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“You’d better make sure Diadora doesn’t catch you,” Vegas said. “You’re not going to believe this, but she still expects us to work on making matches.”

“That’s impossible. We don’t have access to the database. How can we make matches?”

“The old-fashioned way, using the application forms the aliens submitted. You know she insists on us keeping offline files, so we have no excuse not to work if there’s a problem with the database.”

“I need to stay here,” Heather said. “I can work with Loka to help fix things.”

“You two are working together?” Vegas flashed a grin at Heather.

Loka’s hand touched Heather’s back, as if showing her he was there for her.

“I guess we are.”

“I’ll cover for you as long as I can,” Vegas said. “You’re more useful here than pulling files in the office. Honestly, it’s a complete waste of time.”

“If I can’t help out here, I’ll come find you,” Heather said. “I don’t want Diadora getting angry with me.”

Vegas gave her another quick hug before leaving the room with Nell.

Heather turned to see Roland on his knees, a tool bag open. “Where shall we start?”

“Focus on the panel above my head,” Roland said as he dismantled a singed looking supply route. “Keep checking the code. You might spot something else. The thread you’ve got is incomplete, so I’m not sure what all the commands mean. See if you can block any code variations. I’m concerned whoever is doing this could send more instructions.”

“We’re on it.” Heather strode to the panel with Loka. The panel felt hot as she stopped in front of it. She frowned and leaned closer.

“Do you see something?” Loka asked.

“I’m not sure. Something is off here.” She ran her hand over the top of the control panel.

“Another coding error?”

“Let’s see if I can get full access. This screen is operating in compatibility mode, so we aren’t seeing everything.” As Heather pressed on the screen, a surge of white hot energy shot out, slamming into her chest and knocking her backward.

She imagined she’d cried out, warning others to stay away, but she couldn’t be certain as her fingers throbbed and tingles of energy flooded through her.

The last thing Heather felt was Loka’s arms capturing her, preventing her from hitting the ground as she passed out.

Chapter 8

Loka couldn’t get comfortable. No matter the position he sat in, he needed to make sure he could see Heather.

She was in his bed, her eyes closed and her breathing steady. He knew that because he checked every five minutes.

His stomach still roiled as he recalled how she was flung back toward him as the energy surge plunged through her body.

She’d been convulsing when he’d held her, her eyelids fluttering and the smell of her flesh burning filling his nostrils.

Heather had been unconscious for ten hours. The station’s doctor had checked on her, given her a shot of pain relief, and applied burn salve to her injuries, but she hadn’t been able to stay long. There were dozens of injuries across the space station, and they all needed medical attention.

Loka was still not reassured, even though the doctor said Heather would make a complete recovery. He couldn’t get the memory of her convulsing in his arms out of his head.

The skin on the tips of her fingers and her arms were still bright red, where the burn salve repaired the injuries. Heather also had a slash of red across one cheek, where a blast of heat had licked her face.

It was as if the panel had been rigged to explode when activated. Maybe it had been. That could have been what those bots were doing when they’d discovered them in engineering.

Shifting in the seat by his bed again, Loka touched a finger delicately to her cheek. He had been wrong to involve her in this. Heather was too vulnerable. He should never have agreed to work with her. His own desires to spend time with Heather and get to know her better had overridden his sensibilities.

She was a vulnerable human, not like him. She had no horns or claws to protect herself. If Loka had received that jolt of energy, it would not have knocked him out. Heather’s curiosity led her to dangerous situations. He should have insisted he examine the panel first. He might have realized the heat emanating from it suggested a malfunction. Heather would never have touched it and been injured. She could have been killed.