Holly straightened her spine, thrust out a hand, and said, “That’s right. Hi, I’m Holly Greene-Moone.” She emphasized the “Greene” half of her name to try and separate herself from her grandfather.
“Sam.”Ah. Alyce had mentioned him. Important guy around here. His enormous hand engulfed hers in a brief shake, but he didn’t quite meet her gaze. “Just here to bring these in for you.”
Holly had a sudden, fierce urge to tell him to take it all right back to the landing pad. That she was in over her head and was leaving on the next ship out. But that was probably the “peckish” talking.
“Thank you.” She stepped back to make room for him to come in.
Sam nodded and maneuvered the flatbed through the doorway as Bean trotted around Sam’s feet, vying for the big man’s attention. Holly was still coming to grips with being a dog owner, but she bought into the idea that people who were kind to animals were more likely to be kind people. Not always, but most of the time.
“He likes you,” she said, wondering if Bean would ever greet her that way.
“He spent some time with me up in the control tower when Charles started to decline,” he said. “He’s a good dog.”
“And you didn’t want to keep him?”
“Nah. Bean hated my repair bots,” he explained, locking the flatbed in place. “And my bots hated him.”
“Oh.” Holly stepped back as Sam lifted the first luggage crate. So, there’d be no getting Sam to take the dog permanently.
“Where do you want these?” Sam asked. He had the broadest shoulders she’d ever seen, and hands that looked like they could crush metal. Maybe they could. Holly noticed that several of his fingers were clearly cybernetic. The flesh-toned paint at the joints had worn away to reveal gray metal beneath. One of his eyes had geometric gold shapes in the iris. Replacement parts, and there were probably more she couldn’t see. Not uncommon for people who had fought in war zones, but definitely unusual for the types of duties he would perform here.Curious.
“You can just put them wherever,” she said, waving a hand.
He began moving crates with ease, placing them on the floor with more care than the Penrian sisters had shown. His movements were efficient, but his jaw was tight. He still hadn’t looked her in the eye. Sam was clearly unsure about her, and while she understood that, she really wished he wasn’t.
“So,” she said, trying to make some conversation. “You’re in charge of the spaceport?”
He paused, a crate in his hands. “Yes.”
“Surely not just you, though. You have a crew, yes?”
He lifted another crate. “No crew, unless you count my bots. They do good work, though.”
She was sure they did, thinking of the patched-up unit that had greeted the sisters on the landing pad. Still, she’d never heard of a spaceport being operated by one individual. “The force field on the landing pad. I noticed it was fluctuating when I arrived. Is that normal?”
Sam’s expression shuttered. He set the crate down carefully before answering. “No, and they’re not exactly fluctuating. The containment system is running at seventy percent power. Forces it to pulse rather than maintain a constant flow.”
Um. She shook her head. “Whyis it running at seventy percent?”
“Energy. The facility is powered by solar collection cells embedded in the outer surface of the dome’s frame, but those cells started failing a few years back.” Sam’s voice was flat. “Charles wouldn’t approve spending thenitsto replace them. The only other option was to turn down the power grid. So that’s what I did.”
Holly stared at him. “He risked the atmospheric containment of the landing pad to avoid the cost of maintaining the solar cells?”
Sam shrugged. It was clear he’d stopped being surprised by anything a long time ago.
“That is…” She pinched the bridge of her nose. There were no words for how dangerous that was. “Please put in an order to replace the failing solar cells. We need that grid running at full power.”
Sam looked at her then. Actually looked at her, for the first time since he’d arrived. There was something cautious in his expression. Hopeful, maybe, but wary of that hope. “You know something about station systems.”
“I redesigned sections of a few of them.” She shook her head. “Systems that aren’t maintained properly become unstable and dangerous. I can’t believe Charles didn’tat leastapprove repairs for vital systems.”
“I voiced my concerns,” Sam said slowly. “I know you just got here, but I won’t lie to you. Nothing in this station has been maintained since Charles took over.” He finished moving the last crate and stepped back. “We’re one bad module away from system collapse.”
Holly began to pace the small space. “Can you run a full diagnostic of all the systems and make up a report?” she askedhim. “As soon as possible, if that’s feasible. Don’t hold back. I want to hear all your concerns.”
Sam snorted. It wasn’t a happy sound. “That will be a long list.”
“I want it.”
