“It’s less where and more how,” explained Ren. “Most of it was readily available. Just not…clear what it means. It’s like a puzzle. And once I found a few pieces, I couldn’t resist finding the rest.”

Fiearius watched the back of the man’s head, wondering just how good at ‘puzzles’ someone has to be to figure something like that out. And then Ren let out a laugh. “I wrote it all down thinking that one day the information would just end up in some tabloid no one would believe. Never figured it’d be used to assassinate the Society Council.”

Fiearius grimaced, but Leta smiled at him encouragingly.

Most of the wooden circulation desk was broken and crushed into the floor, which dampened Fiearius’ optimism that the book could be intact, let alone findable. But Ren led them past the desk and into a back room that, judging by the overturned furniture, had once been an employee’s lounge.

“I used to work here while I was in law school,” he explained, “and we had storage lockers to keep our things in. Over here.”

Ren crouched to his legs and started to type on the keypad of a small metal locker.

“You remember the passcode?” said Leta in amazement, and Ren’s mouth twitched toward a wry, sad smirk.

“Your birthday and an anagram of your name, Leta? Yeah, I remember.”

Shifting awkwardly on his feet, Fiearius wished he could have waited outside for this part, but then the locker door creaked open. Ren seized a dusty journal and stood to his feet, giving it over to Leta.

Looking startled but hopeful, Leta grabbed the book and skimmed through the pages, frowning at whatever was written there. Fiearius watched her, but his eyes were drawn back to Ren who had immediately averted his eyes the moment she cracked open the spine. He was clearly roiling with nervous energy, his arms crossed over his chest, fists clenched, his foot tapping on the ground.

“Ren–this is–,” Leta began, sounding conflicted, but as soon as she saw the man who had taken to pacing small circles a few feet away, she clamped her mouth shut and clamped the book shut. “Thank you. This will help a lot.”

“I hope so.” Ren was already turning towards the exit doors, apparently eager to get out of this place. Fiearius fell into step beside Leta and raised a brow at her. She didn’t look pleased.

“Fiear,” she whispered. “This book–it’s nonsense. Farming techniques, baking recipes, history essays…”

Fiearius sighed through his teeth. Leta had said Ren’s codes were complex. “Just have to hope Carthis’ team can figure it out.”

But she was shaking her head. “I don’t know, Fiear, remember how long it took them just to crack the Verdant-encoded message you sent me?” She frowned. “About fancy cheese…”

Fiearius let out a chuckle. “I had just found out my chip could do that, I thought it’d be fun.”

“And a waste of resources,” Leta corrected. “This though–” She lifted the book. “This could take years.”

Fiearius eyed the book uneasily. She knew as well as he did that there was no way Ren would agree to even look at the code, let alone translate it for them. Nor was he in any condition to, frankly. A year on the Baltimore had done his mental stability no favors.

“Well what do you suggest?”

But it was Ren who answered. “There’s a cipher,” he said from up ahead. Both Leta and Fiearius looked at him in surprise. “I can hear you two, you know.” He gestured at the high ceilings. “It echoes in here.”

Fiearius glanced nervously at Leta and then asked, “Where is it?”

A small smile came to his face and he tapped his temple with his index finger. Leta stepped towards him, the book in her hands. “Ren, we can’t ask you to–”

Ren’s eyes darted to the book in her hands and instinctively he took a step back, eyes widened in alarm. Leta tucked the book behind her back and he clenched his eyes, gaining control of himself. “I said I would only lead you to the journal. But…you’re right. It’s useless if you can’t unlock it. Let me talk to your best code-breaker. I’ll–get them started on writing the cipher. As much as I can.”

Leta crossed the space between them and grasped his arm. “Thank you, Ren. Thank you. This is really going to make a difference.”

Ren flashed her a brief, weak smile, and then they started back through the library, back to the exit, picking their way over broken shelves and chairs. Fiearius knew logically he should have been relieved — they were about to close out this job successfully — but instead, he felt his insides sway with uncertainty. He slowed to a stop between the shelves, scanning the room. The back of his neck prickled.

Leta paused, turning back to him. “What is it?” she pressed quietly.

Fiearius held his finger to his lips to quiet her and tilted his head behind him. They were being followed.

He had no real evidence, but somehow Fiearius knew it to be true: years of clandestine, less than legal operations gave him a sense of when someone’s gaze was on his back. Ren’s eyes widened, and Leta nodded once, silently withdrawing the gun at her hip. Fiearius jerked his head indicatively and they all stepped into the hallway between bookshelves, pretending to keep walking when instead they were waiting, not breathing.

Seconds later, and sure enough — there was the unmistakable crack of glass underfoot. Fiearius watched as a figure draped in shadow moved into view, visible between the slanted books on the shelf, and then he appeared before them. Leta exhaled sharply with fear, the figure yelped in surprise, and Fiearius launched himself at the intruder, throwing his forearm around his neck, crushing the man’s Adam apple. With his other hand he pressed his gun hard against his temple to force him to the ground.

Moonlight threw shadows over the man’s face as he struggled; he wasn’t showing the Society librera, nor military greens, and there was no red band around his arm that indicated he was a rebel. “Stop!” the man gasped, clawing at Fiearius’ forearms, kicking free and knocking books off the shelves. Fiearius tightened forearm against his neck savagely as the man wheezed, “Fuck, don’t shoot!”

Before Finn knew what was happening, one of the guards pressed the COMM in her ear. “Control, we need backup at the gates.” The other pointed his gun at Finn’s chest and said, “Step away from the Free.”

“Oh for god’s sake,” Finn growled, holding up his hands in surrender and taking a step away from Cai anyway. “This is ridiculous.”

Cai himself tried to amend the situation. “Really,” he assured the guards, “It’s not like that at all. He’s a friend, honestly, he hasn’t –”

“Sorry, sir, we can’t take that risk,” said the guard as she tapped something on her tablet. “Now if we can just get your ally ID–”

“But — ugh, 210544 — please, this is really unnecessary–”

“Ah, here you are, Cailean, is it?”

“Yes, but listen–”

“Not to worry, sir, we’re well equipped to handle this situation–”

Finn watched them argue back and forth, his frustration mounting. This was so stupid. Not to mention a waste of time. All he needed was to see Raisa for five minutes. Maybe less. And yet he was stuck at the entryway, accused of keeping slaves. He internally groaned.

“Please, I know you’re just doing your job, but–” Cai was saying to the guard when suddenly Finn saw a way out of this. The woman he was speaking to hit a few buttons on a keypad and the pair of doors behind them slowly creaked open. The guard with the gun on him was talking to someone on his COMM, hardly paying attention to Finn. And when the woman told Cai, “Go right ahead, sir, you’ll be well-protected inside, I guarantee it,” Finn decided that he was fully tired of waiting.

In a flash, without bothering to give it a second thought, Finn frowned, turned on his heel, and bolted through the doors.

“Captain!” he heard Cai yell over his shoulder as he dodged his way through the crowded Conduit marketplace. “No!”

It was only moments before Finn was out of sight of the door. He slowed his pace, stepping easily into the throng and disappearing amongst them.

Well he was inside. That was a start. But as he looked around the market and down the hallways beyond, he realized with some discomfort that the truth was — Finn didn’t know where he was going.

As he chose one of the hallways at random, he realized something else: there were more guards, their guns ready and their eyes searching as the COMMs in their ears probably barked Finn’s description.

As he continued down the hallway, he ducked out of sight of one, sped past the back of another and then made the most unfortunate eye contact with another.

He froze in place. So did she. And then, in a flash, her hand went to her COMM, she barked, “Found him!” and Finn did all he could do: run.

Fortunately, the further into the Conduit he ran, the less people he had to avoid ramming into. Unfortunately, the further into the Conduit he ran, the less people he could hide behind. His feet pounded the metal floor, echoes bouncing across the walls and only barely behind him, a slowly growing barrage of pursuers. He could only be thankful that none of them seemed willing to fire off any rounds into the steel tube they ran through. At least not yet…

Still, as fast as Finn could run, they were gaining on him and he needed to reach Raisa before that happened. All he needed was a chance to explain himself. In twenty minutes, they could all be laughing about this.

But for now, he took his chances that he was going to find his salvation down the fork to the right.

Well, he was half right.

In front of him, some 30 yards, was a door that lead into the main command hub of the ship. Standing in that door was, he recognized from the calls Corra used to have with her, Raisa.

The downside was that standing between them was six more guards, far more armed than their counterparts and those arms were pointed directly at him.

Finn stumbled to a halt before them, his hands raised in surrender. His eyes locked on Raisa’s. “Listen, I need to talk to you, it’s –”

But before he could speak further, before he could smooth all this over and explain the situation, the stout older woman raised her own hand to silence him. Her forehead was creased into a frown as she barked, “I don’t know who you are or what you’re trying to do, but it ends here.”

Finn opened his mouth again, determined to get out his reasoning, but then the sound of six guns cocking met his ears and suddenly the words were lost on his tongue.

Someone else, however, found them.

“Wait! Don’t shoot!”

Finn swung his head around to find the source: Cai, gasping for breath and hobbling towards them on his busted leg.

“Don’t–don’t shoot him, he’s a friend!” he went on. “A friend of Corra’s.” Finn’s eyes swung back to Raisa to gauge her reaction.

Her frown hadn’t left, but she was regarding Cai with something a little more akin to curiosity. At last, she refocused on Finn. “Alright. But you better have a damn good explanation for this.”

Not particularly in the mood to hear how genius Ren was — especially from Leta — Fiearius grunted, “It’s fine. Just get us the journals, we’ll handle the rest.” Leta opened her mouth to protest, but Fiearius caught her stare and shook his head. The last thing they needed was another ARC-induced outburst.

She asked Ren, “Where did you hide them then?”

“Remember that old library we used to study in?”

Fiearius wished he hadn’t noticed the pink flush in Leta’s face.

“Of course. You hid them there? But that place is huge, where–”

“Where do you think?”

They paused, and the deep blush in Leta’s neck was impossible to ignore.

“I was sort of hoping one day you’d find them,” he said quietly.

Finally, Fiearius decided he couldn’t take much more of this exchange. He pushed himself to his feet. “Well,” he muttered, looking around at them all. “Back to Vescent then.”

———–

Seconds after the Beacon’s ramp lowered to touch ground in the vast, dusty hangar of the Conduit — the old abandoned ship that now acted as a homebase for freed allies — Finn was stalking down it, face clouded in determination. Without hesitation he started to the main doors where the guards were already watching him with curiosity. The Conduit didn’t particularly like visitors, but Finn had no choice but to invite himself inside: if anyone knew where Corra was, it was the Conduit’s leader and Corra’s mother-like figure from her own enslavement, Raisa. He was sure of it.

Of course, he’d asked Raisa before. When he realized his co-captain had disappeared without a trace, Raisa was among the first people he’d called. If Corra wasn’t with Leta on Vescent and she wasn’t on the Dionysian with Cyrus, she most certainly had fled to the Conduit to offer her help. It was the obvious choice. Raisa, however, had been less than accommodating, informing him that she was not at liberty to discuss Conduit members with outsiders. The matter, since, was dropped.

But this time would be different. This time she would answer.

Footsteps followed him down the ramp. Finn spared a glance over his shoulder and was surprised to see Cai starting after him, eyeing him uncertainly. Daelen and Alyx were nowhere in sight. Hell, he hadn’t even seen Alyx in days. Finn knew he was being reckless, potentially careless, but he didn’t care — not when he was this close to having answers. He had to know how Corra had found Callahan. How she’d killed him. What she’d been up to. And why she’d left when he needed help the most.

The armed guards flanking the door eyed him as he approached. One of them nodded at Finn and asked, “Hello. Your ally ID?”

But then he glanced at Finn’s right ear and noticed that it was fully intact — absent the cut that signified enslavement. The man set his jaw with suspicion. “Who’re you? What can we help you with?”

“Finnegan Riley. I need to speak with Raisa.”

The two guards exchanged bemused glances.

“Sorry sir, outsiders need prior approval to enter the facilities.”

Finn bristled with irritation. The Beacon must have still been in the Conduit’s approved-for-docking list. Apparently, that didn’t extend to its captain. “I have approval and I need to talk to her,” he lied simply, but neither of them seemed to buy it.

Cai, who had been hovering behind Finn, finally stepped forward. “It’s concerning an ally who may be here,” Cai put in, considerably more polite than his counterpart.

One of the guards fixed her attention on Cai and Finn could tell even from here where her eyes traveled. “You’re welcome to come inside and look for yourself, sir,” she offered to Cai.

Before Cai could answer, Finn stepped in front of him in a haste and cut in harshly, “No, I need to be there. I have to talk to Raisa.”

Which was apparently the wrong thing to do. The male guard adjusted his grip on his gun threateningly. “Is this man bothering you, sir?” he asked Cai, though his eyes never left Finn. “Know that inside these doors, you are granted full amnesty, freedom and protection from people like this.” He jutted the end of his gun in Finn’s direction with such an expression of disgust, he immediately jumped to his own defense.

“What?!” he demanded. “I’m not–god, I’m not a slaver, I–”

And that was apparently the wrong word to mention.