Chapter Nineteen
Riston
Terra-Sol date 3814.257
Byte by byte, Riston relinquished the illusion of privacy, digital though it may have been, that Cira’s partition and Tinker’s hidden network had allowed. Ze had journals, records from training simulations, logs from the coursework ze’d been slowly completing, and notes from all the stowaways who’d used Pax Novis as a gateway to a new life. It’d always been a risk to keep so much, even within the partition’s relative safety, yet ze’d never been able to get rid of it. It was a chronicle of zir existence, and if anything had happened to Riston, it might’ve ended up being some of the only proof ze’d ever lived at all.
Now, that proof was being absorbed by Erryla and passed on to who knew how many others. It’d probably be dissected by computer algorithms and human security officers. Some would probably be used as evidence against zem if ze ever stood trial on Paxis, yet here ze was, watching it get copied, uploaded, and backed up. Willingly.
Then ze found the flood of messages from Tinker.
Riston nearly replied but stopped before zir finger touched the screen. Zir chest tightened. If ze responded, ze’d have to tell them what happened to Shadow. How, though, could ze say that in a message? Then again, how could ze justify keeping it from them now?
“Ask for specifics on what they found.” Erryla’s order wasn’t as sharp as earlier. Riston glanced at her, wondering what had changed, but she was staring steadfastly at the screen. “I need to know what and where. Precisely. I’ll have a team verify and then…” She planted her fists on the console and closed her eyes. “Then I’ll decide what the next step will be.”
“I need to go with your team,” ze said. The captain raised one eyebrow, her expression full of disbelief, and Riston rushed on. “We’ve been living in the maintenance shafts, and I know them better than your crew. I’ll know what’s out of place. Plus, if I’m there, it’ll be easier to convince my friends to come in.” When she still didn’t look convinced, ze offered one more submission. “Put me in chemical restraints. It’s fine. But I have to go with the team.”
It might be my only chance to tell them what happened to Shadow without it being recorded and used against me, he thought. And it might be my only chance to say goodbye.
“I’d like to go, too,” Cira said, implacable as gravity. “I can be there to smooth any…problems.”
“Problems.” The word fell from Erryla’s tongue and smashed on the ground between them.
Riston held zir breath. Even if the captain accepted what they’d said as truth, she didn’t have to let Cira and Riston go anywhere together. Ze still wasn’t sure what Cira could possibly have said to be let into medical in the first place.
To zir surprise, Erryla nodded once, sharply, and said, “Fine. Full chemical restraints and a position monitor on Riston, plus a team to go with you—security, command, and engineering. Ensign, Commander Liddens will oversee this expedition of yours, and I expect you to instantly obey any order he gives you.”
“Yes. Of course,” Cira quickly agreed.
Erryla’s eyebrow twitched, then she looked to Riston. Zir pulse rate jumped. It felt like the air was vibrating in zir lungs. “Anything.”
Ze would do anything to keep his friends, this crew, and Cira—the savior who gave zem the stars for the past three cycles—alive.
Although the chronometer claimed only five minutes had gone by, impatience and fear had made each minute stretch into an hour in Riston’s mind. Ze’d sent a message to Tinker and the others, explaining some of what’d happened, but her reply had been brief. Okay, she’d said. Nothing about this situation was okay, and Cira pacing outside zir cell didn’t make it better.
It wasn’t as if ze’d ever tell her that, though.
Finally, a door elsewhere in medical opened, and new voices drifted in. Riston stopped watching the clock, Cira stopped pacing as ze and Erryla stepped away from the console. Just as Riston cautiously approached the force shield, the rest of the command crew came into view.
Halver Liddens walked in like a soldier, nodding stiffly to Cira as he marched past her on his way toward the captain. Farran didn’t look at Cira at all, but Meida paused long enough to look in Cira’s eyes and touch her shoulder before continuing on. Only Adrienn stopped entirely, watching the others approach the captain yet keeping zirself by Cira’s side. Purposeful gesture or unconscious choice, Riston wondered? Ze hoped it was the former. There wasn’t much Riston could do to help her—ze’d likely only make things worse. She’d need people inside the PSSC on her side when Novis reached Paxis Station.
While Erryla conferred with Halver, Farran, and Meida, Adrienn whispered to Cira. The two conferences were tense, hurried, and hushed, but in very different ways. The four senior officers standing straight, their shoulders back and their gestures sharp despite keeping quiet voices. Adrienn was curved toward Cira and zir gestures, when ze made them at all, were small and quickly terminated. Ze looked like ze was trying to disappear in plain sight. Compared to zem, Cira looked practically calm. Maybe the difference was guilt. Cira had confessed, after all, but Adrienn was still burdened by heavy secrets.
“Doctor Naess, do you have everything you need?”
Adrienn jumped at Erryla’s question, and a second later zir hand dropped to the bag slung over zir shoulder. “Yes, sir.”
As ze walked toward quarantine, Adrienn swallowed hard and ran zir hand over zir brown hair, rubbing the shorn sides of zir head and then pushing the longer top locks out of zir eyes. Not once did ze look at Riston. Only when the active force shield compelled zem to stop did zir hazel eyes finally flick up to meet Riston’s darker gaze. The captain deactivated the barrier and, exhaling heavily, Adrienn stepped into the bay.
Despite their time constraints, Adrienn was a doctor before everything else. Ze touched Riston’s arm and gently guided zem to sit on the closest medbed, verbally activating the platform’s sensors as ze did. The basic sweep only took moments, and then mechanisms were injecting zem with an array of nutritional boosters. Only after Adrienn was satisfied with Riston’s current health did ze start messing with it. Adrienn removed a sealed package from zir bag and opened it to reveal a three-centimeter-wide strip. Chem restraints. They were fabric woven with sensors, circuits, and a thin but unbreakable clasp.
Adrienn grasped the clasp between zir thumb and forefinger and lifted the flexible device out of the package, but then ze stopped. Shoulders tense, ze stared at Riston, zir hazel eyes shimmering with worry and zir expression layering the question ze asked with so much more meaning than anyone else would hear. “Are you sure about this?”
“Yes. I’m the one who suggested it.” Riston felt nothing but gratitude for Adrienn even now. Ze wanted to give Adrienn a hug, to thank zem for the risks ze’d taken and the work ze’d done. All Riston could do was offer a small, tense smile and hope Adrienn understood.
Then Adrienn gestured for Riston to take off zir shirt and Riston’s stomach dropped. Stars. Somehow, ze’d forgotten ze’d have to strip so Adrienn could fit the fabric bands around zir upper arms. Resolutely not looking at Cira, Riston ducked zir head and complied. No matter how many impossible fantasies ze’d had about them one day being together in a room and slowly losing clothing, this situation had never entered zir mind. Ze felt exposed, and ze knew the feeling would only get worse if ze met her eyes right now.
“This can be activated by voice command or remote,” Adrienn warned. “It also has a tamper-initiated switch, so be careful crawling through some of the smaller spaces. If it gets caught on something and pulls, it’ll probably read as an escape attempt. You’ll be dosed with a strong sedative, be out in seconds, and stay out for eight to twelve hours.”
“I understand.” Riston slipped zir shirt back on when Adrienn finished. “Thank you.”
Adrienn’s shoulders relaxed. Outside quarantine, Halver huffed and crossed his arms. “That’s a first. Didn’t think a captive would ever thank us for putting chem restraints on them.”
“Few others would volunteer to wear them, though. And I fully believe you won’t activate them unless you have to,” Riston said as ze stood. “Are we ready to go?”
Halver glanced at the captain, a question in his angled eyes. Only when she nodded did he enter the commands to drop the force shield. Riston heard the faint buzz of the power shutting down, but ze didn’t move until Erryla granted permission. Everyone was stressed and beyond exhausted, and an overreaction now would put zem to sleep for eight to twelve hours.
Riston expected Erryla to brief the group, giving them all instructions that would also, ze was sure, serve as a warning for zirself, but Erryla simply looked over the gathered crew and nodded once. “Be careful, and keep the lines of communication open. I’ll see you soon.”
With one quick, sharp salute, Halver led Riston from the room. Outside medical, several others were waiting. Riston recognized the two senior engineers—First Lieutenants Owin Keenen and Quinley Sly—but there were also four security personnel and one nurse whose names ze couldn’t place. No one introduced them.
The crew fell into line with Halver, and Riston wasn’t surprised to find zirself flanked in front and behind by security. Predictably, the crew also subtly but implacably put themselves between zem and Cira, separating them as much as possible within a group of only ten. Seen in a certain light, this setup might look like an honor escort, but the distance between zem and Cira plus the faint pull of the band around zir arm was a stark reminder of the truth. Still, for the first time, Riston was walking through the main corridors of Pax Novis. Well, not exactly the first time, but the first time ze didn’t have zir head down and wasn’t trying to keep to the edges, focused entirely on disappearing. Now, ze strode through the center of the wide, well-lit corridor surrounded by legitimate crewmembers. Despite the chemical restraints, ze could almost pretend ze was one of them instead of the imprisoned outsider. Almost.
Silence reigned. The crew didn’t talk to one another, not even in hushed murmurs, and Riston didn’t dare speak. The only sounds were arrhythmic footsteps as they walked into an elevator. Zir mind was far less quiet. Everything ze wanted to say to Cira but couldn’t sat heavy on zir tongue and swirled inside zir head, chaotic enough to obliterate the surrounding quiet. The elevator stopped at level four, releasing them onto the deck devoted to power systems and shield generators. This wasn’t their final destination, but it was the fastest way to get to where the others would be waiting for them.
The others. Zir heart pounded and the churning in zir stomach got worse the closer they got to zir friends. Even Cira’s presence faded. Was ze doing the right thing?
It’ll be fine, ze told zirself. The real threat is the saboteur, not the crew. Because Riston truly believed the captain meant her promise of safety for the others. There was a chance this would still end with them all in a Paxis prison or permanent exile, but they’d be alive.
Riston watched Quinley, the engineer at the head of the line, repeatedly check zir handheld screen against the section designations on the doors and hatches the group passed. Was it nervous tension and a desire not to waste time, or unfamiliarity with this level? Ze didn’t think Meida and Erryla would send inexperienced engineers, but ze didn’t like how long it was taking for them to find their way, especially when ze could’ve guided the group exactly where they needed to go. Ze kept zir lips sealed tight. Offering would probably only make things worse.
Thankfully, once they found the right hatch and sealed themselves inside the passageway, the engineers began to move with the surefootedness of familiarity. It was the rest that became overly cautious.
One of the security team kept looking around as though they’d not only never seen this part of the ship but hadn’t even known it was here. Maybe, to someone who lived in the light, open sections of Novis, this very well might feel like being suddenly transported onto another ship. Novis’s main halls were white on white on white, all of it brilliantly lit. It was beautiful curves, gleaming display panels, and small touches designed solely for human comfort. None of that thought had gone into these spaces. The metal had been left its natural shade of dark silver-gray, and lighting was minimal, limited to strips set on either side of the grated walkway and every five meters or so in the walls. Few screens, consoles, or multi-dimensional displays had been installed, and even most of the panels and hatches opened manually and not by computer control. It would be easy, Riston supposed, to believe these sections belonged on a ship centuries older than Novis if someone wasn’t used to the transition that happened beyond certain doors.
Riston was unreasonably pleased that Cira, at least, seemed comfortable here. Then again, she’d always liked knowing everything, investigating it instead of relying on what she was told. It made sense she’d be the same about her home.
“We’re getting close to the section coordinates,” Quinley finally announced, confusion in zir tone. “What in the stars did we come here for?”
“We’re about to find out,” Halver said. The threat of what would happen if they didn’t was left implied, but Riston met Halver’s gaze with as much confidence as ze could possibly fake. And it was absolutely faked, because they were in a section even ze and the stowaways rarely bothered using. Nothing of importance ran through here. What could Tinker have found?
They turned a sharp corner, and Quinley stopped. Halver nearly slammed into zir back. Riston only understood why when ze managed to peer around the bodies ahead. A bank of lights was out, enshrouding a six-meter section in darkness. Quinley murmured nervously, and it was clear ze didn’t want to move forward. A signal from Halver brought two of the security team forward. With a careful reorganization of the line, they took the lead, weapons drawn. Halver was close behind. The rest trailed behind like asteroids in the tail of a massive comet.
Then a shadow shifted and separated from the wall. Riston recognized the shape, but Halver tensed, his hand dropping to the weapon secured at his hip.
“Gently, Tinker,” Riston called, fear shoving the words out. Ze couldn’t watch anyone else die today.
“I’m alone.” Her high voice carried clearly across the space. Riston watched with zir heart in zir throat as she took measured steps away from her hiding place, hands held out, and then ze scanned the shadows and the passage beyond. Nothing moved. Ze’d gotten good at picking out hiding places, and ze didn’t see anywhere Treble or Greenie might be.
“No one here will hurt you,” Cira promises from the back of the group. “It’s good to see you, Tink.”
“You, too, Ensign.” She smiles faintly at Cira, but her eyes quickly shift back to Riston. “Are you okay, Zazi?”
Normally, to ward off the chill of the passages, Tink stayed swaddled in layers of thick fabric, but today she’d stripped most of it and left it in a pile on the floor. She only wore a basic jumpsuit. It was closely fitted, thin enough to fit under a vacuum suit, and the decision was clearly purposeful—she wanted everyone to know she wasn’t carrying anything dangerous.
“I’ve had better days,” ze said as wryly as ze could manage, “but I’m okay.”
“Yeah, I think all of us are in the same place today,” she said, mimicking zir tone. “It’s good to see you, though. I would’ve made it harder for them to find me if you hadn’t been here.”
“Where are the others?” Halver’s voice was even, but there was tension in the line of his broad shoulders.
“They’re nearby. This is more my area of expertise, so I volunteered to meet you here and show you everything.” She cocked her head, her short black hair swinging. “Well, I say ‘volunteered.’ Really, I ran away while they were arguing about it.”
“Tink.” Riston groaned her name before ze could bite it back. Ze wished ze could be surprised. Of course the others had tried to stop her, and of course she’d won the argument, even if she won by simply abandoning Greenie and Treble to carry on the fight alone.
“It’s okay, Zazi.” Tink gave zem a smile that carried too much fear to be reassuring. “I’m small, unarmed, and I have information. That’s always been enough to save me before.”
“You’re so lucky you’re adorable,” Riston muttered.
Only the quick flash of a dimple gave away Tinker’s quickly suppressed smile. The strangled huff from behind zem sounded like Cira stifling a laugh. Halver didn’t catch his laugh as fast, but he covered by turning it into a cough and then clearing his throat. “Where is your information, then, Tink?”
Frowning and suddenly serious, Tink gestured toward a small crawl space. “Should I lead you in, or do you want me to follow?”
Pride rose in Riston’s chest before the implications settled. Ze should’ve understood the instant ze saw the pile of clothes. Tink had perfectly constructed this meeting as a display of non-threatening innocence. It made Riston sick. She was barely two months past her eleventh birthday. She shouldn’t know how to present herself this well to authority. Her brilliance with tech, mechanics, and engineering, was one thing, but most people twice her age never showed this kind of survival instinct. As ze waited for Halver to choose, ze closed zir eyes and hated every experience that had drilled those skills and lessons into her.
“Lead,” Halver said, pausing before adding, “Slowly, though.”
Tink turned, her head tilted down, and gripped a step of the inset ladder, then began ascending. One of the security officers followed. The rest of the cavalcade trailed after, crawling into the narrow passage one by one with Riston trapped firmly in the middle.
Before the hunt had begun, the only time Riston had used this particular crawl space was when ze’d forgotten the ship’s maintenance rotation and had hidden up here for two hours while a team worked below. This shaft was so small that crawling was the only way to travel, but the curved ceiling and walls kept it from feeling suffocating. With eleven people filling the space, the temperature rose noticeably—there was nowhere for the heat of those bodies to go, so it sat heavy against zir skin. Ze’d gotten used to being cold after three cycles. The longer they crawled, the hotter it got and the harder it became to breathe. It felt like the air was thickening, though it might be nerves clogging zir lungs more than air.
Where were they going? They’d searched this section of the ship already and found nothing. This passage was solely a way for crew to get from one maintenance area to another, and a way to connect systems. Then again… Was that it? If one wanted to disrupt a ship in secret, a small connection point might be just the place. Depending, of course, on what in the name of every ship in the fleet the goal of the disruption was.
“There.” Tinker’s voice bounced back, slowing their forward motion and drawing everyone’s attention up. Ahead, Tinker seemed to be pointing to a panel set in the curved wall. She didn’t open it; instead, she moved back and let one of the engineers, Owin, take her place.
“I don’t see…” When Tinker’s arm shifted, clearly directing attention to a specific section, Owin’s murmurings faded. Then he gasped. “Quinley, get up here.”
The second engineer responded immediately, and Riston had to flatten zirself against the wall of the passage to create space for Quinley to pass. Owin’s hand was inside the panel, touching or pointing to something Riston couldn’t see.
Quinley blinked, furrowed zir brow, and leaned closer. “What is that?”
Owin’s responding gesture seemed to say, “Exactly!”
Soon, the two were kneeling in front of the panel with a channel opened to Meida and the three were speaking in half sentences that flew at superluminal speeds and made no sense to Riston. Ze caught phrases—power relay, information conduit, programmed conversion—but they lost meaning in context. It seemed like Tinker was the only person who wasn’t confused.
Halver waited quietly at first, but then he began to shift closer. Tension crept into his posture. His hand clenched. Finally, his patience snapped. “Report, Lieutenants.”
“Sir!” They both jolted and shot each other a speaking glance. Finally, Quinley hesitantly began to speak. “All we have are theories. Given the communication issues and what happened to the other vessels, we believe this device uses the junction as an access point to several systems and is rewriting data as it passes through this data relay channel.”
Owin nodded. “If that’s the case, whoever is controlling this device could trick our computers into believing a lot of things that aren’t actually real.”
“Like creating a response from Paxis even though our messages haven’t left the ship.” Halver squeezed his eyes shut so tight they became nothing but wrinkles. “Not good.”
Riston looked at Tinker, watching her open her mouth and close it without saying anything. Through the open comm line, Meida sounded like she was thinking aloud with the engineers interjecting comments into her stream of consciousness. Tink had something she wanted to interject, too, but she was holding herself back. Caution had been slammed into them both by circumstance and necessity. Now wasn’t the time for it, though.
As soon as Riston caught her attention again, ze nodded, hoping the silent encouragement would push her to speak. When ze glanced back, Cira was there, offering zem the same soundless support. The sight of her was nearly shocking. Here. She was actually here and so much else had been happening ze’d nearly forgotten. Before today, ze hadn’t thought it was possible to forget when Cira was in the same room.
“I think…” Tinker’s soft words fell into a second of silence. Every head turned her direction, but only when she was sure no admonition was coming did she continue. “See, I don’t think you could control or cut off the communications systems from here—not completely. However…” She pointed to one of the panels. “That runs straight from here to engineering.”
“Directly into the core systems,” one of the engineers breathed. “Dammit. This thing is more powerful than I thought. It could rewrite huge sections of system code once it’s active.”
“It’s not active?” Halver glanced between the engineer and the panel. “Then remove it!”
“I want to know exactly how it’s hooked in before I risk taking it out, sir.” Owin cast an uncertain glance at Quinley. “The device’s sophistication hints that it’s capable of more than data restructuring, and just because it’s not actively changing software doesn’t mean it isn’t…”
“Armed?” Quinley suggested when Owin didn’t finish.
“I was trying to avoid that word, but yes. Consider this armed and awaiting a trigger.”
“You think it might be an explosive.” Halver’s question fell flat. Riston tried not to let that image fill zir mind, but it was so easy to picture the expanding ball of flame and force blowing the walls of the ship to bits and sending them out into the black.
The engineers glanced at each other again, then they nodded. Quinley bit zir lip before expelling a burst of air and explaining, “This was designed for a purpose, and people were snuck onto multiple PCCSs in order to install these, so we have to assume two things. One, whatever this accomplishes will be incredibly important to someone in the quadrant, and two, they’re going to do whatever they must to give their work the best chances of success.”
“And if I were the one planning something like this,” Tinker added quietly, “I’d make sure trying to interfere with the device would only set it off sooner.”
“Well…at least we know setting it off would do one thing,” Halver said, exhaustion seeping into his words.
“What’s that?” Quinley didn’t look like ze really wanted to hear the answer. Riston didn’t want to hear it, either, especially since ze thought ze might already know.
Halver sighed. “We’ll finally find out what happened to the other ships.”
Sometimes, being right sucked.
“Hold.” Halver’s sharp command instantly halted the whole line. After tilting his head to listen to something Riston couldn’t hear, Halver signaled to one of the security team. When the officer came closer, Halver whispered, “Someone’s ahead. We’re not in good position to attempt a capture, but if we come out at separate angles, we might be able to cover enough of the tunnel with enough fire to—”
“Wait!” Tink licked her lips and whistled a quick four-note tune.
Halver turned to stare at her, forehead furrowed and lips pursed with anger. His attention snapped back to the main tunnel, though, when a three-note response floated up from below.
Tinker smiled. “I told them not to do this, but apparently I’m not the only one who isn’t listening to orders anymore. It’s safe, Commander. The only people down there are our friends.”
For several seconds, Halver and the nearer security officer had a conversation in glances and gestures. Finally, Halver sighed, rubbed his hand over his face, and turned toward the opening that led down to the main passage. “Back up against the wall, drop anything you’re holding, and keep your hands in plain sight. If I get a whiff of anything I don’t like, I will fire first and sort out what happened later. Are we clear?”
Riston held zir breath and counted to five before the answer finally came up.
“Clear, sir.” Treble’s voice echoed off the walls, the tone too full of strain to sound as musical as Riston was used to hearing. Given the news Riston still had to deliver, that strain was only going to get worse. Ze closed zir eyes and listened to the faint shuffling sounds and soft thuds coming from below. Only once it had been silent for several seconds did Treble call out again. “We’re ready.”
“Let’s hope we are, too,” Halver muttered. Another quick, quiet conference with the security officer had them rearranging their positions. Then, with the officer in front, weapon drawn, they began to leave the cramped confines of the tunnel.
Riston forced zirself to breathe again, but it was hard to keep from hyperventilating. Anxiety had every one of zir nerves frayed and firing, causing zir heart to pound too hard and zir breathing to become too shallow. Everything hinged on the next several minutes, and it would be so easy for things to go wrong. If Halver or the security team felt threatened and overreacted, another one of zir friends could get hurt. Or worse.
“It’ll be okay, Zazi,” Tink whispered, although she didn’t sound as certain as Riston thought she wanted to be. “Treble and Greenie know how to stay safe. They’ll be fine.”
Riston so wished that were true.
When ze reached the edge of the tunnel, ze could finally look down on the scene playing out below. Treble and Greenie had done exactly as Halver requested and pressed themselves flat against the opposite wall, their hands held up in obvious surrender. They’d gone one step further than Halver demanded and stripped down to the same jumpsuit Tink had presented herself in. A few meters away from them was the pile of clothing Tinker had created. It was three times as high now with the addition of two more sets of clothing.
Greenie had his attention locked on Halver and the security officer, but Treble’s dual-colored gaze snapped toward Riston as soon as ze appeared in the passageway’s entrance. Relief filled her face, and her expression got even brighter when ze began to descend and Tinker appeared, too. Riston was glad to turn zir back to her as ze climbed down to the main passage. Looking at her made zem remember all the secrets ze hadn’t told them yet. Time was running out. Soon, probably seconds from now, ze’d have to tell them exactly how ze’d failed.
“How many more of you are there?” Halver asked, frustration in each word.
“This is it. Shadow is number five,” Treble said. “He’s the only one missing.”
Missing. Riston flinched at the word and almost slipped off the final step on the ladder. Oh, how ze wished Shadow was simply missing. Ze took a deep breath when zir feet landed on solid ground, squared zir shoulders, and turned to take responsibility for…well, for everything.
But how could ze tell them? What words could ze possibly use to explain what ze’d found in that tunnel and how agonizing it had been to make the decision to go to medical or how much worse it had been when ze finally learned of Shadow’s fate? Ze faced them head on, forced zirself to meet their gazes, and opened zir mouth. Words wouldn’t come. Zir mind was as empty as the vast space between stars.
“What happened?” Greenie shifted forward, almost like he wanted to walk closer and was barely able to hold himself in place. “Zazi, you look…”
Riston honestly didn’t want to know what ze looked like. Ze cleared zir throat and let zirself drop zir gaze. “I’m sorry. I didn’t get to Shadow in time. I couldn’t…I didn’t save him.”
“No. You— What?” Greenie did take a step forward then. No one stopped him. Halver even stepped aside entirely to leave the space between Riston, Treble, and Greenie empty.
“Where is he now? Did anyone even try to save him?” Grief and accusation wove through Treble’s voice. Riston slumped under the weight of her words.
“The doctor took him into surgery as soon as I brought him into medical, but the injuries…” Zir breath caught. Pressing zir hand over zir mouth was barely enough of a distraction to keep zem from beginning to cry. “Dr. Naess tried. Ze tried, but it was too late.”
“How…” Treble looked at Riston and then past zem, and Riston cringed. Tinker was back there. She’d heard everything. The others hadn’t yelled at or blamed zem yet. Would she be the first? Riston wouldn’t hold that kind of reaction against any of them. Screaming censure at zirself wasn’t punishment enough for what had happened to their friend.
But Tinker didn’t say anything to Riston as she passed zem. Instead, she looked at Halver and, with exquisite politeness, said, “It seems like we should keep moving, sir. Do you mind if I put my layers back on? It’s a little cold in here.”
“I, uh, no. Of course.” Halver cleared his throat, a flush spreading across his beige skin and his gaze shifting uneasily from one person to the next. “You can all put your clothes back on and pick up your gear. Tinker is right. We need to get back to the captain.”
Tinker moved immediately, but the other two only started grabbing belongings and putting themselves back together after Tink touched their arms, nudging them into action.
The trip back to medical gave Riston a new understanding of silence. Had the emptiness of vacuum found its way into the ship? It seemed like the only explanation for the way a lack of sound could press against zir eardrums like screaming. Awareness of zir family around zem—and the distance they were keeping—was worse. Was it only because of their audience or had zir failure completely broken the ties that had bound them all together yesterday?
Maybe. If so, it might be exactly what ze deserved.
Through the halls, into the elevator—a tight fit with thirteen people—and up to deck six. The trip was too short. The silence was never-ending. And then cool fingers brushed zir wrist, capturing zir attention.
“Ris?” Cira’s voice was low and soft, but it still sounded loud after the quiet that preceded it. “You did everything you could. More than anyone could’ve expected.”
And yet look what happened. But she was offering kindness when the others only seemed to be pulling away, and ze wouldn’t—couldn’t—refuse that. Ze especially couldn’t refuse it when she’d managed to get this close despite the watchful eyes of Halver and the other crew. Forcing a fraction of a smile, ze turned zir hand and let zir fingers brush hers, taking comfort in the touch.
When the doors to medical opened, Erryla, Meida, Farran, and Adrienn were there waiting. More of the medical staff had returned, too. Several nurses had been busy working on restocking storage compartments, but everything paused when Riston, Cira, Tink, Treble, and Greenie entered the room.
“Cira,” Meida began before immediately cutting herself off. Riston wondered what else she would’ve said and how what she was holding back now would impact her relationship with Cira. It had seemed like her mothers were beginning to forgive Cira. Was being forced to face the depth of Cira’s disobedience, looking at all five of the stowaways at once, pushing her mothers back into rage and distance?
“They claim this is everyone,” Halver reported even though the command crew must’ve heard everything through the open comm line.
“And, oddly, I’m inclined to believe them,” Erryla said. “On this, at least.”
They conferred about other things until a small voice pulled Riston’s attention away.
“I need to say goodbye, Zazi.”
Riston looked down, surprised to find Tink standing at zir elbow. Ze nearly asked her to repeat herself, but ze’d heard. It was zir own reluctance to do what she was asking that made zem want to pretend otherwise.
“What did she say?” Erryla stepped closer, her eyes narrowed.
“She asked if we… Can we…” Zir throat closed, locking the words away. The others were waiting. They needed zem to speak for them and get them what they needed. No one else could or would do it for them. Ze knew that, but it still took several seconds before ze could force zirself to speak again. “Would it be possible for us to say goodbye to Shadow?”
Someone—Meida, maybe—made a wounded sound. A couple of the nurses shifted uncomfortably and even one of the security officers looked at their feet as though ashamed. Erryla was the only one who continued to hold Riston’s gaze, and even she looked affected.
“Yes.” She cleared her throat, cast a quick look at her daughter, and then she turned. “Follow me.”
Riston let the others go first, but ze also did as instructed and followed the captain around the wall dividing most of the medical bay in half. It was only possible to do because ze didn’t look where ze was going; ze traveled by watching the feet of the person ahead of zem instead. Even when they all stopped, Riston didn’t look up, not ready to face this reality again.
“The barrier isn’t up,” Erryla said, unexpectedly gentle. “You can go in whenever you’re ready.”
Riston looked up enough to nod zir thanks. After that, though, ze didn’t know what to do. Ze was stuck in place, afraid to see proof of Shadow’s fate again. Tinker was the one who moved first, walking slowly but steadily toward the far end of the bay. When Greenie followed, he moved fast, and Riston wasn’t sure if he was trying to catch up with Tink or in a hurry to get this over with. Then Treble was the only one besides Riston lingering at the entrance to quarantine.
“I don’t know if I can do this.” Her whisper was barely louder than a breath; Riston wasn’t sure she’d even meant to speak aloud. Then she blinked and seemed to realize Riston was watching her. She glanced zir way and smiled, so much more pain in the expression than Riston had thought a smile could ever contain. “That was supposed to be me. Probably would’ve been if Cira hadn’t found me when she did. If any one of us was going to die, it should’ve been me.”
“No.” Heart lurching, Riston faced her, grabbing her arm and holding on until she met zir eyes. “Don’t say that. You can’t think like that. We all came from a life that could’ve or should’ve killed us. It’s why any of us are here. But surviving horrible things doesn’t make us due. We don’t owe the galaxy for taking up space as though it’s somehow supposed to belong to someone else, and I don’t ever want to hear you talk like that’s how things work.”
The words spilled out, and ze knew they were true, but ze also knew ze didn’t believe them, not for zirself. Treble, though? Ze absolutely believed this for sweet, strong Treble. She deserved to be here, to take up space and demand the right to create a life for herself that included something beyond sheer survival.
She laughed, the sound thick with impending tears. “I’ll accept that when you do, Zazi.”
“We’ll work on it together.” Ze held out zir hand and was almost able to smile when she slid her fingers through zirs and squeezed.
Then, with forced, far from believable cheer, she said, “It’s not like we’ll have anything else to do in prison, right?”
Riston spluttered and laughed, but in the space of a single breath, zir laughter morphed into chest-constricting sobs. Through blurry eyes, ze saw Treble’s face twist with regret and sorrow, and then she used her grip on zir hand to pull zem into a tight hug. It took several minutes before either of them could let go of the other long enough to walk across the room where Tink and Greenie were waiting. Tink had bent close to where Shadow’s head would be inside the white bag encasing him and was whispering something with intense focus. A meter from the foot of the bed stood Greenie, one arm wrapped around his own stomach and the other hand covering his eyes. For a while, minutes at least, half an hour at most, the four surviving Novis stowaways surrounded the body of their fallen friend, each saying goodbye in their own way.
Tinker straightened when her words ran out, wiping at her face and sniffing loudly. Red rimmed her brown eyes and splotches of color had spread across her beige skin, but there was something strong under her sorrow, a determination that made her pull her shoulders back and stare right into Riston’s eyes.
“We need to find the person who did this.” Tink sucked in a deep breath that shuddered only faintly on the exhale. “We have to, or we have to find a way to help the crew do it. I don’t care which.”
“That’s not exactly our decision,” Riston gently reminded the girl.
“But it is someone’s.” Treble looked over her shoulder, and a change came over her. Maybe Tinker’s determination was contagious, because somehow Treble found the strength to straighten up, clean off her own face, and begin walking toward the door. The rest of them were quick to follow.
They stopped just inside the quarantine bay. Treble took one more step, putting herself slightly in front, and she looked directly at the captain. “Thank you. If there’s anything we can do to help, please let us know. Or would you like us to stay in here?”
The offer to voluntarily remain imprisoned made Meida and Halver blink. She seemed impressed, but he just looked surprised. Cira smiled, relief and pride in her expression. Erryla, as far as Riston could tell, had no reaction at all. The captain studied each of them in turn, her gaze steady and her search thorough. Riston wasn’t sure what she was looking for or what she found, but after a full minute of silent judgment, Erryla delivered her verdict.
“I reserve the right to revoke this privilege at any time, and there will be dozens of rules and restrictions you will have to abide by, but in our current circumstances, help is not something I can afford to turn away.”
“Anything,” Riston said immediately. “Whatever your conditions are, it’s fine, Captain. Please, just tell us what you want us to do.”