Instead of searching the lower deck for Ben, as the captain ordered, Alek inched along the habitation hallway. As he did, he listened for footsteps, either the captain's or Severn's. At the third door on his left, he stopped. Glancing both ways, he made sure he was alone. Then he jimmied the door with the thin piece of magnetize flexiplex he'd brought on board. A twitter coursed through his stomach as he realized there was no way to hide what he'd done if his suspicions turned out to be baseless.
Entering Severn's dark room, the sparseness surprised Alek. His own digs were spartan, but that's because he'd fled the Haggishi cartel with his life, a bum knee, and little else. He'd always presumed Severn was more high maintenance.
Because that's how he wanted to appear. Alek hated being played, and he'd most definitely been played, as had everyone on the ship. But Severn had also come onto the Lyra with more luggage than Alek. If it wasn't stuff to make himself at home, what was in there?
He searched all the usual places for some hidden item that might reveal Severn's true identity, or who had sent him. He peered into the small cupboard behind the mirror set in the wall. He flicked on the tablet sitting on the tiny desk that folded down beside the bed. His eyebrows tugged together in surprise on finding it had no security — no passcode, no retina scan, no request to swipe his wrist patch. It didn't take him long to realize that was because there was nothing on it. An unusual amount of nothing, unless the two ancient Cygnian space operas were some massive cipher. But they looked legit to Alek, and he'd been exposed to more than his fair share of culture.
He lifted the mattress on the pristinely made bed...it was like the man didn't sleep. There was nothing but an extra pair of shoes and the two travel cases. Alek opened them both. Again, no security. In the first one, he found only T-shirts, underwear and a picture of some man in a hideous frame. The face was vaguely familiar, and for a second, Alek thought the man might be Severn's father, but he bore little resemblance. Though that wasn't much of an indication of biological kinship with all the mods available these days. In the second case were pants and a flight jacket, as well as a perfectly legal blaster. Nothing else.
Alek squatted back and rubbed his face, trying to think of other places he'd hide nefarious orders or a secret comms unit. Light glinted off the frame, and he picked it up again, moving it back and forth. The image inside moved, and Alek startled, dropping his free hand behind him to keep himself upright. Hitting something soft, he glanced down; his hand had landed in Severn's box full of clothes. Looking back at the image, he realized it was a vid on a loop, not a live display. The man smiled at the camera, and his blue eyes lit up. Aqua eyes, with a touch of green Severn's lacked. A wave of nausea ripple through Alek as he realized where he'd seen eyes that shade before. It was such a rare colour. Like Ben's.
He didn't want to believe it, and turned the image over, hunting for some other explanation but half expecting a super-miniature subspace comms unit on the back. Then his forehead furrowed and his head tipped sideways as he looked at his other arm. The one buried wrist deep in the crate, palm resting on the bottom yet inches from floor level.
"What are you doing?"
Alek spun around in his crouch to face the door, wishing he'd thought to pick up Severn's blaster. But seeing the captain, he forced his face to neutral as he tried to come up with a believable story. "Captain."
"I asked you a question." Rebeka peered down her nose at him, her jaw set and hands on her hips. "Why are you in Severn's quarters when you should be below looking for Ben?"
Alek took a deep breath, then realized there was nothing he could do but tell the truth. Or at least part of it. "I've suspected for a while that we have a saboteur."
She gave him a hard stare then nodded crisply, as if she'd thought the same, but stayed silent and waited for him to continue.
"And I think it's Severn." He handed Rebeka the picture.
She arched an eyebrow. "I know you don't like him, but sabotage?"
He shrugged. "It's either him or me." He nodded at the picture in her hands. "Who does it remind you of?"
Her eyes narrowed, then she turned her attention to the picture. She stared at it for a second before her lips rounded and her eyes widened. "Ben." Her eyes flashed to Alek, her voice hard. "Is this the boy's father?"
He held up his hands. "I don't know. I found it in Severn's case." He tipped his head towards the small, open crate.
"How do I know it's not yours?" she asked.
"Do you agree this is his luggage?" He waved a hand at the case.
She glanced at it then nodded.
"Take a close look at it." His stomach flipped and his hand dropped to the floor as it suddenly felt like the ship was moving through syrup. The expression on Rebeka's face told him she felt it too.
"What's that?" she asked, her eyebrows pulling together.
"I was hoping you could tell me." The ship returned to normal, the sick feeling in his stomach passing. When she shook her head, he continued, "So back to this then." He waved his hand at the luggage in question.
"It looks like a case."
He shrugged. "You might need to get nearer to it. Pay special attention to its dimensions. Outside versus in."
Cautiously, Rebeka knelt by the case, pushing her hand through the man's underwear. "A false bottom." Her eyes flicked to meet his. "Have you opened it?"
He shook his head. "I just realized it was there when you stopped by."
"You make it sound like a social call." The captain started throwing Severn's clothes on the floor. "Do you have your combat knife?" He hesitated as he debated how to respond, since he knew his knife would reveal a glimpse of his secrets: only soldiers in the King's Guard, the Aspidas, had combat knives with the royal crest. Rebeka lifted her eyes up to peg him with a hard stare. "Don't try to bullshit me. I know you have one, and if you're the type of person I think you are, you have it on you. I promise to give it back."
"I don't..." he started, then stopped. He pulled it out and handed it over. To his surprise, her gaze barely paused at the insignia on the hilt. Instead, she unsheathed it and used it to pry out the false bottom.
She whistled. Even though he couldn't see into the depths of the crate, he was pretty sure his suspicions were correct by the way her eyes narrowed and her jaw clenched.
"A personal comms unit. Ansible enabled."
"That's an expensive piece of tech."
"Beyond even an Aspidan's pay?" Rebeka cocked an eyebrow even as she stared at the offending equipment. She yanked it out with a hard tug and threw it against the wall, breaking it into pieces. Standing up, she turned her fiery eyes to him, clenching his knife in her hand. "I'm going to kill him."
"Um, maybe not with my knife." He nodded at her hand. She looked down, flipped the hilt towards him and handed it back.
"No, that would be too easy given what he's done to my crew."