Brightly Burning(80)
“There’s a problem,” the captain said after his own long draw of tea. “Sergei here just informed me that you are being charged with treason. The government wishes to extradite you to the Olympus for trial for leaking the news about the virus.”
“What?” I said to a twin shout from outside the door, muffled through the metal. Then the door cracked open, and Jon came rushing in.
“That is bullshit. She’s not the one who sent it to the press.” Jon defended me well, though we both knew it was a mere technicality that the messages had come from Joy’s account. Jon and I had sent them. The captain knew it too.
“Stella was the only person to leave the Rochester, and shortly thereafter, the whole fleet knew about the virus and how it was being used. They’re saying you incited panic, which is a treasonous act.”
“I’ve been here for almost two months. Why did they wait to charge me?”
“I think they were hoping you wouldn’t make it through,” Captain Karlson replied.
“So you’re sending me away?” I asked.
The captain frowned. “Of course not. They’ll have to lay siege to this ship if they want you.”
“This is why it’s not safe for me to take you, Stella,” Sergei chimed in. “The news is not yet public, but soon your face will be splashed across every feed in the fleet.”
I digested this information, which gave new definition to the idea of being trapped. It also removed any choice I might have had in the matter—?I was going down to Earth, as soon as we found a way. It was no longer safe for me anywhere on the fleet.
I would never see Hugo again.
No, that was unacceptable. I’d spent the last two months with my heart shattered into a million pieces, unable to reconcile my feelings with what I thought Hugo had done. I needed to go to him, now that I knew the truth.
“Then my window is short, isn’t it? Until the news is public. Now is the only time you can take me to him. Sergei, is he close?”
He looked like he didn’t want to tell me, but finally he acquiesced. “I came from the Lady Liberty. It’s a short trip.”
“I’ll go with you,” Jon jumped in excitedly. “It wouldn’t be that hard to get a visa for someone who isn’t Stella, and two of us going will lessen any suspicion. We can get you a cover identity.”
“And what reason should I give for these two people to take a vacation aboard the Lady Liberty?” The captain was clearly skeptical.
“Jobs,” Sergei said, the mischievous glint I was accustomed to seeing back in his eyes. “There are many postings to replace the dead.” He paused briefly, out of respect, bowing his head.
“Yes, that’s it.” Jon clapped his hands together excitedly. “Say it’s me and, I don’t know, Joy taking an informational meeting with their engineering corps. And it’ll give me a chance to ask around, try to find us a ship that can manage reentry. Kill two birds with one stone.”
The captain nodded. “I have a contact I was hoping to meet with in person. I hadn’t had time since the quarantine ended, but this would work.”
I couldn’t believe this was happening. “I’m ready to go.”
“Tomorrow morning,” the captain said. “I’ll have the visas by then. You’ll be on a twenty-four-hour countdown clock.”
“Jane Elliot,” Sergei greeted me the next morning with a nod as Jon and I stepped onto his shuttle. My alias was plain, but it would do. I was taking on the identity of one of our fieldworkers who had already been on a shortlist for a job interview.
The trip was short, pushing close to an hour only because we ended up in a holding pattern before we were permitted to dock. It gave me time to get the Lady Liberty in my sights, take her in, this famous ship that Hugo owned. She was wholly unlike any other vessel in the fleet, more space station than ship, multiple resident wings circling a central vertical column, capped on top by a dome-like structure. We docked in the middle, where immediately the hustle and bustle of the packed American ship became apparent. The transport bay was full of ships, packages, and crew; beyond the doors came the echo of activity. No one paid us much mind, nor did anyone hear as I prompted Sergei and Jon to set the twenty-four-hour countdowns on the closed-circuit comms we’d borrowed from Captain Karlson. Then Jon and I left Sergei behind as we proceeded to customs screening.
Customs was quiet, unsurprisingly, given it was seven a.m., but the scarcity of people only meant the agent on duty paid extra care and attention to the two of us.
“You’re twenty-eight,” he said, looking down his nose at me and alternately scrutinizing the tab in front of him. The captain had altered Jane Elliot’s travel file to bear my picture, but being no hacker, he left the rest of her files untouched. I sat, trying not to squirm, affecting my best calm and normal face, hoping the customs officer didn’t look any further past my visa file. Or rather, Jane’s visa file.
“I’ve always looked young,” I answered. “Had to cut my hair short just so people would take me seriously.” Hopefully Jon hadn’t been lying about it making me look older. I was banking on it.
“And you’re here about a job?” he continued, seeming no less skeptical than before.
“We both are,” Jon chimed in. “I’m sure you’ve heard the Stalwart is on its last legs. We’re not crazy enough to go down to Earth, but we can’t just transfer to any other ship. We need to get hired.”