Trina slipped back through the panel in Grandfather’s bedroom after making sure he hadn’t followed her. His apartment stretched so far along the wall that she’d seen markings for five different panels, but this one seemed the least likely to have people inside.
The plans turned over in her mind. She understood the meeting would be in that room and no other. Trina wondered if they’d chosen the room because it had no connection to the tunnels. If Grandfather knew about the ducts, why wouldn’t the other families?
She paused as the panel snapped back into place, listening. Spacerat. That’s what she’d become. Creeping around between the walls, sneaking pretty baubles.
Trina grinned. Only now, she put the shiny things in place. She tapped the pocket containing the necklace and trotted along the duct, listening for any robots, or other rats who took upright form. Two cross tunnels passed before she turned and made her way up the ladder to the final junction, seeing no need to delay her task.
Farnwark sat two sections above and the room she needed was on Level B. Trina counted off the openings as she passed them, hanging from a bent elbow every couple of levels to rest. Her panting breaths echoed down the crawlspace and would have revealed her, but she’d yet to see another human and the robots only cared about keeping the way clear.
Katie had asked about the tunic she’d hidden in the crane, but Trina pretended she’d left it behind for Piper. Just one more lie. Trina longed for the time when she’d be free of secrets, free to act like any other colonist and make friends while assembling the kits they’d need on the new planet as Katie had.
She couldn’t talk about what she did with Katie or anyone. Trina hadn’t realized just how much of a difference being able to discuss her marks with Katie and Piper had made even if she had to keep the details private. Now, she could only talk to deep space, but it never answered.
Her breathing even, she climbed the last half level and checked the illuminated markings to confirm she’d reached Colony Section One, Level B. She swung over to the platform, wondering if robots used the ladders or if they were meant for taller humans. Her agility allowed her to reach the platform from the ladder where another of her size might have failed.
Trina felt tension creep up her back, starting at her hips and gathering in the base of her neck. Adrenaline flooded her and her heart pounded louder than before. She listened for any sound and moved forward when she heard none over those from her body. She reached the first panel easily, pressing her ear to it by instinct. No sound carried through the thick metal. Could she do it? Could she risk everything for Grandfather? He’d offered her no guarantees.
She stared at the device, her finger hovering over the green button. The light leaking out around the panel illuminated other buttons. One glowed a faint yellow, just like the talk button on the door. She’d been so careful to avoid the rest of the buttons because she didn’t know what they could do, but what could be worse than opening a panel into an occupied room? Holding her breath, she pressed the yellow button, blood pounding in her ears.
Voices filtered through, startling her enough to fumble the device. Hands shaking, she pressed the yellow again and tucked the device in her pocket. So close. She’d almost lost everything.
But she hadn’t. Her confidence reasserted itself as she realized she’d proved herself capable even in this alien environment. Concentrating, she thought through her three other possible routes.
On this floor, no cabin had more than one entry and most led to the public rooms. She just had to find an unused space. It seemed simple enough, but Trina knew these things rarely were.
She listened a little longer at the second panel to make sure, but though she could hear voices in the far distance, none sounded nearby. Wiping nervous sweat from her forehead with her sleeve, Trina triggered the panel. It swung open slowly enough for her view of the room to grow in bits and pieces as the metal moved toward the floor of the tunnel. She could see a series of tables and chairs but no people. Her heart leapt into her throat as a flash of colorful fabric appeared but she released her breath when it turned out to be a coat left on the back of a chair. The room was empty.
She slipped through, fingering the blue coat as she passed. Fine fabric the owner would miss soon enough. She pulled her hand back before the coat graced her shoulders. Trina needed to concentrate. Though thievery might sow confusion for a little while, it would make her obvious, something neither she nor her grandfather wanted.
Sauntering up to the door, she stopped, surprised to find it closed. Without thinking, her hand slipped to the panel device, the green button sinking as she pressed it. Trina laughed, but even as she glanced around to find a button panel, the door slid open. She ducked back, expecting someone to enter, but no one did. The device must open doors as well, making it easy for the crew—and her—to pass anywhere.
Trina stepped into the corridor, hoped anyone watching would dismiss her as a polit child. She paused for a heartbeat when she entered the open area, the space almost as large as the cargo section she’d made her special spot. Despite Katie’s efforts, she’d avoided their common area.
The ceiling rose two levels, with balconies looking out over the open area from the Level A rooms. Trina let her gaze wander until she noticed several people sitting at tables in the open space. They faced a woman dressed in teacher garb, possibly a training session. Katie had wanted her to come to one, but Trina still stayed away. The desire to join them, to learn something useful to their new life, threatened to overwhelm her. She forced herself to turn away and entered the short corridor on her left. Trina walked past two doorways, checking for watchers before moving back to the second.
A closed door faced her. She’d hoped it would be open so she wouldn’t have to chance leaving her palm print, if a Farnwark door would even open to a Menthak. She reached up, her hand shaking, then pulled back at the last moment. The panel tool. It should open the door and leave no trace.
Taking another quick look, Trina pulled out the device and pointed it at the palm scanner. She pressed the green button while praying under her breath. Each beat of her heart counted off the seconds as the door stayed closed.
Trina stared, unsure what to do now. She couldn’t place the necklace without getting in. They must have a way to check the palm prints and would when they found the jewels. She couldn’t fail on her first task.
Looking back, Trina willed the door to open. Nothing happened. “One more try,” she muttered under her breath, bringing the tool up again. This time she held it longer, taking the chance of someone noticing both the device and her odd behavior. It had to open.
A high-pitched sound emanated from the door, making Trina clench her teeth, but the door finally slid open so she could enter. It closed quietly behind her, trapping Trina where she had no excuse to be. Chills traveled up her back and her nerves tightened.
She ran across the room. Acting like she belonged wouldn’t serve her if they found her here. She pulled the necklace free, all the time driven faster by her surging blood and pounding heart.
Grandfather’s directions seemed sound. She used the edge of her shirt to pull the necklace free. Spacers had tech well beyond Ceric. She wouldn’t be surprised if they could trace the sweat on her palms. She jammed the jewelry between two books with just enough dangling to twinkle in the light.
Trina crossed to the opposite side of the table and crouched down to the height of a seated adult though her blood pounded out a warning to run. Her efforts would be wasted if it didn’t work.
Relief rushed through her as the red gems sparkled in the lit room. She triggered the door and stepped through, remembering the sound sensor too late. Holding her breath, Trina pressed against the wall in an attempt to stay hidden. No shout or comment reached her as the door closed behind her.
Almost safe, Trina thought, turning toward the room she’d used to come in.
A young woman appeared around the corner. Trina switched directions in what she hoped looked like a smooth movement. She wondered if the woman could hear her rapid pulse.
Her alternate route was only three doors down, but a group had occupied the space when she’d checked before. She paced to the door, trying her best to look like she had business down there. The door gaped open. Trina stepped into the entryway, hiding her from anyone in the corridor while not thrusting her into the room blindly. She peered around the door, relieved to find the space empty.
Trina wondered if she should shut the door, but worried they had it keyed and she’d trigger an alarm. Somehow, the excitement and rush she’d experienced in the known territories of First City hadn’t translated to the ship. Instead, she felt as jumpy as the first time she’d entered a polit’s house.
Trina checked the room to make sure the panel wasn’t blocked. Even as she pulled the device out of her pocket, her gaze fell on a scrap of black fur in the corner. She thought it was an animal hiding and moved forward cautiously, wondering whether it would attack when the panel lowered. She hadn’t thought any animals were allowed unfrozen, but if a polit brought the creature, rules could be bent.
The animal didn’t move or even react to her presence as she inched forward. She checked the room again to make sure the pet’s owner wasn’t sitting out of view then looked at the creature, waiting for it to react. Though nobody else shared the room, a pile of bright clothes lay scattered over one of the tables. Another creature draped across the top of the bundle, a posture that made no sense.
A laugh escaped her as she crossed the room to pick up the black wig. She walked over to the pile, looking at the other costumes with interest. Apparently, Menthak wasn’t the only family to celebrate the start of their journey with a pageant.
Trina tucked the wig over her head. She pranced around, relief making her giddy now that the animal threat had vanished.
A noise in the corridor sobered her, reminding Trina why she’d come to be here and the cost if she were discovered. She pressed the button on her device, still clutched in one hand, and vaulted into the opening before the panel reached the bottom of its swing. She jerked her foot over the edge, rolling as she smacked into the duct floor, her finger already pressed to the blue button to close it.
She huddled where she fell as she tried to calm down. Finally triggering the listening function, Trina heard only normal conversation. They hadn’t noticed the panel closing as they entered.
She smiled and reached for the button to turn off the sound.
“Get the costumes. We’re going to practice the first play again.”
“Got them. Have you seen the other wig?”
Trina pressed a hand to the false hair still covering her own. She’d forgotten to throw it down in her effort to escape. After avoiding the temptation, now she’d stolen by accident.
“It must still be out there somewhere. We keep losing the costumes.”
She heard a laugh.
“The kids love to play around with the pieces. We can do without. Let them have some fun. It’s so hard on them. I mean, will they even remember the sun when we finally get there?”
Trina turned off the listening device, slumping against the wall. Children had saved her. It didn’t even sound like they’d go looking very far. The wig slid down over her face, dangling from one comb still caught in her hair.
She pulled it off, running her fingers through the strands. They might be leaving. Should she wait and drop the wig back? The strands tangled around her fingers as if not wanting to return.
Trina shrugged and pushed herself upright. They’d already come up with an explanation. Why confuse things? She headed back to the Menthak section, satisfied she’d successfully completed her task even with the barriers in her way.
She did wonder if the Farnwark speakers were right though. Maybe Katie wouldn’t be the only one flinching at the sky. Two years was a long time without seeing the sun.