Chapter Six

Cira

Terra-Sol date 3814.244

The chime of a ship-wide alert jolted Cira from a fitful sleep.

“This is Captain Antares. All nonessential personnel will meet in the garden today at 1000 hours. See your direct supervisor for any questions.”

Another chime, this one softer, marked the end of the broadcast.

The message had only lasted ten seconds and comprised twenty-three words, but it made her heart race. Or maybe the nightmare she’d been shocked out of was to blame. She hid her face in her pillow and tried to remember what the dream had been about even as she tried to forget it. There’d been an attack, she knew, and blasts had left holes in the hull that sucked half the crew into space. Including Treble, Shadow, Greenie, and Tinker. And Riston.

Cira shuddered and rubbed her flesh hand over her face as she tried to remind her brain PCGC suspected the attacks on Feris and Amitis were digital, not physical. A virus, not missiles or bombs. The reminder didn’t help. Viruses could do a lot of damage in a system as complex and codependent as Novis’s. No one on board was safe until the threat was gone. But her mother’s announcement didn’t give her hope that was what happened. If anything, calling the whole crew together probably meant the situation had become worse. Or more complicated at least. Whatever the truth, she’d hear it for herself soon enough. The meeting was in an hour.

As she got ready, she found herself hoping one of her stowaways had heard the captain’s orders and would find a way to spy on the meeting. What Erryla said would impact them, too, and Cira didn’t know when she’d be able to meet with Riston in person again to share the news.

The elevator was nearly full when she got on half an hour later, and it only became more so as it stopped at almost every deck between twelve and eight. She wasn’t the only one to exhale with relief when they could finally escape the packed transport for the most open space on the ship.

The garden on deck eight had always been Cira’s favorite spot. The roof was even higher here than it was in engineering, but the space rarely gave Cira the same sense of vertigo. The interlocking branches of the massive trees created an artificial roof, and there was too much distracting beauty everywhere else. Flora from six different systems grew in ordered chaos, the air was rich with the scent of flowers, dirt, and fresh oxygen, and a wide path led from each of the three elevators down to the open, sloped amphitheater in the center of the deck. This was the only space on Novis large enough for the entire crew to gather. Between the trunks of the trees that circled the space, rows of smaller bushes spread outward. Even the walls of the deck were covered with trellises holding vines growing multicolored flowers.

On a normal day, Novis’s children would be running across the paths and filling the air with squeals and laughter, but today there was only the consistent shoosh of the elevators releasing more of the crew onto the deck and the buzz of whispered, overlapping conversations as everyone headed straight for the wide steps of the amphitheater as soon as they arrived. Even the kids were quiet today, all of them sticking close to their parents. It was eerie, and the images from Cira’s nightmare were so close. It was frighteningly easy to imagine the vine-covered walls of the garden exploding into the black and dragging them all out to die in vacuum. Her entire family. Gone in a flash and swallowed by silence.

She shivered and tried to clear her mind, but it was hard. Novis had always felt safe, an impenetrable haven from the chaos and constant destruction of the quadrant’s war. But if someone really was targeting Pax ships, then war was closing in on her for the first time in her life. Apparently her subconscious didn’t know how to process that threat except for turning it into nightmares and plaguing her with waking fears.

It took a lot of concentration to keep her internal anxieties from showing, but it was necessary—everyone assumed she had inside information, and if she looked panicked, others would begin to panic, too. It was why she didn’t do more than smile and say a brief hello to anyone she passed as she headed toward the command crew. Cira claimed one of the last empty seats in the center of the room. Erryla nodded to her daughter when their eyes met, but then her attention went back to the conversation she was having with First Lieutenant Farran Badri, Security Chief. Halver, though, strode closer when he spotted her.

“Problems, Ensign?” He crouched and asked the question quietly.

Lying wouldn’t help when Halver’s perceptive eyes were on her, so she shook her head and told some of the truth. “Nightmares.”

His shoulders relaxed a little. “The times are changing a little fast for us all. Keep your chin up, though, Cira. We’ll figure this out.”

She smiled, the expression far more genuine this time, and squeezed his hand before he stood and returned to the center of the circle. His gaze lingered only slightly too long on Yeocin Marlowe who was sitting on the opposite side of the amphitheater; Cira pretended not to notice. So, she realized with a faint flicker of amusement, did Malcolm Marlowe.

A few minutes later, Captain Antares broke off her conversation with Lieutenant Badri and stepped forward. Silence rippled outward until it felt like everyone in the garden was holding their breath waiting for— Cira winced when she realized what she’d been thinking.

It was like everyone in the room was waiting to see if a bomb was about to go off.

“Despite the fact that it was supposed to be an alert for bridge crew only, I’m sure most of you have become aware that two ships—Feris and Amitis—have stopped communicating.” To most of the crew, Erryla probably looked as impassive as Novis itself, but Erryla was Ma to Cira cycles before she was a commanding officer. Cira could spot the tension in the line of her throat and in how she’d locked her hands together behind her back. “Many of you have friends on both ships, and it can’t have gone unnoticed when your messages stopped getting responses. I am officially confirming those rumors. No one has heard from Pax Feris since Terra-Sol date 3814.233, and Pax Amitis since 3814.242.”

Cira pressed her flesh hand against her thigh to keep it from trembling. Across from her, Lieutenant Zafar began crying, hand over her mouth to stifle the sound. Others shifted uneasily, but no one broke the silence.

“Early this morning, we received an update from PSSC Control.” Erryla tapped her wrist cuffs together. After a few swipes, the holo-projectors embedded in the ceiling displayed four reproductions of the official PCGC alert. Another tap of her cuffs, and the holo-controls vanished. The alert projections slowly began rotating. Cira started to read, but her mother’s next words snapped her attention away from the revolving display.

“Pax Feris is no longer simply out of communication. As of yesterday, their status has been officially listed as missing.”

After a sharp, nearly collective gasp of air, the silence shattered. Conversation broke out throughout the crew. Several people shouted questions, shock or anger obvious in their voices even if their words were lost in the chaos. Cira’s own eyes burned as she watched Lieutenant Zafar fold in half, sobbing with her face in her hands. Only then did Cira remember—she had a sister on Pax Feris. She wasn’t the only one. Several of the crew had family on the missing ship.

Erryla held up her hand, and although the reaction wasn’t instantaneous, the crew did quiet. “There is no evidence anything has happened to the ship—no distress calls and no debris. Feris has, however, missed the last two passive check-ins on the relay. It’s assumed Captain Adriano changed course in an attempt to reach port and repair communications, but that is a hypothesis. With one ship missing and another unresponsive, the Council isn’t waiting for a third to call it a pattern.”

“Are we being sent to help them?” someone shouted from the audience.

Despite the flash of displeasure that showed on her face, Erryla shook her head. “Feris’s last known location was somewhere outside the Arae System, headed for Alula, and Amitis still seems to be on a course from Casseta to Draconis. We’re too far from either. Other ships in the fleet will be tasked to investigate.”

Another ripple of distressed whispers spread through the crowd. Although Cira kept her silence, she understood their frustration. The last thing anyone wanted to hear was that this was becoming a pattern. Patterns continued and repeated. If this pattern repeated, it meant more of their friends and families were going to disappear.

“The fleet is on high alert, and as soon as each ship off-loads its current cargo, they are to make their way to Paxis Station until the situation is resolved,” Erryla said.

“Resolved?” someone behind Cira muttered, voice teeming with skepticism. They weren’t the only one.

Lieutenant Badri stepped forward next. “Until we dock at Paxis, check in with your superiors at least twice each day. We will be asking anyone with programming or technological expertise to work extra hours shoring up defenses against a potential virus or digital attack. Report any computer glitch or suspicious behavior. Stay in contact with friends and family on other ships and keep us apprised if anyone stops responding.”

Cira closed her eyes. This time, no one spoke. The only sound Cira could hear was the strained breaths of the crew. The weight of those small noises was even more unbearable than total silence would’ve been. Then Erryla took a breath, preparing to speak again.

“Most importantly, support one another.” Erryla’s voice softened—not a lot, but enough to ease some of the crackling tension in the air. “While someone taking aim at the PSSC isn’t unprecedented, it hasn’t happened while any of us have been alive. This is the first time we are facing a direct threat. Some people will need help coping. Offer it if you can, otherwise, alert a superior. Keeping our family safe is the priority, and safe also means sane. I’ve ordered Lieutenant Commander Dalil-Antares to push us toward our destination as fast as possible, but it’ll be three weeks before we reach Datax and several more until Paxis. Don’t let this situation break our family apart.”

Erryla took a step back, putting herself in line with the rest of the command crew, and her audience took it as a sign to converge. In an instant, most of the crew was on their feet and jogging down the amphitheater’s broad steps toward the center. Everyone else seemed too shocked to move, but even they looked like they were contemplating joining the growing throng.

Before the masses hid him from view, Halver caught Cira’s eye and tilted his head, silently asking if she wanted to talk. She did, but not to him. Shaking her head, she stood and wound through the crowd in search of one face in particular.

Adrienn had stayed to the edge of the amphitheater rather than sitting near the center like she had, and now ze was almost alone—everyone who’d been seated nearby had moved toward the officers fielding questions. Ze was sitting on the highest level of the amphitheater and leaning against the trunk of a tree, head tilted back and eyes closed. Cira almost would’ve believed ze was asleep if not for the constant clenching and unclenching of the muscles in zir jaw.

Making sure her approach made noise—she didn’t want to startle zem—Cira sat down nearby. For several minutes, despite the questions swirling in her head, she didn’t speak. She watched the crew. Over two hundred people lived and served on board Pax Novis. Fifty officers, one hundred sixty-five crew members, and fourteen—soon to be fifteen—children. Nearly all of them were crowded in the central floor of the amphitheater either to ask the command crew questions or to listen to the answers they gave others. The few who weren’t pressed into the ever-tightening knot of humanity were huddled in their own smaller groups, heads tilted together for whispered discussions as their eyes tracked the main assembly. Between them all, fear thrummed in the air like a sonic pulse, and Cira hated it. This feeling had no place on her ship.

“Do you think they’re right and it’s a virus?” Cira asked.

Adrienn’s jaw clenched and held for several seconds before ze said, “I diagnose people, not ships.”

“Unless it’s a person with ship parts.” She looked down at her silver and black hand.

“I do make exceptions.” Adrienn opened one eye and tilted zir head toward her, lips twitching into an attempt at a smile; it faded in the next breath. “This isn’t one of those times.”

“Yes, it is,” Cira countered a little too sharply. “Something like this is too important for you to not have an opinion.”

Head tilting, ze conceded the point, but ze still seemed reluctant to speak. Ze pulled zir knees in and rested zir wrists on top of them. Tapping out a rhythmless beat on zir legs, Adrienn thought in silence for a minute. Cira waited zem out.

“My biggest fear is the virus didn’t come from an external source,” ze finally admitted, the words spoken so quietly Cira had to lean in to hear. “In the worst scenarios I can think of, this will turn out to be either a coup by some group within the PSSC, or…” Ze shrugged helplessly and rubbed a hand over zir trimmed beard. “Out of every Pax citizen in the quadrant, you and I should both know how possible it is that someone snuck onto Feris and Amitis.”

“Possible, but not easy. If someone from the outside is doing this on those ships—” Cira cut herself off and shuddered, her mind spinning. “Think about it, Adrienn. We work hellaciously hard to get our kids on and off the ship. If everything going wrong is because of a saboteur on board, the easiest way for them to get on is to have inside help.”

“Oh, good. A new worst-case scenario,” ze muttered, dropping zir head to zir knees.

Cira’s heart dropped like a stone. She hadn’t even realized what she was implicating when she spoke. Her voice was filled with horror. “But why would any Pax citizen do that?”

“Why does anyone do anything?” Adrienn turned zir head to look at Cira, zir expression bleak and zir skin alarmingly white. “Maybe they got bought or threatened or converted. Maybe they were lied to and believed they were doing something to help the PSSC. I don’t know.”

Cira didn’t want to believe any Pax citizen would put their entire society at risk for some kind of personal gain, but history lessons had taught her not to underestimate the depths humanity could sink to. And, if she was being honest, wasn’t she doing the same thing in a way? Helping Riston and the other children escape their homes would’ve been trouble enough. Allowing them to stay had been a different kind of risk, one she hadn’t regretted until now.

Turning fully toward her friend, she tilted her head so her hair hid her face from the crew. “I told everyone to stay well out of sight, but with this level of panic, I’m worried, Adrienn.”

“Me, too.” Zir lip ring twitched like ze was wiggling it with zir tongue. Then, ze sighed. “We’ll be at Datax Station in a couple weeks. Let’s see how that goes, and we’ll make a decision on the way to Paxis. Honestly, I’m hoping this mess gets cleared up before then.”

Because then we won’t have to make them leave the ship. Cira hated herself for the thought, but that seemed to be what it was coming down to.

Halver had been right—times were changing. The patterns of war were shifting. What was once an acceptable risk was quickly becoming untenable. Unless PCGC sent out a report explaining how the problems with Feris and Amitis really were major communications glitches and nothing more, Cira might have to make Riston’s little family leave. No matter how much she wanted to help them, her family and Pax Novis came first. They had to.

Cira didn’t have anything else.