Caleb returned to the other lab. Edie was interested in analyzing how the children handled the error logs, but apparently level-two clearance wasn’t sufficient for that. Instead she was stuck with data that was ten months out of date and really didn’t tell her anything. As she filed through it, her gaze wandered around the lab. Racks of biocyph modules lined the bulkheads. She knew from the CCU seal on each unit that this was stock biocyph, not yet primed. It was almost too much to believe—each module was worth more than she could earn in a lifetime, and there were dozens of them.
She had to check for herself. Casually, she got up from her console and wandered over to the nearest rack. The other tecks were too engrossed in their work to notice her. She pressed her fingertips to the port on one module and heard the tuneless buzz of stock biocyph, just as she’d guessed. What the Fringe worlds wouldn’t give for these resources! They relied on preprogrammed biocyph handouts from the Crib, because only the Crib had the templates to construct stock biocyph like this. It could be turned into ag-teck or med-teck or environmental jigglers, even used to repair BRAT seeds.
Could she steal the modules for the Fringe? Her mind spun in a new direction. If she had free access to the modules, what could she create? The possibilities seemed limitless and the temptation to meddle was overwhelming. Could she use the cryptoglyph from Scarabaeus to program the biocyph? Right under the Crib’s nose…
But she didn’t have free access to the modules. She could do nothing with them during work hours because other tecks would always be around. And if she used her crew key to enter the lab outside her shift, the entry would be logged as a security breach and she’d be found out immediately.
One of the cyphertecks gave her a suspicious look. Fortunately she’d already drawn her hand away from the port. She moved back to her console and pretended to be engrossed in Caleb’s useless data.
When Edie was summoned to the conference room on Deck A that afternoon, foremost on her mind was confronting Natesa about the children. Righteous indignation had helped her develop an outraged speech, and she was intent on delivering it. Instead, she walked onto a battlefield where Natesa and Theron were engaged in combat, and her personal objections were irrelevant.
Natesa stood at the head of a long table, her mood black as the Reach. Theron sat stiffly at the other end, as far from her as possible. Clearly they’d been at it for a while, so wrapped up in the conflict that neither acknowledged Edie when
Natesa’s assistant showed her in. Between them sat a thin man with captain’s stripes on his uniform. Edie remembered the kitchenhand had called him Captain Lachesis. He wore a slightly apologetic look, as if embarrassed by the display of emotion going on before him.
“This isn’t a case of martial law,” Natesa was saying. “There’s no war going on here. Edie works for CCU, and you simply don’t have the authority to reassign her to your team.”
“Yet
you
had Caleb Chessell reassigned from my team to yours last year.”
“Ardra requires the best cyphertecks in the Crib and the project is important enough to demand them. Your pet project with its senile BRATs can hardly compare.”
“You’re delaying the inevitable, Ms Natesa,” Theron shot back. “I
will
get the permission I need—it’s only a matter of time. I don’t believe you have as many friends in the Crib as you think, especially not while Prisca flounders.”
“Prisca is not floundering. Everything is going as expected.”
“That’s not what I hear.”
“Who have you been talking to? Read my official updates. CCU is perfectly happy with the way things are going.”
“Pardon me for not quite believing your
official
updates.”
“This is ridiculous. Prisca has been online for less than a year, and you’re judging the entire project on the basis of a few wild rumors. There are people who want to see me fail. That’s no secret.” Natesa sent Captain Lachesis an appealing look, as if he should speak in her defense. The captain remained silent, staring at his interlocked fingers on the tabletop. “I’ve implemented a process that speeds up terraforming a hundredfold. There will be medals all round, no doubt. It’s no wonder others are trying to drag me down.”
“
You
implemented it?
My
cypherteck created it! You owe me a huge favor.”
“You have some nerve, after
you
put a member of my team in the infirmary—”
“You don’t even intend to use Sha’nim’s talents here. Instead you’ve relegated her to menial tasks.”
“That will change in time. I know Edie won’t disappoint me.”
“She can serve the Crib far better by working for my research division.”
Edie caught her breath. Work for the Weapons Research Division? “I refuse to work for you,” she said.
Theron and Natesa swiveled to face her, their expressions mirror images of shock, as if they’d only just remembered she was in the room. Her comment was addressed to Theron. He seemed unperturbed by it.
“You’ll work where you’re told to work.” Theron jabbed his finger on the table to emphasize his words.
“You tortured Finn. I refuse to work for you,” Edie repeated.
Natesa looked smug, at what she must have perceived to be a sign of her protégée’s loyalty. “That’s right. You work for me,” she told Edie. “The colonel is getting ideas beyond his jurisdiction.”
Lachesis cleared his throat as he prepared to intervene. Theron got there first.
“You’d better hope that Prisca is recoverable.” His expressive brows grew thunderous as he pushed back his chair and stood. “You were only given one shot at this, Adminstrator. If Prisca collapses, as my sources think it will, this discussion is moot and Edie will join my team. Now, if you’ll excuse me, my schooner is ready to leave and I’m eager to get back to my
pet project
.”
He left the room with a generic nod of respect to the captain.
“Damn arrogant sonofabitch.” Natesa fumed. “The audacity of that man! He’s been insufferable ever since he made colonel. Does he have any idea—” She stopped herself and turned to Lachesis. “Surely there’s something you can do about this. This is
your
ship and Edie is assigned to
this
crew.”
“And Theron’s a colonel,” Lachesis replied. He still seemed embarrassed by the whole thing.
“I demand that you take this to CCU. We’ve been friends a long time, Jeremy.”
Lachesis squirmed at the emotional blackmail and gave a painful shrug. “I need to get back to the bridge.”
Natesa closed her eyes, taking a few deep breaths until Lachesis was gone. Then she turned a hard look on Edie. “The higher-ups at CCU headquarters will sort this out.
Nothing
comes before Project Ardra.”
“Not even four childhoods?”
“What? Ah, yes. Ming Yue told me you’d learned about the children. That’s why I wanted to see you.” As Edie drew breath to deliver her speech, Natesa held up a hand to silence her. “Spare me, Edie. I know what you’re thinking. But you don’t know what’s really going on. These are desperate times and we must use all available tools.”
“The only desperation I see is you attempting to bolster your career. Is it really that important to have the best, fastest terraforming team in the Reach?”
Natesa gave a weary sigh. “As I said, you don’t know everything. How did you find out about the children, anyway?”
“Someone let it slip.” She didn’t want to get the boy into trouble.
“Well, tomorrow afternoon we’ll visit the classroom and meet them. I want you to watch them work.”
“Are they really as good as you say? Theron said Prisca was floundering.”
“Nonsense. Teething problems. Prisca will be a glorious success, and it’s all because of my children.”
“Edie!”
Natesa’s sharp tone from the next room sent a stab of annoyance through Edie. Finn stopped what he was saying midsentence—he’d come into the bedroom to find out if she was ever getting up—and Natesa stepped into the doorway. Her glare fell on Finn and then, inexplicably, to the rumpled bed that Edie had just vacated. Edie didn’t care what Natesa thought, and the woman had no right to barge into her quarters. They always kept the hatch locked—she must have a master crew key.
Before Natesa could launch into whatever she’d come to say, Finn made to leave.
“I’ll meet you in the mess,” he told Edie. He strode across the room and angled his body to slip past Natesa in the doorway without touching or looking at her.
Natesa turned to watch him with a smirk of distaste. Edie heard the hatch snap as he left.
“You used to be an early riser,” Natesa said. “I couldn’t find you in the mess hall.”
“So you barge in here without permission? Please don’t do that again.”
Natesa raised her brows, surprised by the outburst but not at all offended. “My apologies. I have some good news that I wanted to share.” Her face stretched into a smile as fake as the crimson stain on her lips.
Edie was dubious that anything Natesa had to tell her would ever be good. She sat on the edge of the bed and waited.
“I’ve tracked down the infojack who created the leash. He was indeed incarcerated in a labor camp in the Rutger System, for kidnapping and high treason, among many other things. I’ve received permission to transfer him here temporarily, with orders to cut the leash.”
Edie’s immediate reaction—a sense of dread—caught her by surprise. Cutting the leash had always been her number one priority. Now the real possibility was on the table—and she was terrified. Achaiah might kill Finn in the process.
“Does he really think he can do it?” she asked.
“I spoke to him at length. He has a few ideas on how it might be accomplished. I think it’s worth trying.”
“
Trying
isn’t good enough. He can’t do it unless he’s absolutely certain it’s safe. You have to let me be there.”
“I’ll see if I can arrange that. In the next few days you’ll be very busy getting your head around Project Ardra.”
“I don’t care. I have to be there to make sure nothing goes wrong. For that matter, you’ll need Finn’s consent before you start messing with his head.”
“I hardly think he’ll object.”
“Why did you let him leave the room, anyway?” Edie asked. “This concerns him.”
“I’m not responsible for his comings and goings.” Natesa picked an imaginary fleck off her lapel. “Speaking of which, I’m not happy with this arrangement.” She waved her hand around, her gaze again lingering on the bed. “He shouldn’t be in VIP quarters. I have important guests from Central arriving in a few days and I don’t want them seeing a meckie wandering around on this deck. Winnie Tanning will get him a new room on the lower decks. Your relationship with
him is no doubt distracting you from the work you’re legally required to perform here.”
Edie pressed her fingertips to her forehead, massaging the ache forming there. “This is so far from being any of your business, Natesa. No one has complained about my work. I’m doing everything you asked.”
“I don’t like him,” Natesa enunciated. “The best thing for everyone is to cut this leash so I can throw him off the ship.”
Edie didn’t like Natesa’s choice of words, but what she said made sense. This was a classified project that Finn wasn’t cleared for, as if a former Saeth and ex-con would ever be cleared for such work. He wasn’t supposed to be here.
Her heart squeezed at the thought of him leaving. Leaving
her
behind. Would he come back for her? After all they’d been through together, he’d find a way—wouldn’t he?
When Natesa was gone, Edie curled up her legs and hugged her knees as self-doubt crept in. With the leash cut, everything would change. Finn had spent the last few years just surviving, and now he’d have the chance to truly live. She couldn’t compete.
Colors erupted like lava from the projector on the floor, forming a holosphere filled with tiny lights. The lights gathered together in a complex pattern and danced in formation. On closer inspection, Edie could see the pattern was divided into smaller clusters, and the lights in each cluster repeated the patterns of the larger formation. And within each cluster, again, tiny groups of lights repeated the same dance. The whole effect was that of a spinning, whirling fractal starscape pulsing to an unheard beat. A heartbeat. This was no computer simulation. Its rhythms were ever so slightly off—human, not machine.
The entire structure was being controlled and choreographed by the three children sitting around the projector.
Edie stood at the back of the classroom, amazed. Whatever she thought of Natesa’s school, she couldn’t deny that this display was beautiful. And that it took not only skill
but coordination. Three minds working in harmony in the datastream, three young faces frozen in concentration as they stared up into their composition of light. Edie had never seen anything like it. Everyone knew cyphertecks worked alone.
Edie glanced at Natesa at her side. The woman gave a smug smile, knowing that Edie was impressed by what she saw.
The children’s teacher, a forty-something woman with short curly hair and a pinched face, walked slowly around the outside of the trio, alternating her attention between the light display and the children. Edie recognized Galeon, the boy she and Finn had met. With him were two girls of about the same age.
As the lights cascaded in a waterfall of color and faded out, the teacher came up to Edie and Natesa.
“This is Aila Vernet,” Natesa said. “Aila, this, of course, is Edie Sha’nim.”
Aila regarded Edie with down-turned eyes that gave her a sad expression even when she smiled, as she did now. “It’s an honor to meet you. The children have been looking forward to this. They’ve studied your techniques rigorously as part of their training.”
Three pairs of young eyes were now focused on Edie. She could tell Galeon was suppressing a grin, and was doing a pretty good job of it.
“Is it normal for them to coordinate in a group like that?” Edie nodded at the projector.