I acknowledge that with a quirk of my lips, pointless to deny it. “If she knows anything of value, we can’t afford to let anyone else have it.” Since the former bounty hunter regards me with a tilt of his head, his claws tapping a skeptical cadence, I add, “If nothing else, her work with nanites will prove a big help to Doc. He’s researching two different problems that could be solved via their application.”
“You do not need to convince me, Sirantha.”
That’s when I realize it; he knows my plan before I do. We’re going after her. Maybe she knows something that can help us, but if not, well, I simply feel a kinship to her because of what we’ve both suffered. If she’s not a prisoner, then security shouldn’t be an issue. We’ll slip in and get her out before anyone knows why we’re there. I doubt they’ve moved on her yet. They’ll want to build a sense of trust first.
Since she was a former Farwan employee, they think she’ll jump at the chance to come back. They don’t realize Science Corps is independent now. She doesn’t have to take orders on how she goes about her research anymore, and that kind of autonomy is fiercely addictive. Mary knows, I wouldn’t want anyone telling me where to jump.
“Which ship do you wish to commandeer?”
I consider that. March can’t be spared from his work here. He’s the only one who sees the big picture, who knows what we need to do. He’s been studying old vids until his eyes look bruised from lack of sleep, assembling the Armada structure piece by piece. In addition, he needs to be here to come to terms with the smugglers, and more ships arrive every day. A certain amount of chaos is conducive to doing business; utter anarchy like we have now really eats into the profit margins.
“It’ll have to be Hon’s . . . and his crew,” I say with some regret. “They’ve been training longest. The others have work to do here. But this will be a good dry run, best if we see how far we can trust him in a less-than-dire situation. A smaller ship will draw less comment on Perlas, too. The Triumph is far too memorable.”
“Prudent,” he commends. “But I do not envy you the task of explaining this mission to the commander.”
I wince at his intentional emphasis on rank. “Can I rely on you to talk to Hon if I do the same with March?”
His faceted eyes meet mine in a cant of his head that once looked peculiar. “Sirantha, you may rely on me for anything.”
Warmth surges through me as I push to my feet. “I’ll let you take care of that. I want to leave as soon as Hon can ready the ship. Wish me luck.”
“You will not need it,” he says gravely.
Before going to see March, I stop at the comm array. Something about Evelyn’s message has been bothering me. Surge isn’t anywhere to be seen, but I remember how to queue up the vid. I watch it twice more before I put my finger on it. Because quality was poor, and there was interference, I didn’t notice the first time. But in the background . . . I spot what could be a Morgut. Watching her. I see only its reflection in her wardrober, blurred and damaged. But unquestionably, something is there.
“Constance, can you clean this up?” I touch the screen where I want her to work on the image.
“Will make the attempt, Sirantha Jax. No guarantee of success.”
A few minutes later, I have the proof I need. It’s a monster in her quarters. Why was it just watching her record? That makes no sense; I’ve never known them not to attack. To them, we are meat, nothing more. But Evelyn had stayed its hand, so to speak. Does that mean she’s the reason they have been targeting Science Corps vessels, specifically looking for her? What the hell does she know?
But she was cleverer than they gave her credit for—somehow she slipped away from them, then hid in a seemingly dead pod. We have got to get this woman before anyone else does. I call March to the comm room and reveal my findings, then explain why I think we need to make a rescue run.
He puts up a brief fight. “This is no different than my wanting to go look for my nephew.”
At that I shake my head. “He’s a child, and we don’t know where he is. That’s a waste of time and effort better served elsewhere right now. It’s wholly personal. Evelyn Dasad is a resource we can’t afford to have fall into other hands. Do you want Farwan perfecting that technology to use against us? The Morgut would be even worse. Imagine fighting them, improved by rapid nanite healing.”
“Checkmate. You talk like a commander, Jax. Want my job?”
“Not for the all the choclaste in this sector,” I reply with genuine horror. “I don’t juggle nearly as well as you. Plus, I can’t make the scary face.”
He pulls his hard face into austere lines, his eyes like chips of amber. “This one?”
“Yep.” I don’t have to fake a shiver. “That’s it. Keeps everyone in line.”
“Everyone except you,” he mutters. “You realize we’re twenty-one days from a beacon, which is why we set up here in the first place. It’s going to take you a long time to get there and—”
“Why?” I cut in.
March raises a brow. “Why what?”
“Why does it have to take so long to jump?”
By his expression, he thinks I’ve lost my mind. “Because it doesn’t work that way. The phase drive only works in certain zones, you know that, and—”
“The first thing we learn is that there is no distance in grimspace, as relates to coordinates in straight space,” I counter.