This Shattered World (Starbound #2)(46)
“I’m okay.” Another lie. A few weeks ago I would’ve been comforted by my commander taking a personal interest in me. Now it feels like she can see through my treachery, straight to the truths I’m hiding.
Towers nods, watching me a moment longer before letting her eyes fall to the floor between us. “I’m sorry about Lieutenant Alexi. I know you two had a history.”
I fight to keep my throat from closing. Giving my head a brisk shake to clear it of the image of Alexi’s ruined face, I say shortly, “Thank you, sir.”
“We’re still trying to figure out how it happened. Why it happened. The bomber—this Quinn man—came out of nowhere. We’ve got footage of him walking toward the barracks, right up until the explosion happened, and there’s nothing. Our best behavioral researchers are analyzing it and there’s just nothing there—no hidden aggression, no signs of guilt, nothing to suggest he was about to murder dozens of people.”
I grit my teeth. It matches what Cormac said, that Quinn couldn’t have been the bomber, that he wasn’t the type. And yet, he was found with the detonator in what was left of his hand. Could it be he didn’t know what he was doing?
“This place,” murmurs Commander Towers, her eyes shifting to gaze past me. “It’s eating away at us, bit by bit.”
“Someone has to be here, sir.” But it’s a pale comfort when even in the depths of the security office we can both still smell the burning plastene. It clings to our hair, our clothes, ingrained in the pores of our skin.
Towers’s eyes snap back to mine, and she nods shortly. “Of course. Sometimes I just wonder how long it’ll take for Avon to consume us all.”
It’s unlike her to be so pensive. It’s one of the things I like about the commander, that she and I are both outward people, preferring action to introspection, momentum to idle consideration. And yet here she is, her shoulders sagging a little, her eyes seeking mine as though I have answers for her.
But I’ve got nothing. For a wild instant, the truth bubbles up inside me, begging to be let out. I press my lips together tightly.
Commander Towers sighs, straightening. “Chase, I wanted to ask you about what you said during your debriefing after your capture and subsequent escape.”
I try not to stiffen noticeably. “Sir?”
“You mentioned that the rebel thought we had some kind of base or facility out to the east.”
I lean forward a little, unable to conceal the sudden spark of excitement leaping inside my rib cage. She knows something. “Yes, sir.”
She leans forward a little too, mirroring my body language, picking up on all my cues. She’s far more skilled than I am at interrogation and manipulation. I have to watch my step. I let my hands dangle where my elbows are resting on my knees. Casual. Easy.
“I’ve been wondering why he’d think that,” she continues. “It seems an odd thing to believe. The locals know the terrain here so well.”
I hesitate. She’ll see it, know it’s uncharacteristic of me, know I’m hiding the truth. But there’s too much to consider. On the one hand, Towers could be an ally. I’m only a captain—but she’s the commander of an entire outpost here on Avon, and if she’s alerted to the possibility of a LaRoux Industries facility out there below the radar, she could be the key to finding out more.
But what if she’s in on whatever strange conspiracy is unfolding out in the fens? Surely the person in charge of the base would have to be a part of the con?
I clear my throat. “That’s what he said.” I have to tread carefully, watching her face for any reaction, however small, that might tell of what she knows. “Sounded crazy to me too, but I went along with it while I waited for my chance.”
Commander Towers doesn’t react, listening to me with what seems to be polite interest and no more. Still, there’s the faintest of twitches along her jaw, and my eyes seize on it.
“I’m sure there was nothing in it,” I say dismissively, leaning back in my chair again. “Not unlike the fairy tales they tell to keep themselves company in the evenings. Stories about how they keep moving it and it’s never in the same place twice, that sort of thing.”
Towers nods. “Anything else?”
I shake my head. “Only rumors.”
The commander straightens, running a hand over her hair and then getting to her feet. “Thank you, Captain.”
I scan her face, looking for something, anything, that will explain her sudden interest and her just as sudden dismissal. There’s little to read there—the men call me Stone-faced Chase, but I’ve got nothing on Towers when it comes to playing our cards close to our chests. But her gaze moves too quickly, lips thin, shoulders rounded more than usual. She’s on alert, edgy. And I don’t think it’s solely from the bombing.
“Of course, sir. I don’t think it’s anything to worry about, though. Just stories.”
She nods, lips curving in the barest hint of a smile. “Understood, Captain. Carry on—I’ll be in touch.”
I can’t explain why, but I have the strongest sense she’s not involved. That she’s every bit as driven as I am to find out what’s happening out there. Her movements are quick, jerky, anxious. She wants to be out of here as badly as I want her to go. I haven’t forgotten why I’m really here.