Page 23

I waited.

“If the subject attempts to reach the Crown, termination becomes mandatory.”

The channel closed.

For several seconds, the only sound in the transport was the low vibration of the engines.

I remained still.

The Veil had eliminated citizens before. Warriors. Officials. Traitors whose deaths could never be explained publicly. But fertile human females were different. Zuna crossed worlds for them. Warriors died bringing them back. Their fertility had become part of Zuna’s survival strategy. And someone had just authorized me to erase one.

I reopened Talia Mercer’s file and read through the summary again. Laboratory technician, human female. No combat training, no hostile affiliations, and nothing in her history justified the level of force now authorized against her. But the orders were valid, and that was what mattered. It had to be.

I adjusted the navigation controls, setting a new course for Zuna. Whatever she had found, someone clearly believed it was dangerous enough that she could not be allowed to place it in the King’s or Crown Prince’s hand. And I intended to learn why.

CHAPTER FOUR

Talia

Sera’n wasn’t at his station when I arrived the next morning.

That bothered me before I had any reason to let it.

He was late sometimes. Not often, but enough that his empty worktable shouldn’t have stopped me just inside the laboratory doors with my hand still wrapped around the strap of my bag.

His sample trays were there.

So was the dark cup he drank from every morning, positioned beside the secondary terminal exactly where he always left it.

But Sera’n wasn’t.

I glanced toward the adjoining storage room.

Empty.

The processing room beyond it was empty too.

“Talia?”

I turned.

A younger Zunatorian technician named Merik stood near the refrigeration units with a sealed specimen container tucked beneath one arm. His pale green ŭre glimmered beneath the skin of his neck as he looked from me to the door.

“You are early.”

“I’m three minutes late.”

He frowned as though checking that against some internal calculation.

“Then you are late.”

“Thank you, Merik.”

“You are welcome.”

I almost smiled.

Sometimes I couldn’t tell whether Zunatorians were being sarcastic or simply had no idea sarcasm had occurred.