“On a few occasions they’ve managed to get close enough to a seed to jack in. It’s a deadly exercise. A promising young cypherteck had just enough time to download this data before she was killed.”
Edie stared at the datacap, wondering what was on it. Trying not to wonder…
“Please, take a look,” O’Mara said, holding out the cap. “We would be most interested in your interpretation.”
“I don’t work for Theron and I never will.”
“Well then, do it as a favor to me. One cypherteck to another.”
Edie took the cap. She couldn’t
not
take it. A quick look wouldn’t do any harm. And really, it was her choice what she told O’Mara about it afterward.
He gave a little bow of thanks as she left the room.
The children had gone—to bed, she hoped, as it was getting late. The deck was filling up and the noise level was on the rise. She remembered why she hated this sort of thing. Natesa had a perverse fondness for these social dos, and had dragged Edie along to a few at Crai Institute on Talas. Edie’s primary objective was always to sneak out as soon as they were crowded enough that her presence would not be missed.
Natesa accosted her as she searched the room again for Finn. “Why were you talking to that man?”
“O’Mara?
You
introduced us.”
“And I’ve just found out who he is—one of Theron’s cronies.” She glared at Edie through slitted, black-lined eyes. “What did he want?”
“Nothing that concerns you.” Edie surreptitiously slipped the datacap into her pocket.
“How dare you scheme behind my back. Has Theron given the order to reassign you to Scarabaeus?”
So that’s what she was concerned about. “Wouldn’t you already know if he had?”
“Well, if he does give the order, he’ll have to wait.” She
lowered her voice, bringing her lips to Edie’s ear. “I read your message about that rogue protein Chessell deleted from the error logs. What he did was unforgivable, even if he truly thought it didn’t matter. Until this past year, I’d never worked with him before and I’m not sure I trust him any longer. There’s bound to be more he’s not telling me. You’re going dirtside to find out what else he’s not putting in his reports.”
“I can investigate from here.”
“No. I think you’ll be more focused if you’re actually there. And by the time you get back in a few days, the
Fortitude
will have left. Theron will have to send another transport. And by
then
, Prisca will be back on track and I’ll have the order rescinded. You’re going to Prisca, Edie. Tomorrow morning.”
Edie’s heart sank. This could mess with their escape plans. “What time tomorrow?”
“Report to the docking bay at oh-seven-hundred. And I suppose you’ll have to bring that lag along with you.”
Oh-seven-hundred…They should be gone by then. Edie played along. “Okay, I’ll be there.”
“You’ll do a better job down there than Caleb Chessell, anyway. A fresh set of eyes. Best cypherteck in the galaxy—if you can’t rescue Prisca from self-destruction, no one can.” The edge of panic to her voice was unmistakable.
Edie snuck out a side door and returned to her quarters, the datacap burning a hole in her pocket. She went straight to her console, plugged in the cap, and pressed her fingertips to the access port.
As the datastream flowed through her splinter, she expected to hear the music of Scarabaeus. Realized she’d been anticipating it, longing for it. Instead, she got a blast of foreign code that felt like an electric shock.
She concentrated on listening to the datastream. The song she recognized was here after all, choked by overlays of new code that astonished her with its complexity and impenetrability. It wasn’t set up in tiers, the standard way to organize biocyph. Instead, it was concentrated into tight tangled balls wedged between the tiers and vibrating at such a high frequency that they buzzed—like knots of twine, she thought, using a visual metaphor that Eric O’Mara would understand. These tangles obscured much of the base datastream.
No cypherteck would program in this way…
could
program this way. Had the knots come from Scarabaeus itself, as O’Mara had speculated? Biocyph was self-programming, of course—that was how the BRATs functioned, adapting to perform simulations and calculations that were far beyond
the capabilities of any human. But biocyph didn’t invent new
ways
of programming. Not like this.
She delved deeper between the tiers.
Loose strings extruded from the nearest tangle, each wailing its own tune. She isolated one, hooked a glyph to it, and pulled herself along. The string was far more complex than she’d initially thought. Its surface bubbled with activity as it recognized the intrusion and poked at the glyph with a hundred wasp stings. A headache bloomed behind Edie’s eyes.
She pushed on, cutting past the confusion, ignoring the persistent buzzing that grew louder as it drilled into her brain. Up ahead she felt the datastream thicken as she approached the tangle, ever more complex and angry.
Angry.
The children would describe it that way.
Edie tugged at the knot, determined to unravel it, but to no avail. Up close, she could tell it wasn’t integrated properly into the datastream. The loose tendrils were merged with the tiers, but the bulk of the tangle could not possibly be interacting much with the biocyph because it was so balled up. Whether or not these tangles were O’Mara’s “emergent property,” large parts of them were unlikely to be having a direct effect on the biocyph and therefore on the planet’s evolution.
Edie jacked out before her headache became unbearable. She’d satisfied her curiosity, frustrating though the experience had been. Whatever was happening on Scarabaeus, she wouldn’t learn anything more from this sim.
She still had four hours to kill before she was to meet Finn, Corinth, and Valari in Valari’s room to make final preparations for their escape. She paced her room restlessly, nervous about what might go wrong. They still had to steal the neuroxin—a last-minute job that would be made easier by the fact that most of the ship’s personnel were at the function. At the back of her mind, half formed plans about how they might have taken the children jostled for her attention. Natesa and Theron wouldn’t get what they wanted from her, but she wouldn’t get what she wanted, either.
But maybe there
was
something of value she could take with her…
Ten minutes later she was outside the lab hatch on Deck B. The lifts and corridors had been deserted—no one to question why she was running around the ship in a party dress holding a ratty old duffel bag. Now she drew out her crew key and hesitated. Her entry would be logged, but it was likely no one would check those logs until the morning—too late for repercussions. She snapped the hatch and stepped into the lab.
She moved through a maze of consoles, several of them lit as they worked on sims and other programs the tecks had left running overnight. In the darkened back room, orderly columns and rows of priceless biocyph modules lined the racks. She could fit two modules in the bag. Her imagination leapt ahead as she thought of what the Fringers could do with them. She’d heard there were maverick cyphertecks on the Fringe. Not Crib trained, not as good as she was, but skilled enough to make good use of the modules with or without her help.
With the crack out there, the Fringers didn’t need her any more. With the leash cut, Finn didn’t need her any more either—much as he might want her.
The children needed her. She’d always known that. Valari had refused to take them, and Edie had relented for Finn’s sake…but there was another option. Finn had said he wouldn’t leave her behind. But she could let him go. She could crush her ethical objections to Ardra, work dutifully for the Crib, and stand by the children, giving them the attention and love she’d never had.
Maybe, eventually, it would make up for what she’d done to Pris.
At the sound of footsteps near the door, Edie muttered a curse and slipped behind the racks. She’d foolishly left the main hatch open, assuming no one would be around. Peeking out, she saw Finn in the doorway. Edie moved slowly
into the wedge of soft light that spilled in from the main lab, suddenly nervous, of all things, about the dress.
“You left in a hurry. I’ve been looking for you.” His voice was a touch hoarse as he stared at her from the doorway, his gaze flickering over her body—mouth, breasts, dress, boots.
“You found me.” When he didn’t say more, didn’t move or do anything but look at her, she said, “How are the plans coming along?”
“The
Molly Mei
was given permission to dock for repairs a few hours ago. They messed with the fuel mix to cause neutron leak, and they’re asking for help with a valve recalibration. So far, so good.”
Her heart raced as she anticipated sneaking on board and leaving the Crib forever. Her brain fought the idea. She couldn’t do it…could she? Instead of voicing her ambivalence, she found herself talking about something else entirely.
“In case something goes wrong, in case we don’t get away…You should know they’re sending us dirtside early tomorrow morning. I mean, they’re sending me. And they don’t know about the leash, so—you as well.” He didn’t ask the obvious question, so she brought it up. “Unless you want to tell them the truth and avoid the trip.”
“You convinced me Natesa would force me to leave and then have me killed.”
Edie chewed her lip and nodded. “After what happened to Lukas, I think she might, if you left on a Crib ship. You’d be unprotected. On the Saeth ship you stand a chance.”
“Then let’s hope it all works out.”
“Yes…”
He’d moved toward her, a few casual paces that she’d somehow failed to notice. Her fingers closed around a nearby strut and she backed up a step, half hiding behind the rack. She’d been closer to Finn on more than one occasion but this was different. There was a look of determination in his eyes that only added to her ambivalence. If she stayed
behind…if she had the courage to stay behind, was it fair to let him believe this was the start of something when it was really the end?
“You look beautiful.”
She soaked up his words for a few seconds. “There were supposed to be shoes…”
“The boots make you look like you.”
“We made a deal once, remember? You comb your hair, I wear a dress.”
He made a small grunt of apology and came to her. “I didn’t comb my hair.”
Edie pushed her fingers through his dark curls, still too short to really need a comb anyway. She urged his head lower—not that he needed encouragement—and then lost her nerve at the last moment, nose-to-nose with him and frozen with her lips parted. She breathed in time with him, allowing herself to feel the tension building between them, for the first time not needing to clamp down on it. He kissed her instead, his hands sliding around her, pulling her close.
Something was wrong. He was tense.
“What is it?” she asked.
He shook his head slowly. “Feels strange…not having you in my head.”
“That’s good, right?”
“Yeah.” He slowly rolled his head from side to side. “I don’t know. I got used to you.”
“It wasn’t
me
, not really. Just static interference from a malfunction in the receiver—”
“I got used to you,” he repeated. He cupped her face between his hands and tilted her face upward. His thumbs lay across her cheekbones, warm points of pressure, and he kissed her again.
Lacing her fingers behind his neck, she responded aggressively, welcoming the groan from deep in his throat that signaled his surprise and pleasure. His hands were all over her skin and the racks clattered when he backed her up against them. It wasn’t until he cupped her bottom to lift her onto the
front rail of the racks, pressing between her thighs to show her where this was going, that she remembered a moment ago she’d been considering letting him go. She
had
to let him go…
Yet she was desperate for him. Her hands went to his belt, his went under her dress and he hooked aside the gusset of her panties.
His lips brushed her ear. “Is this what you want?”
She nodded quickly and pulled herself against him.
Giving in was easy. His hand was warm and firm on her thigh, and his other hand reached behind her to grab the rack for support. Around them, the vast metal lattice clinked in response to his rhythm. She should tell him she was going to stay behind.
Soon. Not now…
A sudden wash of orgasm baffled her, as though her body had betrayed her. She turned her face into the crook of his shoulder as he leaned into her, crushing her in his arms. She wanted to imprint him on her memory—his warmth and strength and smell. His calm assurance, his determination, and most of all his unwavering support of her.
“Are you okay?” Finn slid his hand into her hair and tugged gently to make her look at him. He gave a smile that made her chest tighten. “I think I was a little rough.”
“No…No, you weren’t,” she quickly said, because he looked like he was about to apologize.
Still, the metal rack dug into the backs of her thighs. She hadn’t noticed it until now. He helped her hop down and she surreptitiously straightened her underwear. His hands rested lightly on her upper arms, his fingers stroking her skin.
“Let’s find a bed and do this properly,” he said.
That made her smile. “Was it not done properly?”
He groaned, his eyes glittering. “That’s not what I meant. Take me back to your quarters.”
“You’re not allowed.”
“There’s no one around.”
Damn, he was temptingly persistent. The tension built in a not altogether unpleasant way as he watched her steadily for
a reaction and she stood there not knowing how to ask him to back down. But the idea of a repeat performance—especially when she knew he needed an emotional connection and whatever he thought might follow from that—terrified her. It was everything she wanted, had never had, could never have once they parted ways.
Her brief hesitation gave him his answer. Apparently he didn’t need the leash to sense her mood. Still, he tried again.