Most of the time it’s just plain old human error or equipment failure.
My story will simply be written off as the ravings of someone driven mad by trauma.
“You got away from us and tried to steal theAurorain your confusion.” He gives a dramatic sigh. “You tried to push old and damaged equipment too hard. The engines overloaded and… boom. Everyone on board is lost. A tragedy, really.”
Including several security teams and the son of a prominent Verux executive, thereby dampening any potential talk of the “tragedy” being a Verux cover-up.
It is fucking cold. And absolutely brilliant. So what are they waiting for?
“I don’t suppose Mr. Behrens managed to locate our property during his extended stay on theAurora?” Max asks. “It would be helpful to know where they searched. Wallace hid it a little too well, and we’re running out of time. The charges are set to go off, regardless of our success or failure. But I’d rather it be a success.”
They want the weapon back. To use again. Or perhaps to prevent awkward questions should a thorough examination of the wreckage be performed by someone other than Verux. Even engine explosion—or the simulation of such—wouldn’t destroy everything.
I take a deep breath. One of my numbered last, it seems. “Go fuck yourself, Max.”
His delighted laughter follows, tinny and small, as I yank off my helmet. My heart is hammering hard in my chest, and for a moment, I can’t breathe. Trapped in this one room, made even smaller by all the mattresses stuffed in here.
The mattresses.
The mattresses make it better, softer.That’s what Kane had said. I’d taken it as a sign of his degraded mental condition. I thought he was talking about the floor, but he meant the sound. The mattresses must help deaden the vibrations in here, at least. Like acoustic padding. He and Nysus had figured that much out. Now, knowing what I know, I understand what I missed before when Nysus had given us what he could from the diagnostics. The maxed-out noisedampeners that shouldn’t have been, the extraneous power usage. It was that damn device.
Did I know that before? That it was mechanical, man-made? I still have no idea. It also no longer matters.
I sink to the floor, next to Kane. He watches me warily.
Reed rushes over, stumbling over the corner of a mattress. He looks faintly ridiculous, still in his suit and helmet. “What’s going on? What are you doing?”
“We’re the cover story,” I say flatly, pulling at the fasteners on my suit. “They’re going to blow up theAuroraand blame us. Well, me.”
“But he can’t… that’s not,” Reed splutters. “I’m—”
“Your death is what sells it,” I say. “All part of the plan. They need it to look like they suffered losses, too.” I wonder how much the security teams are getting paid. Enough to make it a tempting offer for a better future for their families and loved ones, not enough to make it truly worth it once they got out here, I’m guessing.
Reed’s mouth falls open and stays that way. “Wha… why?”
“Don’t you know who you work for?” I do. In the absence of other options—a condition Verux created—I chose not to look too closely at my employer’s decisions. But now, I’m reaping what I sowed.
I edge closer. “Kane. It’s me.” I’m careful not to touch him. I don’t want to freak him out.
He blinks at me, his gaze sharpening. “Claire?”
“Still me,” I affirm. For now, anyway. I shrug my suit off my shoulders, peeling it down to my waist, freeing my arms.
Kane’s hand shoots out and catches my hand. His fingers intertwine gently with mine, and his grasp makes something tight in me relax.
“What are you doing?” Reed demands.
“Getting comfortable.”
His eyes widen behind the glass of his faceplate. “But you can’t just—”
“What the fuck do you want me to do,Mr. Darrow?” I ask. “We’re stuck in here.”
“But there has to be a way to—”
I shake my head dismissively. “Even if we could get out of this room, how do you propose we get off this ship?”
He hesitates. “TheAurora’s escape pods—”
