tomorrow. I . . . I am ready to write the report.”
When Alec shifted to my other side and took my right arm, I cried out. He jerked his hand away and stared at his red-stained fingers. He caught my hand gently and even more gently rolled up my sleeve to reveal a blood-soaked bandage.
“What is this?” Archimedes Genet asked curtly.
“Subdermal medical tracker,” I said.
Alec growled, “There’s bruising on your arm, too.”
“Of course there is, Alexander Spanos. You do not think I wanted this, do you?”
A muscle in the captain’s jaw ticced, then he glanced at Alec. “Change of plans. Get her to her old computer lab. Help with that report, and I’ll send someone with a hoverbed and personal supplies.”
“Captain?” Alec asked.
“Hodges,” the captain said with a quirk of his brow.
A sudden grin swept away Alec’s scowl.
Archimedes Genet turned to me. “I’m afraid you are a security risk. Smuggling insect parts onto my ship? I am extremely disappointed.”
My mouth fell open. “I would never—”
“I take contraband quite seriously.” The captain shook his head, and his officer’s queue rustled on his back. “I’ll have to post guards at the door. No one comes in or out without direct orders. You’re not allowed to go as far as half a meter without escort. And Spanos, I don’t want this on the record, so when you see Timmons, tell him that he and I need to have a talk about the antenna found in her suit lining.”
“You cannot mean this!” My breath caught. “There was no antenna! Nathaniel Timmons had no part in any—”
“And Williams,” the captain said over my protest. “We’ll need to restrict her activity as well as we investigate this . . . plot. When is she arriving?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Alec,” I gasped, stunned.
“Very well. I’ll mention that when I talk to Timmons. I’m afraid we’ll have to keep an eye on Williams as well, in case she’s involved.” Archimedes Genet had the audacity to smile, but there was a sharpness to it that made even less sense. “I’ll have two hoverbeds sent up from storage. Whether or not Williams is in on the smuggling, and even if this former Recorder might be a security risk, I won’t have anyone say I didn’t provide medical care to someone on my ship.”
He bowed slightly and strode back to the bridge. The doors slid shut, and I slumped back against the bland, beige wall.
“Alec,” I managed, “how could you?”
“Easiest thing in the system,” he said.
I refused to talk to him as we made our way through the ship. He made me stop twice and rest on the benches covering the chemical backup ductwork. The flicker of pride in Nate’s role in maintaining the system that had saved the lives of everyone onboard was replaced by a sense of betrayal when Alec urged me onward.
When we reached the computer laboratory, Nate and Zhen had already positioned the beds on the wall opposite my favorite computer and the workplace safety posters. Zhen had the forethought to fetch sheets, blankets, and towels, which she stacked on the table they had pushed to the back of the room near the charging station. They jumped to their feet when we entered, and as soon as the door slid into place and clicked shut, I fell against Nate’s chest.
“Careful with her arm, Nate,” Alec warned.
Nate frowned. “What happened?”
“She has a tracker.”
“Subdermal medical tracker,” I corrected.
Zhen narrowed her eyes. “What’s going on?”
Alec—of all things—Alec chuckled?
I turned to face Nate’s friend. “It is not funny, Alexander Spanos.”
“Alec, what happened?” Nate pulled me close, but his voice was steady.
All his amusement fled, and Alec scrubbed a hand over his chin. “It’s that doctor. Show them.”
Reluctantly, I rolled back my sleeve. Zhen glared at me as if I had done this to myself, but I did not know what Nate did. I could not bring myself to meet his eyes. He had been right that I had been in danger, although if he had stayed, if he had resisted, what would the Recorder-doctor have done? No, this was better.
“She’s staying here,” Alec explained, “where no Recorder-doctor or Elder can override Genet’s orders.”
“But two beds?” Zhen asked.
“Williams,” Alec said.
Nate released a long breath. “So that spacing Recorder can’t get his claws in either of them.”
Understanding washed over me. “Then it is a ruse? Nate is not in trouble?”
“Now I’m in trouble?” Nate growled. “I will be if you don’t explain, Alec. My patience is wearing thin.”
“Archimedes has her under watch for smuggling.”
Nate stared hard at his friend.
“Her?” Zhen exclaimed. “Who’d believe that?”
“What matters is that she’s safe.” Alec motioned to my wrist. “Although I have no doubt that by the time we reach Lunar One and the doctor leaves the ship, you’ll be exonerated, and the rest of us absolved from aiding or abetting.”
“Alec . . .” My apology caught in my throat.
“Don’t fuss about it. The look on your face when Archimedes accused you of being a security risk . . .” Alec grinned but sobered quickly. “Nate, he needs to talk to you. And Zhen, we need to feed her.”
Zhen was already on her way to the door. “Tea and dinner, coming up.”
Nate kissed my forehead. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
They left together, and Alec sat me in the chair beside a workstation.
“You rest. I’ll write up your report. Tell me exactly what Julian Ross confessed.”
So I did not need to admit my deficit after all.
The door was not fully opened when I heard, “Stars above, let me through!”
I turned my back on the posters’ advice for safety and protocol. “Kyleigh?”
“You need permission, ma’am,” Cam said sternly.
“You—you impossible, ridiculous—Move!”
Masculine laughter followed the small figure with short curls, who shoved herself into the room and threw her arms around me, squeezing tightly without bumping my wrist. When she released me, she pulled a wadded tissue from her sleeve, mopped up a tear, and blew her nose.
“Kye,” Cam called. “You dropped your bag.”
“Oh, stars. Would you mind?”
“Not a problem.”
She led me to the table. “You must be sick of packaged fish. Let’s get some real food in you.”
“Zhen was to bring me food this evening,” I said.
“I told her I would. She’s tracking down a red light, since there aren’t filters in this room. You sleep better with those, right?”
I nodded as Cam gave me a faltering smile and handed Kyleigh a bag.
“I’m glad you’re all right, Zeta,” he said. “You’re really good at making people worry, you know that?” I began to stammer an apology, but he interrupted me to say, “Welcome back.”
“I am glad to see that you are still onboard. You are well?” I asked as I settled in a chair.
“Mostly.” He hesitated, then added, “Even though I didn’t like leaving you, Tia was right about me going to that meeting. The Elder on Attlee was insisting that I go back with them. I’m nonessential.”
“That is untrue, Cameron,” I protested.
“No, it is. Captain Genet stretched the truth when he said that Thalassa needs me. I can’t fly anything or shoot straight, like Eric can, and I’m rubbish on comms. Story of my life.”
“Cam,” Kyleigh began.
“No, it’s okay. Taking odd jobs frees up people for the real work.” His thin face creased when he smiled. “But now, I’m on Zeta guard duty, which is arguably the most important job onboard. And I’d better get back out there.”
“Yes, in case that horrid Recorder who tortures people shows up again.” Kyleigh pulled out the chair next to mine and smiled at him. “Thank you, Cam.”
“You’re welcome. I might accidentally let Tia in if she gets off on time.”
“Adrienne Smith had better ease up,” Kyleigh said as the door shut behind him. The bag crinkled when she pulled out the nightshirt Jordan had given me when I was first on Thalassa, a sandwich, a flask, and two blue, ceramic mugs.
“My shirt. I had not anticipated . . . Thank you.”
“Yes, well, we are scrounging up new clothes, too. Not those greys, either.”
“But that Recorder—”
“Can go—” She made a noise like an angry cat. “I didn’t like him to begin with, but this? Here.” Peppermint tea flowed in a fragrant stream into a mug. “Drink. Have a sandwich.”
I took a sip and almost relaxed.
We were finishing when the door opened, and Cam said, “Go on, Tia. It’ll be fine.”
While Kyleigh gestured to the chair opposite hers, I did my best not to react to the change a ten-day and a half had wrought.
I must have failed, for instead of a standard greeting, Tia said, “I suppose I should say it first, so you won’t be shocked or something. I’m”—she shot a glance at Kyleigh, who nodded—“expecting.”
I scrambled internally for the correct thing to say. “I am not surprised.” Kyleigh winced, and I realized I had misspoken. “No one told me. I extrapolated from what several people, yourself included, have said. And your clothes—” I cringed when my conversation with Zhen and Eric came to mind. “I apologize. My words did not emerge the way I intended.”
Tia traced an invisible picture on the table’s smooth surface. “It took me a while to react well, myself.”
“How are you feeling?” I asked.
“Pretty good, though I’m hungry all the time.” She sighed, and we sat in awkward silence until she added, “I’ve mostly been shadowing Officer Smith on comms, though I don’t think I’ve learned much at all.” She rested her arms on the table. “It’s funny, you know. I really had no idea. I just didn’t want to be locked up with Watkins and company.”
“They sound awful,” Kyleigh inserted, and I confirmed her suspicion.
Tia gave an exaggerated shudder. “I wanted to help, to be part of something bigger, but the whole time has been ordinary with spurts of panic. At first I thought I’d like to stand inside a moon, but I’m afraid that image has lost its charm. Eric told us some pretty awful stories yesterday, before he left again.”
Kyleigh stared at the cooling mug in her hands. “I’m glad you stayed here.”
“So am I. But, as awful as Agamemnon was, as terrifying as it was when Thalassa went dark, I’m grateful. Knowing what I do now . . .” Tia touched my left arm, then drew back. “Having met you and the others, having seen what you go through, well, I can’t.”
“Cannot what?” I asked.
Her hand rested on her abdomen. “Gift her. I . . . I just have to figure out what to do.”
“What to do?” Kyleigh repeated. “I thought Eric asked you to contract?”
“What?” I exclaimed, though the pieces clicked into place: his frustration with Cam in the hallway, his concern over Tia’s future, even his blush when she brushed his hair when his arm was broken.
Tia’s eyes flashed. “I’m not taking a pity contract, Kye.”
“It’s not a pity contract,” Kyleigh shot back.
The peppermint tea suddenly tasted sour. I set the cup down.
Tia rubbed her eyes. “Moons above. His parents have been together his whole life. That never happens. But it’s what he wants. He—” A smile brightened her face. “Zeta! Give me your hand.”
Uncertain of why my hand was necessary but willing to offer what little support I could, I complied. She pressed it to her abdomen.
I tried to tug free. I had no desire to touch anyone’s abdomen, but then a faint bump rose and slid to the side. Tia released me, but wonder did not. I stared at my empty palm, as if my hand had something to do with the movement I had felt.
An ache hit my heart. I needed to see, to hold, this little one. Recorders did not have children. The Consortium made certain of that, so even if I remained free, this would never be my future. I exhaled. The Eldest would not excuse my behavior, so at least there was no reason to confess this to Nathaniel.
“I’m not giving her up,” Tia announced. “I’ll quit university. Whatever it takes, I’ll do it—except taking a contract with someone who doesn’t love me.”
“Stars above,” Kyleigh blurted. “Did he really not tell you he’s in love? Of all the idiotic—I’m having a talk with him.”
Tia’s cheeks turned a shade close to fuchsia. “Kye!”
“Well,” she temporized, “he’s still officially training on the shuttle, even if he’s already better than Osmund, so it’ll have to wait.”
“Or you can simply not talk to him.”
Kyleigh leaned back in the chair. “You know who I’d like to not talk to? Julian Ross.”
Even I recognized her diversion, but confronting her would accomplish nothing. I tried another sip of my tea, which was not truly sour after all.
“I don’t blame you.” Tia folded her arms over her belly, as if to shield the tiny one inside.
Kyleigh’s face scrunched. “You know the worst part? Sometimes, I forget. I never really liked Ross, but I never thought he would . . . I don’t know. Be outright evil? And sometimes, when I see him out of the corner of my eye, I see Elliott, and I can’t figure out how I feel about that.”
I could not either, but fatigue settled heavily on me. I drifted while their conversation ebbed and flowed.
“Zeta?” Tia set a hand on my arm. “You need to sleep. We’ve been prattling on for way too long.”
Kyleigh, who had already cleaned off the table, placed the nightshirt in my hands. “Go change. Today was pretty awful, but tomorrow is a blank data cube. Get some sleep. We’ll leave the light on. We’ll tell Zhen to be quiet whenever she gets here.”
They left. I changed and settled on my bed. I fell asleep thinking over love and loss and uncertain futures.