48.0

Midshipman six dash eight five five two MacLeod, Ravinder T.,” Vasconcelos intoned formally. “You are being held on suspicion of offenses committed pursuant to Ship’s Regs twenty-two dash zero one and dash zero seven, namely, the detonation of an explosive device on Haiphong Circular, the attempted detonation of an explosive device somewhere at or near the aft of the ISV-one Archimedes, and conspiracy to commit the aforesaid offenses. Do you understand the nature of the accusations?”

Ravi had known it would happen, but it was still a shock to find himself in the brig. He nodded dumbly. After two whole sols of staring at a cell wall, at least the interrogation room was a change of scenery.

“I need an audible yes or no for the recording, Midshipman.”

“Yes.”

“The first thing I’d like to know is: who helped you plant the bomb on Haiphong Circular?”

“The boy isn’t answering questions about that,” Chen Lai said gruffly.

Vasconcelos subjected the engineer to an icy stare.

“As his commanding officer, you have the right to observe only. You do not have the right to interfere with my questioning.”

“Then why don’t you ask him questions about the bomb that hasn’t gone off?” Chen Lai snapped. “Haiphong can wait.” The engineer turned his attention to Ravi. “We want to know—if you know—where the bomb in the engine rooms is located.”

Ravi knew he was gaping at them like an idiot, but he couldn’t help himself.

“This bomb you told me about,” Vasconcelos said. “No one can find it.”

“I’ve had teams go over the engine rooms from top to bottom,” Chen Lai explained. “They found nothing. What makes you so sure there’s something there?”

Ravi’s first reaction to what they were telling him was one of relief. Thank Archie he’d been wrong.

Except he wasn’t.

“Like I said before, sir. It’s the Bohr. What happened to her is going to happen to us—and Chandra—on Braking Day. The moment we fire up the drive, the whole thing will seize up and we’ll overshoot the Destination Star with no way back.”

“But you don’t know where it is?” Chen Lai pressed.

“No, sir.”

“Or what it looks like?”

“No, sir.”

“Then tell me this,” asked Vasconcelos, clearly annoyed at being upstaged in his own interrogation room. “How do you know what happened on the Bohr wasn’t an accident?”

“When Bohr lost control of her drive, Isaac—Newton’s LOKI—ran an analysis. He concluded that there’d been a failure of a Q-series sub-coil. A peripheral one. Had it been closer to the engine core—”

“The drive would have detonated,” Chen Lai concluded. “There’d have been no time for an emergency shutdown.” The engineer pursed his lips. “And given that Q-series sub-coils are almost bombproof, you think someone on Bohr used an actual bomb, a bomb triggered by the activation of the drive, to take one out?”

“Yes, sir. And that whoever planted a bomb on Bohr would have done the same to Archie and Chandra.”

“This is a farce,” Vasconcelos snarled at Chen Lai. “Your trainee plants a real bomb, which you don’t want me asking questions about, but you do want to ask questions about a fantasy bomb that doesn’t sarding exist. And we know it doesn’t sarding exist, because your best people, despite going over the engine rooms for two sols solid, have found nothing. And the folks on Chandra say the same. The kid’s got you on a tachyon hunt.”

“I’m certain they’re there, sir,” Ravi said to Chen Lai. “And you need to find them before Braking Day.”

“Oh, he’ll need to find it a lot sooner than that, Middy,” said Vasconcelos.

“Sir?”

“A lot’s happened since you’ve been in here,” Chen Lai sighed. He rubbed his nose between thumb and forefinger, and Ravi suddenly understood that the erect figure seated in front of him was under an incredible amount of stress. “The captains have hammered out peace of a sort with Newton. It’ll hold for now—or at least for so long as we all have LOKI weapons systems stuck to our respective asses. So, we have you and your friends to thank for that, I guess.

“We also negotiated an evacuation plan for the Bohr. Newton has agreed to take a third of the crew.” The old man smiled wryly at the expression on Ravi’s face. “Not entirely by choice, I might add. The LOKIs did a bit of prodding in that regard. Newton has a lot of free space, apparently. And they also have some kind of cap they can surgically attach to our people. It’ll cut them off from any kind of hive but also stop them hacking Newton’s systems and overrunning the ship.” Chen Lai looked almost amused. “You and your cousin made quite an impression on our new friends. None of it good.”

Ravi recalled Newton’s brig and the crude cap affixed to Lisette’s head. He suppressed a shiver. Sounded like they’d refined the design from an instrument of torture to a coms blocker. At least, he hoped they’d refined the design. There’d be a revolt otherwise.

Aloud, he said, “Seems like Newton’s putting a lot of trust in its tech. I’m not sure I’d do the same in their place.”

“The LOKIs also explained that they would blow Archie and Chandra to quarks if anything ‘untoward’ happened on Newton,” Vasconcelos cut in, sardonically. “So, there’s that.”

“Indeed,” Chen Lai agreed. “The remainder of Bohr’s complement is coming to Archimedes and Chandrasekhar. While we could use the lifeboats, it makes more sense logistically to bring the ISVs alongside each other. We can toss a bunch of umbilicals over and do hub-to-hub transfers instead.”

“But that means firing up the drives,” Ravi objected.

“Exactly.”

“But you can’t! We’ll end up like Bohr!” Ravi made to jump to his feet, but the heavy hand of a ShipSec guard forced him back down.

“Decision’s already made,” Vasconcelos said. “We start moving in about eight hours. That’s how long it will take to finish prepping enough living space for axial gravity and to lock up the wheels.”

“I’ll keep looking,” Chen Lai promised. “There’s nothing more you can help me with?”

Ravi shook his head. His stomach, which knew he was lying, tied itself in knots.

Much to his surprise—and quite possibly at Chen Lai’s insistence—it seemed he was now allowed visitors. Boz and Lisette, accompanied by none other than Vladimir Ansimov, wasted no time in taking advantage of the opportunity.

“They treating you okay?” Ansimov asked, striding into the visiting room. Boz and Lisette looked tiny and insubstantial in his wake. He grabbed the nearest seat without waiting for an answer and sat down at the compartment’s one battered table, directly across from Ravi. “The bastard officers won’t tell us what’s going on. Word on the circular is that you and your cousin here either saved the fleet from being blown to quarks, or that you almost got us killed. Word is you’re also a BonVoy and you blew up the Haiphong Circular. All Chen Lai will say is that your status is ‘under review.’ ” A grimace. “Plus, with you gone, I have to tag along with Thurman and Roe, both of whom are Class A gullgropers.”

Ravi stifled a smile.

“Sorry about that. I’d be there if I could.” He paused momentarily, considering Ansimov’s question. “They’re treating me okay, I guess. All things considered.” He turned his attention to Boz and Lisette. “How are you two doing?”

It turned out that, unlike Ravi, whose revelation about the drive had merely reinforced the general belief that he was the Haiphong bomber, Boz and Lisette had been accorded a curious “guest” status aboard Archimedes. Neither side was grateful for a truce imposed by traitors. Neither side appreciated having to live with Newton’s suddenly independent weapons systems. Many believed that traitors should get what they deserved.

And yet.

Lives had been saved. No one in the fleet seriously believed they would have won the sol if the dragons had pressed home their attack. And the dragons themselves had made it clear that they would take a dim view of either the fleet or Newton “disassembling” their late sibling’s “cargo.” According to Lisette, Vasconcelos, in the bitter aftermath of the negotiations, had summed it up best.

“Can’t live with you; can’t flush you out the airlock.”

Pending some sort of final resolution, the powers that be had assigned Boz and Lisette high-end quarters in Bermuda. It was, Boz said, “a taste of how the other five percent live.” They were allowed to leave for short amounts of time, but there was always a ShipSec detail at the door, and they went nowhere without an escort. Theirs was a luxurious prison but a prison nonetheless.

Ravi would have given his motherboard to swap places.

No doubt thanks to Chen Lai, they had the brig’s visiting room to themselves, without the usual “MacLeod drone” to eavesdrop on the conversation. Eager to abuse the privilege, Boz leaned back in her chair, pulled a cigarette and lighter from the depths of her so-called leather jacket, and lit up. The electric-blue arc of the lighter’s ignition sparked its usual mix of ash and smoke.

“What the sard do you think you’re doing?” Ravi asked, scandalized. He turned toward the door, expecting to hear the heavy thud of approaching boots. “You’re in the sarding brig, for Archie’s sake! You want to end up staying here?”

Boz just laughed.

“One of these sols, they’re either going to mulch us or let us go. Until they decide, I’m pretty much untouchable. They really, really want us to keep quiet, so if this helps . . .” She took a long drag on her contraband. Thoughtful eyes stared at him through the smoke.

“No one can find this bomb of yours, cuz. Do you think that maybe this is just your imagination getting the better of you? Again, I mean.” She glanced sideways at Lisette. “We both know you sometimes see things that aren’t really there.”

“I didn’t drop an imaginary bomb into his implants,” Lisette protested. “If Ravi says there’s a bomb in the engine rooms, then there’s a bomb in the engine rooms.”

“Except there isn’t,” Ansimov said flatly. He leaned forward in his chair. “I’m telling you, amiko, we’ve been over every bescumbered square centimeter of that place. There ain’t nothing there. Sarding Chen Lai even had us strip out the bulkheads.” Powerful knuckles rapped on the table. “Unless this bomb of yours is somehow disguised as poly-armor plating, it simply don’t exist.”

“But it does!”

He stood up in agitation. Started pacing about the room.

A voice erupted from the walls.

“Siddown, MacLeod. You know the rules.”

Ravi flopped gracelessly back into his seat.

“I’ve got to get out of here,” he muttered. “Like right now.”

“Not going to happen,” Boz said sadly. “Not with this Haiphong thing still hanging over your head. Even if you weren’t a MacLeod, that’s enough for Vasconcelos to keep you tied up in here for a long time. Your parentage is just free water for the shower.”

Ravi’s mind was racing. Unable to stand, one leg pumped uselessly against the deck. He was running out of time. He couldn’t do anything, sitting around the brig like a bag of spares. Unless . . .

He turned to Ansimov.

“Do you think you can persuade Sofia to come see me?”

“Sofia Ibori?” Ansimov looked doubtful. “I know she kinda likes you, Rav, but an Ibori? In here? Her great-uncle would sooner drive us into the Destination Star.”

“Sofia has a mind of her own. She’ll come if she wants to, whatever her uncle says.”

“Well, then, Vladimir,” Boz said, casting a mischievous glance in Ansimov’s direction. “Do you think you can persuade Midshipman Ibori to grace the brig with her presence, or is a hoity-toity navigator too out of your league?”

Ansimov let the silence hang there a moment. A slow, calculating grin spread across his face.

“If I do, MacLeods and Newton lady, you all owe me big-time.”