Legacy Code (2 page)

Era’s hands shook as she zipped up her suit, and her stomach threatened to eject the quin gruel she’d eaten at first mess. Another week waiting for the answer.

“Medic Faust?” Era licked her lips. She should leave now and not ask, but she had to know. “What are the odds that my baby will—”

“Never call it that. It’s a collection of non-sentient cells.”

Era swallowed. “What are the chances the cells will have the Defect? Has anything changed?”

The medic pressed her lips together, and a dark look passed over her face. “Still fifty percent.” She placed the vial on the tray and opened the door, not making eye contact. “You can check back in one week to schedule your follow-up.”

Era mumbled her thanks and stepped into the corridor. She tried to ignore the dull ache in her womb.

Two women walked toward her, down the corridor. The clerk from population management and a young pregnant woman with dark skin. The size of the gentle rise beneath the woman’s suit suggested her pregnancy was nearly as far along as Era’s. The woman met Era’s eyes and gave her a small nod.

The clerk opened the door to a cubic, and Era glimpsed an exam table and an array of scuffed and dented machines beyond.

“You’ll be sedated,” the clerk said. “When you wake up, it’ll be gone, scraped clean. Easy and quick.”

“Okay. Thank you,” the woman said.

Era rested a hand over the throbbing spot on her belly and quickened her pace, retracing her steps to the waiting area.

Fifty percent. One in two.

One in two died, but that also meant one in two lived.

Even if she had to abort, they’d place her back in the lottery. There’d been more pregnancy approvals lately. They’d lost so many colonists on Soren. Balance needed to be restored.

If this…“collection of cells” had the Defect, she might get another chance. Why, then, didn’t the thought make her feel better?

Era slowed as she reached the waiting area. A crowd had gathered. They stood in front of the benches, blocking her view. She inched around a few of the waiting patients and saw what they saw. Medics, rushing through the doors.

The first medics ran past Era, a stretcher between them, and she caught sight of a guard. He was unconscious, a mask and oxygen pack on his face.

The room tilted around Era, and her nausea intensified. A second pair of medics went by carrying another wounded guard. He had a blanket over his legs, the blue fabric soaked through in places. Blood dripped from the stretcher, leaving a trail of bright red dots that marked the tiles and extended back into the stairwell beyond.

The crowd waited, but no other medics came through the doors. Era pushed past the people in her way and hurried to the stairs. If nothing had happened to Dritan, he’d be waiting for her in their cubic.
Please be there.

Era reached level one, home level for paired couples on the
Paragon
. Her heart pounded as she hurried past the long line of cubics.

A pair of maintenance workers lifted a panel from the wall and blocked her path. They’d stripped half the walls, exposing ancient components and bundles of wiring. A middle-aged tech ran diagnostics at the end of the corridor. From afar, he could’ve been her father working on the
London
. Before the accident.

A hard knot of fear expanded in Era’s chest as she neared their cubic. It only took the swipe of her shift card and a quick glance to see the small space was dark. Empty.

Era leaned against the wall next to their door, eyes closed. The system would have shown she was scheduled for an appointment during midbreak. Someone would have found her, told her if Dritan had been in an accident. Wouldn’t they have?

But no one had told her last time.

She had overheard Zephyr’s father give the orders, and she’d rushed down the stairs, taking them two at a time, to the
London
’s sublevels.

The crowd had gathered in the jumpgate sector. The sector that stayed dormant for decades until the need for another gate arose.

Her father’s body had lain mangled in a pool of his own blood, a red arc of it splattered across the machinery next to him.

No one noticed her standing there. No one except Dritan.

He’d recognized her as the lead tech’s daughter and had pulled her away. She’d cried in his arms, her tears mingling with the grease stains on his green sublevel suit.

He’d been there for her that day and every day after. They’d left the
London
to get away from the accidents, the random acts of violence, the terrorist threats, the deadly Soren work draft. If something had happened to him, if coming here had all been for nothing…

“Era.”

Her breath caught, and she opened her eyes. Dritan strode down the corridor toward her, his expression grim. At the sight of him—his brown skin, the hazel eyes she could lose herself in—the pain in her chest vanished.

He drew her close and pressed his warm lips to hers. She melted into the intensity of his kiss, every muscle in her body relaxing.

“What happened?” she asked, her voice wavering.

“Let’s talk in the cubic.”

Era stepped into their living compartment and felt around for the helio. When her hand found the small, cool sphere, she tapped it and threw it into the air. It hovered next to her like a miniature metal-bound sun, bright streams of light emanating from it. After a moment, it flickered and began to bob.

The dying helio bounced off the wall, and Dritan grunted and snatched it from the air. He opened one of its small, curved panels, pulled out its charging prongs, and inserted them into the receptacle in the wall. The helio lit up again, pulsing every few moments to indicate it wasn’t yet fully charged.

“Damn piece of kak. They better get us a new lume bar soon.” He ran a hand through his tight black curls, pulling on them. “Did you—?”

“The scanner didn’t work. The medic had to do an amnio, so we wait.” Era clenched her hands into fists and studied Dritan’s face. “Where were you? What happened? I was in the stairwell when the alarm went off. I was afraid you…”

Dritan took a few steps to the end of the cubic, grabbed their canteen from the shelf, and took a long drink. He sank down on the bunk and stared straight ahead. “There was a hull breach. My crew got called in to help with the evac.”

Era lifted a hand to her chest and walked over to sit beside him. A hull breach. She’d been right to worry. Dritan’s parents had both died during a botched hull repair. “What level?”

“Six. Executive sector.”

Era clutched the stiff blanket under her. “Is the president…?”

“The president and board were in session, and their chamber locked down. I don’t think there were any deaths. But there were some injuries before…before the breach got temp-sealed. Guards.”

“I saw them come in on medlevel. What happened? I thought they scanned for hull damage a few months ago and fixed all the weak areas.”

“They did.”

“How could they miss this?”

Dritan bit his lower lip and twisted the canteen in his hands. “It wasn’t missed. New panels were just installed in that sector.”

“But if they were new…”

Dritan shifted on the bunk and leaned forward to set the canteen back on the shelf.

“I don’t get it,” Era said. “There shouldn’t have been a breach in a new section of the hull.”

Dritan shrugged, not meeting her gaze.

Era moved closer to him and laid a hand on his arm. “What are you not telling me?”

Dritan finally looked at her and hesitated, studying her face. “Some people are saying it might not have been an accident.”

“Not an accident? What? Like…”

Like the breach that happened on the
Oslo
?
Traitors had blown out a water tank, and it took the fleet months to recover. Era grew thirsty just remembering the way the canteen faucets had run dry at the end of it all. But the
Paragon
was safe. Nothing like that had ever happened here.

Dritan grabbed Era’s hand. “They’re just jumping to conclusions. They don’t know anything. Bunch of execs and guards with no experience in maintenance. Trust me. Everyone in maintenance thinks either the panels or the rivets were weak, or warped. That’s all it would take.”

“Weak metal? So…what? You think they’ll blame this on the
London
?”

He drew up her chin and met her eyes. “I don’t know, and I don’t care. It’s over.”

“Yeah, unless they send your crew out to fix it. I don’t know how you managed to avoid hull duty for so long, but let’s hope your luck holds.”

How
had
he managed to avoid hull duty?

He stiffened, but then his eyes brightened, and he raised his eyebrows. “Hey, maybe they’ll send me to compost next. I’ll bring the fine aroma of kak back to the cubic every night. You’ll be ready to change my suit out for spacegear in no time.”

She let out the breath she’d been holding and gave him a half-smile. “Guess I should watch what I wish for.”

Dritan reached down and unzipped the pocket on his pant leg. He pulled out a folded square of pale green cloth. “Found this in textile recyc today.”

Era took it. “Exec-standard bedding.” She sighed. It was plush, soft, smooth. Only the most senior command level families got this bedding. Era used to go to Zephyr’s cubic just to lie on her bunk.

“You know you can’t keep this. It has to go back to recyc. We’ll be in trouble if they catch us with it. And why’d you take it? It’s just a scrap.”

Dritan plucked the cloth from her hand and unfolded it, spreading it across his lap. He picked up one edge and wiped the soft material along Era’s cheek. “It’s not big enough for us, but it’s just the right size—for someone smaller.”

Era’s chest lightened, and she pressed her lips together to suppress a smile. “Fine. Just…make sure you hide it.”

Dritan grinned and set the scrap aside. He pulled her down onto the bunk and took her hand. He stroked her palm, and she stared at their distorted reflections in the metal ceiling.

If they got through these repairs, if they finished the jumpgate and jumped the fleet, if their baby was healthy and didn’t have the Defect…if all that happened, life would be perfect, or as close as it ever could be. She’d live here on the flagship with her family, searching for a better world, far away from Soren.

Dritan squeezed her hand, three quick pulses. She rolled toward him, met his eyes, and squeezed his hand three times in return.
I. Love. You.

A smile played across his full lips, and he brought her closer, laying both their hands over the swell of her belly.

Would their child have his dark skin or her lighter complexion? Any child of his would be beautiful. She snuggled closer.

Too many ifs. Too soon to think about this.
Just cells, Era
.

“It’s probably almost second shift,” Dritan said. “Shouldn’t ya get going?”

Era groaned and sat up. “Yeah. I told Zephyr I’d meet her before shift.”

“Well, I need to clean up and get to mess before it ends anyway. Just don’t let her get you into any trouble.”

Era leaned in and kissed him again. “I was really worried about you.”

“I’m okay, and you are too. Go on. I’ll see you at last mess.”

She got up, walked to the door, and hit the button. She held her breath, expecting it to jam like it always did, but this time it opened.

Era stepped into the corridor. Fumes from burnt plastic filled her lungs, and she coughed. The pair of workers she’d passed earlier argued in front of the source of the scent—a stretch of wall now marred by singed wires and blackened components.

Era breathed through her mouth until she reached the stairs. Dritan was safe
this
time and
this
hull breach had been temp-sealed, but how long would it be until the next thing went wrong?

Era approached level six, and traffic in the main stairwell slowed to a crawl. Several guards stood outside the doors, blocking the landing. One spoke into his comcuff, and the others watched the passing colonists.

These were new guards. The deep blue fabric of their suits was unfaded, and the silver infinity symbols printed on each sleeve smooth and uncracked. The Paragon Guard had grown a lot in the ten months since Era had transferred here.

Her gaze fell to the nearest guard, to the pulse gun holstered at his belt, and the hairs on the back of her neck lifted. Zephyr’s father had a few pulse guns on the bridge of the
London
, but she’d only seen them once. The day of the riots.

The
Paragon
hadn’t rioted, though. The guards here had kept the people safe.

When she’d finished crossing the landing, she let out a breath and started up the next flight of stairs. The crowd thinned as she approached the observation deck.

Era swiped her card across the scanner, and when the system verified she had free shift, the doors slid open.

Soren loomed across the horizon, the swirling dark-red clouds of its atmosphere warning of the noxious air below.

The jumpgate hung off to the side of the planet. Only half the massive metal circle was complete—extra, unused parts still moored to the work ship.