The first stage was relatively simple—create a generic biocyph lock that mimicked those of the Fringe BRATs. Edie tapped into the
Learo Dochais
’s archival files for that. But something was wrong. As she tried to code the lock into the datastream, the tiers slid out from under her. She complexity of the lock wouldn’t mesh with the empty tiers.
If she couldn’t get this right, there was no hope of continuing.
She tried again, emptying her mind of distractions and focusing on the biocyph as it buzzed through her mind. When the datastream fell away yet again, like water trickling through a sieve, she grunted in frustration.
She opened her eyes and found herself looking into Finn’s. He sat opposite her, and she had the feeling he’d been watching her for a while. The nape of her neck was hot and damp, and her legs were cramping.
“Something wrong?”
She nodded. “It’s too much for me to handle. I can’t set up the biocyph lock. Without it, there’s nothing for the cryptoglyph to crack.”
“Try again.”
“I’ve tried. The problem is that stock biocyph is empty. It’s like trying to attach a lock to a nonexistent door. It won’t stick.”
“Do you have to use stock biocyph?”
“Yes. If I put the lock on programmed biocyph, the cryptoglyph will simply unlock it, and only it. I’m trying to make a master key here. I didn’t realize the stock biocyph would be so slippery.” Edie sat back in her seat, feeling defeated. “
Damn.
I don’t know how to make this work.”
Galeon wandered over. “Are you working on the top secret mission?”
“Yes.” Edie put a finger to her lips. “And we can’t talk about it, okay?”
“Are we going to play again?” He thrust the holo under Finn’s nose, showing that he’d been working through some moves by himself.
“In a minute,” Finn said with infinite patience. “So what next?” he asked Edie.
She stared at Galeon until the boy grew uncomfortable and pulled a face at her. “Maybe I need some help,” she said. “I have an idea.”
Edie set the biocyph module on Aila’s desk. “I’m curious to see what the children make of this.”
Aila didn’t bat an eyelid that Edie had the expensive equipment—after all, it came from the lab where she worked. Edie was counting on her lack of curiosity. Every day, Caleb sent the children a new set of tasks. Today, Edie’s first official day working with them in the classroom, she had slotted in one of her own.
The children tackled Caleb’s work with their usual disciplined enthusiasm. They were more accepting of Edie this time when she joined in, and that made her feel guilty. Not because she intended to deceive them—they would no more understand the biocyph lock than they understood Caleb’s isolated data from Prisca. In any case, it was Aila and CCU she was deceiving. No, it was because their single-mindedness forced her to realize that this work, the datastream, was all they had and it fulfilled them. Edie hadn’t wanted to become emotionally involved with the children. There was nothing she could do to help them. But as she watched their young minds being shaped and harnessed by the Crib, already to the point that they could imagine no other life, the desire to save them grew stronger with each passing hour.
“It keeps running away!” Raena said with a giggle.
They’d reached Edie’s task at last. Jacked into the biocyph module, which itself was new territory for them, they spent a few minutes jumping across the tiers as though it were a fascinating new playground. They found the tiers slippery just as Edie had, and she corralled them into their diamond formation to funnel the datastream. The biocyph lock floated free where Edie had left it, impossible to pin down. Now she had help. She nudged the lock into place and sensed the children examining it, prodding it, trying to figure it out.
“We need to embed it in the tiers,” Edie said. “Let’s see if we can do it.”
“What
is
it?” Hanna said, poking at the edges with a quickly constructed seeker. “I can’t see inside it.”
“It’s ugly and mean,” Galeon declared.
“Is it broken? Should we fix it?” Raena, asked.
“Yes, we need to fix it,” Edie said. She spun the biocyph lock to show them the glyphs she’d attached to it. “Grab the glyphs and attach them to the tiers.”
Edie felt the difference as soon as they made the attempt. With the datastream under control this time, the lock was easier to hold as they aligned it to the tiers. The lock shuddered in their grasp when it touched the tiers, sending out jagged notes that distorted the perfect hum of the raw biocyph’s untainted song. Then it slotted into place, spiraling around the tiers in a brief moment of chaos and cacophony. It froze in formation, an insoluble jumble of code that held captive the empty stock biocyph.
Raena looked unhappy. “Did we fix it or make it worse?”
“What’s it for?” Hanna asked. “It doesn’t do anything.”
“You did great,” Edie said. “And it’s not meant to do anything. It was just an exercise.”
Just an exercise…As Edie left the classroom, module tucked safely under her arm, she wondered what Aila would say if she knew what the children had just done. Or more specifically, what Edie intended to do with what they’d just done.
She’d barely had time to return the module to the lab when her palmet signaled she had an incoming call on her personal console. From Anwynn.
She raced back to her quarters, only to find it was a pre-recorded message. And it wasn’t from Lukas.
A middle-aged woman with kind, sad eyes and weathered skin peered into the holoviz.
“Edie, I’m Beria, Lukas’s wife. I’m so sorry to have to tell you that he died last night.”
The simple words struck Edie like a bodily blow. She staggered into the seat at her console.
He died…he died…
Her mind repeated the phrase, washing out all other thoughts, until she realized Beria was still talking.
“He talked about you often, Edie, and he was so thrilled to hear from you.” Beria looked down at her tightly clasped hands resting on the console on the other side of the Reach. “He was sick, as you know. He seemed to be doing well on the meds, but…he had a sudden seizure. It’s never happened before. It was very quick.”
Beria still hadn’t looked up. Edie felt like her blood had turned to icy sludge, like it was struggling to push oxygen through her body.
It’s never happened before.
Now those words started repeating in her mind.
Beria composed herself and looked up. Her eyes had taken on a desperate, haunted look that broke Edie’s heart.
“Edie, take care of yourself. He told me before he died that he wanted the very best for you.”
Beria’s face faded as the message ended. For a few minutes Edie could only sit slumped in her seat, riding out the shock.
He had a sudden seizure. It’s never happened before.
She felt the truth to the core of her soul: Natesa had had Lukas killed. Because he’d said too much, or because Natesa resented his influence over Edie, or…
A second realization hit at the same time—she could never prove it. Natesa would never admit it. And accusing
Natesa would get her nowhere. Lukas was dead and there was nothing she could do to get justice for him.
And if Natesa could kill Lukas that easily, she could kill Finn, too. There were so many ways. An “accident” with the rigs where he worked. An “accidental” separation beyond the leash’s boundary that triggered the bomb in his head. Execution for kidnapping a Crib citizen—Natesa had made it clear that was still on the table. Or if the leash was cut, she could send him away and hire an assassin and Edie would never even know. Finn would disappear, and she’d never know if he was dead or alive.
She had to warn him.
She ran though the busy, noisy workrooms and alcoves and hangars on Deck G, pushing past workers, winding her way around equipment, barely seeing the organized chaos around her, ignoring shouted warnings to
slow down
and
watch out
. She couldn’t find him. Reason kicked in at last and she stopped at a general access console to check the scheduling. Finn was assigned to the loading bay today. She was going the wrong way.
She backtracked, forcing herself to walk at a steady pace. It was only then she noticed that she was being followed. The same stocky man in utility coveralls always seemed to be nearby, a few steps ahead of her or a few steps behind. Checking equipment, clearing walkways, greeting other workers with brief words…He was always there.
Immediately her thoughts went to her illegal activities with the crack. Her guilty conscience heightened her awareness—more than likely making her paranoid. How could a utility worker know what she was up to? She’d returned the biocyph module to the lab, moving it to a rear rack so no one would use it for a long while. She’d carefully timed her visits to the lab and was certain no one had seen her with the module—but even if they had, Aila had remained unsuspicious, so her story about a random exercise for the children should hold.
No, this man must be coincidentally going in the same
direction. He was simply taking his time, pausing to chat along the way. When she took a deliberate wrong turn and he didn’t follow, she breathed a sigh of relief.
But when she looked back again, she saw that he’d headed down the corridor leading to the loading bay. Was he after Finn instead? Alarm bells went off in her head, tensing every muscle in her body. Natesa had dealt with Lukas…now she was after Finn.
Edie turned on her heel and hurried down the same corridor. She heard a man’s voice, low and accented, and Finn’s reply. She followed the sounds around another corner.
Finn and the man clasped forearms in a manner that signified more than just a formal greeting. It was a show of comradeship. Despite their physical differences, this man and Finn were mirror images. The same bearing, the same expressions of mutual respect even though they appeared never to have met before.
This, then, was one of the Saeth. Edie hung back, feeling silly for being paranoid, feeling ill equipped to deal with this moment while Lukas’s death was so fresh in her mind.
As she watched the men interact, the truth unfolded before her eyes. Finn belonged with the Saeth. Lukas’s future had been stripped away years ago, as had hers, but Finn had a life to return to. Their two worlds had nothing in common. For one ridiculous, selfish moment she hoped the leash would never be cut and she could have him near forever, whether in her world or his.
She caught Finn’s eye over the man’s shoulder. He, noticing Finn’s attention was elsewhere, turned quickly. He didn’t seem surprised to see Edie.
“She’s with me,” Finn said.
The man nodded, and Edie could see he already knew that.
“We wanted to catch the two of you together,” he said. “That’s why I followed you here.”
“We?”
As the query left her lips, Edie sensed someone coming
up behind her. Finn’s expression changed as he saw who it was. A tall woman brushed past Edie, her confident stride exuding both power and sensuality as she approached Finn. All Edie saw from the back was shiny auburn hair, neatly bobbed, and the same meckies’ coveralls that everyone else on the deck wore—she somehow made them look like high fashion.
“Jaron Solfinn Atellus,” the woman murmured.
For a moment Edie thought she was addressing the other man. But she had eyes only for Finn.
Jaron Solfinn Atellus
. Finn’s real name. Edie had never heard it before.
Finn drew in a breath and let it out shakily. Edie felt the emotion pouring off him as surely as if the leash’s interference worked in the opposite direction. As she watched the two of them greet each other with the same handshake, she knew at once who this was.
There was a woman,
Finn had once told her.
Because of her, I took up a cause.
Edie remembered the pang of jealousy she’d felt when he first told her, and now it returned with a vengeance. This woman was the reason Finn had joined the Saeth. This was his former lover, who had held so much influence over him as a younger man. Even ignoring her physical perfection, which wasn’t easy, Edie sensed a seductive charm rolling off the woman. No wonder Finn had followed her, and fallen for her.
“It’s just Finn now.” There was a tightness to Finn’s voice that Edie had never heard before. She couldn’t tell if it was nerves or wariness or something else—in any case, it signaled a deep emotional response.
“Finn. Short and sweet. I like it.” The woman turned to include Edie in the group, her dark-rose lips still curved in the affectionate smile she had bestowed on Finn. Her clear aqua eyes, highlighted with a smudge of black makeup, were mesmerizing. “So this is Edie Sha’nim.”
Finn jerked his head at the woman. “Edie, this is Valari Zael.” His eyes were narrowed in concern as he looked at
Edie. Her shock and grief, transmitted down the leash as indefinable white noise, were making him uncomfortable.
The other man watched the reunion with interest. He had an easy smile on his face where Edie felt her own expression had frozen. He held out a hand to her.
“And I’m Corinth.”
Edie drifted forward a couple of steps, feeling out of her depth among three Saeth. She shook Corinth’s hand in the normal manner, and then Valari’s. She wanted them gone. She wanted to tell Finn about Lukas and warn him about Natesa. But these two people were their only hope of rescue.
“How did you find Finn?” she asked, because she couldn’t think of anything else to say.
“The Saeth picked up a signal from your chip a few weeks ago,” Valari said, turning back to Finn, “when you passed through an area of space that we routinely monitor. Blind luck. By the time we got to the
Lichfield
, they’d taken you. But we noticed a woman listed as part of your group, so we took her and—”
“You found Cat?” Edie broke in.
“Caterina Carmel, yes.” That was Cat’s new ident. “We thawed her out and got the full story from her.”
Cat under a Saeth spotlight. That couldn’t have been pretty.
“Is she okay?”