Hours later, long after they’d checked into their hotel room and gone to sleep, Fiearius cracked open his eyes and half-scowled in confusion. The room was shadowy and dim, but he felt immediately that the space beside him in bed was empty. In fact, he realized as he scanned the room, the whole room was empty. Leta was missing.

With a jolt of panic, Fiearius sat up. In one motion, he threw his hand to the bedside table, grabbed his pistol, and launched to his feet. She was gone. How was it possible? How had he lost her again?

He’d stalked halfway to the door when he heard movement from the bathroom. Heart hammering, he pivoted to the door and pushed it open. The scene that met his eyes made him halt in place and exhale in relief.

Leta blinked at him curiously from where she was comfortably sunk into a steaming hot bath. Murky soapy water went up her collarbone, and she was leaning back against the porcelain, her long legs angled over the lip of the tub.

“Are you alright?” she asked blankly, sitting up and making the water splash around her. “Fiear, why do you have — ?” She flashed a look at the gun in his hand.

“No reason,” Fiearius grunted, feeling stupid as he quickly placed the pistol to the side on the bathroom counter. He had no intention of telling Leta about his moment of panic, especially when she was perfectly fine and looking more like herself than she had in hours with her cheeks flushed a healthy pink from the steam, her long damp hair loosening from its messy bun. For a moment, he just stood there in the doorway, admiring the beautiful woman bathing in the ridiculously large bathtub. Fiearius wasn’t exactly a fan of baths, but…

“That looks nice,” he remarked thoughtfully. “Mind if I join you?” Without waiting for an answer, he crossed over the floor and started peeling off his clothes.

“No, don’t, you’ll turn the water brown,” Leta protested playfully, but when he lowered himself into the warm water and joined her on the submerged bench, she immediately moved to sit between his legs and sat back against his chest, heaving a long, relaxed sigh. It was the first time she seemed to truly relax since she’d returned from Vescent, Fiearius realized, wrapping his arms around her waist.

“This is better,” she said softly, closing her eyes for a moment as she sank further against him. “Gods, when I was stuck on Vescent, this is all I could think about. Being with you again. And how I thought I might not be able to.”

“But here we are,” said Fiearius. He leaned his mouth against the nape of her neck.

“Here we are,” Leta agreed, and took a deep breath. “Tell me something good, please.”

“Good? Right, okay. Well. Nobody you know has died recently,” he said, and Leta snorted a laugh. “That’s good. From what I hear, the better candidate won the election for Governor in Tarin Proper. I reached level eighty in Spaceship Wars. There’s a meteor shower on Paraven this week, supposedly very rare, once in a century kind of thing. Oh and my brother got a girl to like him, also very rare, once in a century kind of thing.”

Leta’s ringing laugh echoed around the bathroom. “That’s not nice of you.”

“Hey, I have actively encouraged the little bastard to get himself a girlfriend for the past four years.”

“That ‘little bastard’ is your flesh and blood, you know,” Leta said composedly, elbowing him in the ribcage. “And you don’t exactly give him a lot of time and space to take women out whenever he wants … Which isn’t fair,” she added, throwing him a good-naturedly stern look. “You find the time for it.”

“Cyrus has plenty of time to take out women,” Fiearius scoffed. “You think I make him stay down in that engine room all the time? He does that to himself. He prefers doing that. I ask him to come out and experience the real world with me and he says no. Which is why I’ve got good feelings about this cute engineer girl. She lets him stay in his comfort zone and interact with women. It’s perfect.”

“Well it’s not exactly easy to meet people when you’re traveling in the middle of nowhere space.”

“Right. Which is why I prefer to kidnap my prospective lovers.”

Leta laughed. “You had no idea that you and I would end up together.”

“What are you talking about?” he asked with a teasing grin. “You were into me from the first day we met. Don’t bother denying it, there were so many clues. The yelling, the angry glares, that time you said you’d rather shoot yourself then sleep with me? We were inevitable.”

“Inevitable? Fiear, I was engaged. To be married.”

“Eh.” Fiearius shrugged a shoulder, then dropped it back into the water with a splash. “I knew it’d work out somehow.”

“And while we’re on the subject,” said Leta, a playful lilt in her voice, “it was you who was into me, not vice versa.”

Fiearius grinned. “Well can you blame me?” He leaned over to kiss her neck. “It’s not everyday someone who both pisses me off and fires me up ends up on my ship.”

“You know, I don’t know why you let me aboard at all.” Her voice grew distant with the memory — the vivid memory Fiearius shared. They first met with Fiearius atop the ramp, his arm infected, in the middle of a yelling match with his brother. He’d spared her the shortest glance before muttering fine, she could come.

“No idea,” said Leta. “I still wonder sometimes.”

Fiearius barked a laugh, but then he found himself knitting his brow with thought. He wasn’t actually sure he knew what the real answer was. He’d never liked doctors. He never wanted someone else from a Society planet on his ship. He was wary of strangers. And Leta had been all three when he let her come aboard that fateful night.

“Fever-induced madness?” he offered, but he knew that wasn’t quite it. “But — who cares, yeah? As long as you’re here now, I don’t regret a thing,” he said, leaning in to kiss the spot where her shoulder met her neck.

“Funny, isn’t it,” said Leta softly, “how the Dionysian of all places in the Span turned out to be the place I feel most at home.”

“Well she’s happy to have ya,” Fiearius assured her. “For as long as you need.”

“It had to be me, Cy. No one else could’ve made it to Vescent undetected.” Addy hesistated. Then she said, “And besides, all of you are so brave. Leta and Fiearius, standing up for what they believe in. Corra, running her own ship. Seeing them …” A smile wavered past her face. “I guess I wanted to be brave, too. Sometimes it feels like — like I’ve always taken the safe route.”

“Safe route?” Cyrus repeated. “Addy, you fled Satieri, that’s hardly a safe route.”

“I didn’t have a choice in that. I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to stay on Satieri and go to school and work on ships. When my dad told me I had to go, I screamed at him, Cy because it wasn’t what I wanted. I was horribly selfish. I still am.”

“Well, yeah,” Cyrus muttered, unsure. “But still–”

“And maybe you are too,” Addy went on, ignoring him. “Maybe you’ve done some selfish things, we all have. What happened on Vescent, that was bad, but you didn’t just do it for you, you did it for us. For me and for Leta. And you want to talk about selfless acts? Didn’t you go to Satieri to save your brother when he was captured? How is that any different?”

“It’s totally different,” he argued. “I wasn’t alone, for starters. And I–I was afraid of what would happen to me without him.”

Addy scoffed. “That’s not true. I know that’s not true.” She cupped his cheeks in her hands. “Cyrus, you are brave and courageous and caring and I’ve seen firsthand what you’ll do for those you love. You’ve made some hard choices, we all have. But you are not selfish. And you are not rude. And that Delia woman can shove it.”

Cyrus could do nothing but stare at her in wonder and disbelief. No one had ever told him anything quite like that before. But as passionate and convicted as she sounded, the first thing he was able to utter was, “Okay, but–”

Addy groaned, dropping her hands from his face and slumping her head in defeat.

“No, listen, it’s not that,” Cyrus tried to argue, but she no longer seemed to be listening.

Instead, she was getting out of bed. He sat up too, watching as Addy moved her feet to the floor and stood up, planting her hands on her hips, as he went on, “Addy, look. Those things I did, the good things, they were just–”

Cyrus blinked as Addy abruptly grabbed the bottom hem of her tank top and started to lift it over her head, revealing the bare skin of her stomach and chest. “–well they were–” And then, she tossed the piece of clothing aside. “– they were — “

Cyrus forgot his words entirely as his mouth dropped open. He sat on the edge of her bed, drinking in the sight of her fair naked skin as he choked, “What are you–?”

“Oh, now I have your attention,” she said, smirking with the corner of her mouth. “Cyrus. Listen to me. You are a good person. A kind person. A brave person. Okay?”

Cyrus’ eyes flicked up to her face, with some difficulty. “But–”

“Okay?” she stressed again, and this time he mustered a small, weak nod.

“Good.” Addy grinned. Then she leaned down, placed her palms on his shoulders and kissed him so heatedly that Cyrus forgot that he’d been upset at all. Or that being upset was ever a possibility. What could he ever be upset about, really, when Addy was here, nearly naked, kissing him and now lowering to sit on his lap?

“Wait,” he muttered, but without much conviction. “I thought we were taking it slow?”

“We were,” Addy said softly, hooking her fingers around the collar of his shirt. “But then you nearly got yourself killed. And now I want to take it a little faster.”

Cyrus couldn’t agree more. He didn’t argue. Instead, he pressed his lips to hers, put his hands on her hips and drew her gently to his lap.

————–

In the darkness of Fiearius’ bedroom, Leta stared at the ceiling, wide-awake and alert as if it were the middle of the day. She felt like crawling the walls, but she took to staring at them instead, as Fiearius slept with his arm thrown over her hip. She could feel the slow inhale and exhale of his breath as she twisted her legs around the sheets. She turned to her side, then to her other side, then to her back …

But sleep would not claim her. She couldn’t even keep her eyes closed. Just when she was considering getting up entirely, Fiearius spoke against her neck.

“You alright?” he muttered. His voice was muffled, but he sounded awake. He’d woken her up like this a thousand times before (usually for one reason in particular … )  but this time, he seemed to understand. “Can’t sleep?”

“I don’t know why,” she admitted, pinching the bridge of her nose with two fingers. “I should be exhausted.”

But she could not stop her mind from reeling. Images of Vescent kept flashing past her eyes. Fiearius must have sensed her unease, because he sat up on his elbows.

“Well,” he sighed, “we could go for a walk if you’d like? Always helps me. Fresh air does a person good. Or I can make you something to eat? How about a mind-numbing game? Alternatively,” he grinned in the darkness, “plenty of physical activity we could do right here.” He patted the bed with his hand. “Take your pick.”

Leta rolled onto her back and pulled the corners of her lips into a faint, agreeable smirk. The truth was — and she had no desire to share this with Fiearius — that she was a little weary of what would happen if they became intimate already. After what had happened on the dock of the Dionysian when they’d been reunited (she’d actually physically pushed him away, how was that possible?), she was worried being too close would trigger — well, whatever that incident had been. She truly had no idea. And it was only part of the reason why she could not find sleep.

Her smirk thinned from her face, but not out of any sort of displeasure. “Actually – a walk would be nice,” she answered, hoping those words were true, as she sat up and slid her legs toward the edge of the bed. Maybe it would help stem some of her roiling energy. Maybe it would quiet her mind.

She hoped so, at least, as they descended the Dionysian’s open ramp together ten minutes later. Outside, the evening air was pleasantly chilly, and the city lay in silence at this hour of the night.

They began to half-walk, half-wander through the empty cobblestone streets and admire the tall darkened buildings, hand-in-hand. Comfortable silence hung between them, until Leta said, “Maybe — I’m just not used to being back on the Dionysian yet.” It was the first words either of them had spoken in several minutes. “Maybe that’s why I can’t sleep. I mean, I was sharing a bed with your brother before, after all.”

“Don’t remind me,” Fiearius snorted.

Leta gave his hand a small, playful swing, trying to brighten her own spirits. “So, are you going to tell me everything I missed while I was gone on my vacation?”

“Vacation?” Fiearius repeated. “Is that what we’re calling it now?”

“I’m trying to keep things light.”

He shrugged his acceptance. “Not sure I really want to say what you missed. Hardly my proudest moments…Though I will tell you that you missed out on Corra nearly shooting me in the head when she found out Addy was gone.”

“Corra — she — what?” Leta sputtered. “Was she trying to miss?”

“That, or her accuracy’s going bad.” He grimaced. “Hoping it’s the former…” A concerned frown came over him, but he shrugged it off and squeezed her hand tighter. “Anyway, I’m just glad you’re back. Both of you. All three of you.”

They slowed to a stop, pausing on the edge of a dock that overlooked water. The wind picked up, tossing Leta’s hair over her face as she stared at the lapping waves.

“It doesn’t — really feel like I’m back,” she said at last. “It feels like when I wake up tomorrow, I’ll still be trapped in Delia’s apartment.”

She could feel him watching her.

“Vescent is nothing like it was, Fiear,” she went on, turning towards him. “It didn’t feel like home at all. And I saw them execute someone in the street.”

She spoke rather plainly — after all, this was Fiearius, who had seen his fair share of horror and bloodshed. If anyone could handle this mental image, it was him. It was part of why she felt so comfortable with him in the past few hours. That familiar magnetic draw pulled her in, and when he wasn’t at her side, she found herself missing his company, seeking him out.

She could not say the same for the rest of the crew. Amora, Rhys, Finn, even Corra — Leta found every single person to be jarring, noisy.  She felt too jumpy and unnerved to spend more than five minutes with anyone but Fiearius, who seemed to understand that she had been favoring the quiet.

“You’ll feel back to normal soon enough,” he answered easily. “Give it time. The dust will settle.”

Leta rubbed her palms together, a gesture of nerves. Her eyes grew distant as she added, “I don’t know what they did to me, Fiear, but it’s making me feel crazy. Like what I did when I saw you the first time — ” She flashed him a look of apology. “Gods, I’m sorry.”

“Hey, s’okay,” he said at once, taking her hands in his and pulling her closer. “It’s just a reaction, I know that. It’s just hard to tell reality from fiction with that shit…I get it. Trust me, I get it…”

Abruptly, the line of Fiearius’ sight shifted; he was staring at something over her head.

“You know what might help you?” he asked suddenly. “A change of scenery. No cramped ship hallways, no cluttered quarters, someplace actually clean. Something entirely different than what you’re used to. Y’think?”

Leta followed his line of vision and realized he was looking at a tall illuminated building, glowing invitingly. The sign boasted it as a beachfront resort.

“Wait — really? You’re saying we should get a hotel room?” said Leta wondrously. She was certain no one on the Dionysian stayed in hotels. Or even motels. The crew was more likely to pass out on the street curb.

“And how, exactly, do you expect to pay for it?” she demanded. “Or did you pick up an extra job while I was on that vacation?”

“I have my ways. How about it?”

She had to admit there was something terribly tempting about the idea. In a clean hotel room, Vescent wouldn’t exist. There’d be no reminders of the Society.

And so, after stalling on the street for a moment, Leta shrugged one shoulder and turned for the building.

“If this is just an act to seduce me … ” she trailed off warningly.

“Me? Try to seduce you? What in the span are you on about?” He slipped his arm around her waist. “Unless you’d like me to, in which case, yes.”

In the lobby of the hotel, Leta could not contain her amazement as she watched Fiearius speak with the clerk behind the desk. Fiearius scanned a CID, the man handed him a set of keys, and suddenly Leta found herself walking with him down a long, lushly carpeted hallway.

She could not imagine how Fiearius was paying to stay even one night in a place so elegant. But then, when they reached the elevator, the clerk called out, “Have a good night, Mr. Riley,” to which Leta blinked.

“What did he just say?” she hissed as the elevator doors dinged open. “Did he just call you Riley? As in Finnegan Riley? Did you — did you steal Finn’s bank account?”

Fiearius’ grin was wider than the Dionysian.  “You must be hearing things, I’ve no idea what you mean.”

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

“Well when’s that gonna be?!” someone beside Leta yelled back. “Where are they?!”

Ducking away quickly, Leta looked to Cyrus and Addy.

“How’re we going to get through the blockade?” Addy whispered.

“We can just make a run for it?” Cyrus suggested, but Leta shook her head.

“They’ll grab us. There are too many of them.”

Cyrus glanced back at them, his face wrought with indecision as he pushed the glasses up his nose. Finally, that familiar look of epiphany started to light his eyes, a look that reminded Leta of Fiearius, as he said, “There’s a lot of us too.”

“What?” Addy whispered, but Leta thought she understood: there were not many Society commanding officers. Ten, fifteen, at best. But there was a whole crowd of angry people …

Suddenly, in a powerful voice Leta would not have expected from him, Cyrus stood back and bellowed, “We won’t stand for this!”

A few people looked towards where he was crammed into the crowd and he hastily ducked a few inches to avoid their gaze. But there was already a general murmur of agreement. “We won’t be treated like this!” he went on, altering his voice a little. Someone on the other side of the alley confirmed, “We won’t!”

Another woman up front cried, “We’ve had it with you lot! Had it!”

The commanding officer’s face darkened. “Calm down. We’ll let you through as soon as–”

“Not soon enough!” shouted Cyrus, and this time a chorus of cheers followed him. Leta watched him, half-horrified, half-amazed.

“You can’t keep us here!” cried another voice, followed by, “We’re getting through and we’re getting on those ships, no matter what!”

The crowd was rippling with movement and noise, and then Leta felt a surge of pressure on her back; people were pushing forward.

“I think it’s working!” Addy whispered, both terrified and hopeful, as she grabbed ahold of Leta’s arm and Cyrus’ shoulder. People were moving from all directions now, and yells filled the area, a din of anger.

“Settle down!” roared the commander up front as his wall of agents started to get pushed back themselves. “Settle down or we’ll be forced to take action!”

“You can’t control us!” roared one man, raising his fist in the air. And then it happened.

The first gunshot seemed to shock every person in the crowd. The crowd screamed, then ducked to the ground. The second gunshot that cracked in the air made yells of anger erupt as suddenly the sea of people launched forward.

In the chaos, Leta quickly seized Addy’s hand as people began to fight their way forward. Cyrus led the way, gritting his teeth as he shoved people sideways.

“Get to the shuttle on the left, hurry!” he shouted over his shoulder.

Bodies shoved into one another. In the disorder, Leta fleetingly lost sight of Cyrus and Addy, and she spun around.

What she found made a yell of alarm erupt in her throat. Addy, struggling against a commander’s arms, fighting for freedom. Horrified, Leta immediately shoved forward to help her but before she could, Cyrus’ voice rang out over the crowd.

“Let her go!” he growled, and cracked his knuckles across the man’s face. In nearly the same motion, he seized Addy’s wrist, reached out to grab Leta’s and darted onward towards a ship Leta didn’t recognize.

Short of breath, panicking, the three of them clambered up the ramp into the small fighter ship. Cyrus lunged forward to hit the control pad, closing the heavy door behind them, sealing them inside the ship.

“Are you okay?” he breathed, turning to Addy in particular, who was massaging her neck where the man had grabbed her.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” said Addy, quickly turning toward the front of the ship. “We need to get in the air.”

Cyrus nodded in agreement, but he didn’t yet move. Even with the door closed, the din of the outside was still audible. Bursts of gunfire, screaming. Cyrus stood there, totally quiet, as though listening to it. His eyes were on the ground and his breath seemed caught in his chest. He must have felt Leta watching him, because he finally looked up, locked eyes with her, frowned resolutely and had to turn away.

She saw guilt in his face, and she knew why: he’d caused this chaos.  Leta could think of nothing to say, but she squeezed his shoulder.

“You can fly this thing?” Cyrus asked as he joined Addy at the control panels.

“Well enough,” was Addy’s response as she busied herself at the console. “I just need to override the docking security…”

Cyrus nodded again and looked back at Leta, seemingly about to say something, when suddenly there was a loud banging to her left. She jumped backwards, ramming into the opposite wall.

“Open up!” came the muffled voice from the outside. “We know you’re in there! Open up, surrender and we may show mercy!”

Leta met Cyrus’ stare, wide-eyed. “Can you override it faster?” Cyrus breathed.

“Fast as I can,” Addy insisted, her fingers tapping away furiously.

The banging got louder. “Open this door!” shouted the voice again. The noise was filling the whole cabin. Leta could see the whole door mechanism shuddering at the impact.

“Addy…” Cyrus warned again, but Addy just shouted, “A few more seconds!”

“This is your last chance to open this door before I fucking blow it off!” shouted the voice.

Leta and Cyrus shared a look of alarm, but finally, Addy shouted, “Got it!” and the floor of the ship roared to life.

“Get us out of here!” Cyrus yelped. As the ship lifted from the docks, Cyrus and Addy began cheering: they were truly leaving Vescent.

In silence, Leta watched wisps of cloud dart past the window, and she sank against the wall in exhaustion.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Hours or seconds later (really — it could have been days), Leta forced open her heavy eyes. Her vision was blurring, but then Cyrus’ face slowly swam into view. He was leaning over her as she slept in a chair, gently shaking her awake.

“You alright?” he asked, and there was a certain joy in his voice she could not understand. Then he said, smiling, “Leta, we made it. We just landed. The Dionysian and the Beacon are outside.”

Leta pinched the bridge of her nose and sat up. She knew she was supposed to leap to her feet, she was supposed to run down the open ramp in excitement. But as she sat up, she felt only shaky, feverish, as if she were getting over a bout of the flu.

“I’ll be right th — ” she muttered, but Cyrus and Addy were hurrying down the ramp. A chorus of happy yells told Leta that the Dionysian crew was waiting outside.

Cautiously, slowly, Leta ventured down the ramp. Standing in the broad shadow of the Beacon, she saw Amora, weeping in happiness and calling her name over and over; Corra, hugging Cyrus and Addy at the same time and jumping up and down; Finn, beaming at her and looking a little faint with relief. Her eyes scanned over their faces, and she was about to open her mouth when she felt a figure — a tall figure — advancing toward her.

She heard Fiearius’ voice saying her name, and she glimpsed messy auburn hair, the utter relief filling his eyes, his arms open to pull her into his chest. But then — her vision went white.

Blinding light filled her eyes. Something — something angry, something feral and scared — roared to life inside of her.

As Fiearius’ hands went to her forearms to pull her into an embrace, she yanked herself away and the words jumped out of her throat before she could stop them. “Get off — no! NO!” she screamed, and she felt everyone spin around, astonished, as Leta fought off her assailant. Her screams pierced the air, choking with sobs. “Don’t — you can’t —  DON’T TOUCH ME!”

Fiearius stepped backwards and put up his palms in surrender, stricken with confusion and horror.

“Leta, it’s me,” he said, his voice calm. “It’s just me. What’s wrong?” He turned to Cyrus, his face darkened. “What happened to her?”

“I–I don’t know,” Cyrus admitted. “She was fine. I mean, the Society had her for a little bit. Twenty, thirty minutes, but, she’s been fine, I don’t know what–”

“Get back!”  Leta felt herself scream, digging her hands into her hair. “Stay away from him, Cyrus!’

Fiearius took in a deep breath and ventured a careful step towards her. She instinctually staggered backwards. “Leta,” he said, his voice even. “Calm down. It’s me. Fiearius. It’s okay.”

“I — but you betrayed — ”

Her voice shook with doubt. Tears swam in her eyes and she slowly lowered her hands from her hair, regarding Fiearius closely, taking in all the parts of him she had long since memorized: the scar jutting through his brow, his tightened jawline, the concern blazing in his eyes. She knew that face. It all came flooding back to her: the jobs on the Dionysian, the days they’d spent joking and teasing each other, that particular barking way he laughed, his stupid nicknames, his smile, his cooking, his hands as they ran down her back.

Her lungs tightened, then she exhaled. “Fiear?” she said quietly, and he nodded at her, as if confirming that yes, it was really him, and yes, she really was home.

Finally, exhaling shakily, she pressed forward and threw her arms around his neck, collapsing into his embrace.

What the hell had they done to her?

Gingerly, she pushed herself to her feet.

Just then, the door banged open, flooding the room with fluorescent light. Leta’s hand flew up to shield her eyes and she felt startled of what could possibly happen next —

But the guard in the doorway looked nothing but friendly.

“Hey, y’alright?” he said, holding open the door. He was a young man, around her age, dressed in dark-colored Society clothing. “Ready to leave? Feeling a little drowsy? I felt like crap after, too, but you get used to it.”

“After what?”

The man continued to smile, but he squinted at her. “You really are drowsy, eh? Come on, time to go. What did you say your name was?”

Leta’s throat was dry.  Her mother’s name — her own middle name — jumped into her mind. “Ella,” she said after a moment.

They stepped into the hallway. Leta looked around quickly, though there were no helpful hints as to where they were: the hallway was empty, white and sterile.

“Now that is a pretty name,” the guard was saying, still grinning. “Nice to meet you, Ella. Surprised I don’t recognize you. You know, I usually — “

“Enough flirting, Rogerson,” came a crisp voice. Footsteps pounded down the tiled floor and an older woman appeared, also in Society clothing, holding a clipboard against her chest. She glanced at the man — Rogerson — with disgust. “Hope he wasn’t bothering you. Are you ready to proceed?” She looked down at her clipboard, and then she held out a handheld scanner.  “You’ll need to get into your uniform. For now we’ll just need to scan your CID.”

Leta opened her mouth, then closed it again, her mind racing. Her identification, they needed her identification. She tried to summon her wits, but her brain felt soggy, like she was moving underwater. The only lie she could summon was, “I forgot it.”

The woman’s eyes shot up.  “You what?”

“I’m afraid that I forgot it.”

“Forgot it?” the woman scoffed.

“She’s a little drowsy,” said Rogerson. “Not thinking straight just yet.”

“You can’t forget the damn thing, it’s in your wrist.”

She reached for Leta’s arm, and it was this gesture that made Leta jolt out of her stupor. Society agents received implanted identification chips — of course. How could she have forgotten? Her father had one. Fiearius had one. She herself did not have one — she’d quit the Society science ward merely weeks before she was to receive it.

“Actually,” she said, thinking quickly and pulling her forearm away, “mine’s not. Never got it implanted. Because of–a blood condition.”

“Hm?” The woman blinked, then narrowed her eyes. “Well. I guess we’ll need to take you over to secondary processing.”

“Will — that take long?” said Leta uncertainly. “I really need to — to — ”

“Catch your ship?” offered Rogerson with tones of sympathy, and Leta nodded quickly. The fool had no idea that he was assisting her.

“Sorry,” said the woman, frowning down at her clipboard. “Rules are rules, can’t let you into the docks without processing.”

“What ship are you on?” asked Rogerson.

“Oh, um — ”

Before Leta could invent a believable Society ship (the Beacon was the only one coming to mind), a shout from the other end of the hall made all three of them spin around.

“There you are!”

Two figures were marching closer, a sight that made Leta’s heart sink: her lies were working on two agents, but surely she’d be sniffed out when more arrived. One was a man in full armored gear of a Society Elite that looked out of place in this quiet hallway, but at his side was a woman who —

Leta’s heart flipped over.

The woman was in commander blues and a Ridellian headscarf Leta recognized instantly. Addy.

And beside her, that must have been Cyrus. They were in disguise. How the hell had they made it here? Leta quickly tried to dissolve the surprise out of her face.

“We’ve been looking all over for you!” scolded Addy, in a voice Leta had never once heard her use. “Do you realize how much trouble you’re in? How late you are? Our entire schedule put off, because you can’t even be bothered to wake up on time. I swear, this is your last warning, agent.”

Rogerson scratched his hair, looking between the two new arrivals in confusion. His stare set on Cyrus who he looked up and down. “Aren’t you a little short to be an Elite?”

Beneath his heavy gear, Cyrus shrugged, while Addy continued to chastise Leta. “If the captain finds out about this? Gods, you’d best hope he doesn’t.”

Leta managed to strike a note of regret. “Sorry, ma’am.”

“Sorry isn’t gonna cut it, agent.” Addy reached out and grabbed her arm, beginning to pull her away. “Let’s just get you onboard before anyone else notices.”

As they turned to leave, the other woman spoke up. “Hang on, there, Commander, she still needs to be processed.”

Addy just looked back with a glare. “We don’t have time for processing. Unless you want to explain to the captain of the Titan why his navigation technician isn’t aboard.”

“Well–” the woman stammered. “No, ma’am, but the rules–”

“Aren’t applicable here,” Addy finished firmly. “We’ll be going now. Have a pleasant day, agent.” Abruptly, she turned on her heel and stalked away down the hall, dragging Leta with her and Cyrus a few steps behind. They made it all the way to the corner before she heard Rogerson say, “Wait a minute. Didn’t the Titan leave for repairs two days ago?”

Leta’s heart sunk. Addy’s grip tightened on her arm. And just as they rounded the corner, there was a shout behind them, “Hey, wait! Come back here!”

Addy, Cyrus and Leta exchanged one wild look of panic. And then, in a clumsy caravan, they bolted.

“Well, that half-worked,” Cyrus called, swiping off his helmet and tossing it behind him as they tore down the corridor.

“When has that plan ever fully worked?” Leta cried.

“Never. And yet we keep trying it,” said Cyrus, sounding hysterical as his feet pounded the floor. “Funny, that.”

“Yes, it’s hilarious, now how do we get out of here?”

Overhead, an alarm began to blare over the speakers, followed by a cold female voice. Attention. Intruders in building A. Code 403. Agents be advised.

“Uh … quickly,” finished Cyrus. “C’mon, let’s go this way.”

Suddenly, Cyrus turned down a corridor and out a pair of double doors, straight into the narrow alley beyond, where voices were bouncing off the walls. Leta could not imagine why Cyrus led them into an alley filled with people — what was he thinking? — but as she staggered to a halt, then caught one look at the scene in front of her, she immediately understood.

Civilians, citizens and even some scattered Society agents themselves were crowded around the east end of the alley that lead to the docks, shouting pleas, yelling profanities and banging their fists in protest. No one spared them a second glance: here, they could blend in.

All around them, the crowd was in an uproar. “This is ridiculous!” “Why can’t we board?” “Come on, let us through!”  “Open up!”

Cyrus slipped into the fray, with Leta and Addy following on his heels. At the head of the crowd, a wall of armed Society agents were forming a barricade in front of the departing ships.

“Everyone remain calm!” yelled a commanding officer, strolling in front of the angry crowd. “You’ll be allowed through as soon as we locate the trespassers!”