Aurora Burning (The Aurora Cycle #2)(22)

“If I may, Imperatrix?” the manager says, holding up a tiny swab.

“Of course you may,” she smiles, jutting out her chin and forming a perfect pout. The manager touches the swab to her lips.

“Seven one eight four alpha,” she purrs.

The manager nods, turns to the appropriate hatch. As he presses the DNA swab to the receptor, I find myself holding my breath. If this is some kind of ruse, if we are forced to fight our way out of here—

The diode on the door shifts from red to blue. I hear an electronic trill as the compartment unlocks. The manager smiles, and I open the hatch, dragging out a long metal box from inside.

“My husband is terrible with dates,” Scarlett says, tapping her lip. “Could you be a dear and tell me how long ago he made this deposit for me?”

“Of course.” The manager consults his uniglass. “This box was acquired … 17/9/2372.”

“Seventy-two?” I frown. “But that was eight years ago.”

Scarlett gives a sharp snap on the leash. “Thank you, Germaen, we can count. Now hush your tongue or there’ll be no punishment for you tonight!”

I bite down on my protest as she turns to the manager, smiling sweetly.

“Some privacy, if we may?”

With a bow and a small smile, the man backs out of the room, leaving us alone. I glance up at the security lenses in each corner, praying to the Void that Finian is as good as we hope him to be. I frown at Scarlett sidelong.

“You are enjoying this far too much,” I mutter.

“You have noooo idea,” Scarlett whispers.

I open the box, checking the contents before we leave. I can see half a dozen packages, each marked with a small tag. TYLER. SCARLETT. KALIIS. FINIAN. ZILA. Another package, marked SQUAD 312.

“This box has waited here for almost a decade,” I say.

“I know,” Scarlett replies, bewilderment in her eyes. “That’s before we knew each other. Before any of us even joined the academy.”

“How?” I demand. “How could Admiral Adams possibly have had your DNA sequence before he ever met you? How could he have known our squad designation? Our names? The fact that we would even be here?”

“If you want to really set your brain to spin,” Scarlett murmurs, voice trembling, “ask yourself how he knew Cat wouldn’t be?”

I glance at the contents of the deposit box again and realize she is correct—I see no package for Zero anywhere. But, under the other bundles, there is a set of passkeys, and a tag with a berth number at the Emerald City docks.

SECTION 6, GAMMA PROMENADE. BERTH 9[A].

I hand the key to Scarlett, my mind racing. “Whatever is happening here, at least Adams saw fit to supply us with a ship. That is a beginning.”

Scarlett glances up to the cams. “We better get moving.”

I nod, shut the lid, and sling the box under one arm. We make our way from the deposit room, Scarlett in front, me stalking obediently behind. As we walk back out into the foyer, Finian looks up at us, relief plain on his face. Zila is nowhere to be seen, but Aurora and Tyler are on the thoroughfare outside. Aurora is still gesticulating wildly, her outrage only slightly muted by the glass.

“She’s having more fun than I am.” Scarlett smiles.

The pair of us walk calmly across the vast foyer, each step toward the door seeming a mile. Finian stands slowly, limping to the other exit. The crowd around us mills and sways; the manager smiles farewell. And it seems, for the moment, we may have succeeded in our deception. We may be home free.

“May I ask you a question?” I say softly.

“You’re not going to ask me to marry you, are you?” Scarlett murmurs.

“No. And I know it is foolish to ask this now. But we are seldom alone, and there may be little opportunity to ask another time.”

“This sounds serious.”

I swallow hard, suddenly and deeply uncomfortable. “I have done much reading on … human courting. But there is a vast gulf between the written word and reality. And you seem … well acquainted with romantic entanglements.”

“That’s a nice way to put it.” I catch a smirk at the corner of Scarlett’s mouth. “This is about Aurora, right?”

I sigh. Even the sound of her name makes my heart swell. “Yes.”

“You got a case of the mad lurrrve.”

“I am … very fond of her, yes.”

We are almost to the door now, Scarlett speaking under her breath. “I’m probably not the person to ask for advice on this one, Muscles. I’ve never been in a relationship that lasted longer than seven weeks.”

“You are a human girl,” I say desperately. “You know what human girls like.”

The doors slide open before us, and Scarlett looks over her shoulder, eyebrow raised. “We’re not a monolith, Kal, we—”

Her words are cut short as she bumps into a small figure entering the Repository. I hear a growl of outrage, look down to see a small female gremp, surrounded by a dozen others.

“Oh, pardon me, darling,” Scarlett says.

The lead gremp stands perhaps a meter tall, which is large for her species. The tortoiseshell fur covering her body is perfectly coiffed under her pearl-white suit. Her pale green eyes are edged with dark powder and have the gleam of someone who feeds people to her pets for sport.