This Shattered World
Page 39
I swallow, pushing thoughts of him back down. I take a step backward, intending to head for the room where the footage is accessed, but I collide heavily with someone behind me.
“Captain.”
My stomach drops. “Commander.” I step away from her, stiffening to attention automatically.
“I thought I told you to take the next couple days off.” For once, Commander Towers isn’t perfectly put together. Her blond hair is still tied hastily at the nape of her neck, her uniform still disheveled. Her face reveals none of her exhaustion, though, a quality I envy. I must look like I haven’t slept in a week.
“Can’t do it, sir. Too much at stake.” That, at least, is no lie.
She nods almost absently, as if she’d expected that response. She seems distracted, anyway, her eyes going to the screens I’d been studying. They oversee every inch of the base, from the barracks to the bar to the very room we’re standing in now. I can see myself at an angle, standing a few feet from the commander.
“Will you come with me, Captain?” Her voice is oddly formal under the circumstances, making my heart skip a little.
Stop acting like a guilty child, I tell myself sternly. They can’t read your mind.
“Of course, sir.”
Commander Towers leads the way down the hall, scanning the rooms as we pass for an empty one. Eventually, she just sticks her head through a doorway and barks, “You—out.”
A pair of startled privates come spilling out, eyes flicking from the commander to me. I follow Towers inside, only to have my muscles seize up as I realize where we are.
The security footage repository.
Commander Towers heads for one of the desks, pulling out a chair and sliding it across the floor toward me. Then she retrieves one of her own and drops into it heavily. I sink down more gingerly, keeping an eye on the commander while trying not to be too obviously nervous. If they’ve finished cleaning up the footage, then I’m too late. They’ll have a clear view of Cormac’s face. They’ll know he’s right there in our infirmary, and I’ve been to visit him more than once. And Commander Towers will know I lied to her.
But she isn’t looking at the screens or the servers. “Captain, I wanted to see how you were.” Her eyes meet mine, and though there’s sympathy in them, I can see something else behind it. A keen interest, sharp and perceptive. “You’ve had a lot to deal with over the past few days.”
“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.
“Captain.”
My stomach drops. “Commander.” I step away from her, stiffening to attention automatically.
“I thought I told you to take the next couple days off.” For once, Commander Towers isn’t perfectly put together. Her blond hair is still tied hastily at the nape of her neck, her uniform still disheveled. Her face reveals none of her exhaustion, though, a quality I envy. I must look like I haven’t slept in a week.
“Can’t do it, sir. Too much at stake.” That, at least, is no lie.
She nods almost absently, as if she’d expected that response. She seems distracted, anyway, her eyes going to the screens I’d been studying. They oversee every inch of the base, from the barracks to the bar to the very room we’re standing in now. I can see myself at an angle, standing a few feet from the commander.
“Will you come with me, Captain?” Her voice is oddly formal under the circumstances, making my heart skip a little.
Stop acting like a guilty child, I tell myself sternly. They can’t read your mind.
“Of course, sir.”
Commander Towers leads the way down the hall, scanning the rooms as we pass for an empty one. Eventually, she just sticks her head through a doorway and barks, “You—out.”
A pair of startled privates come spilling out, eyes flicking from the commander to me. I follow Towers inside, only to have my muscles seize up as I realize where we are.
The security footage repository.
Commander Towers heads for one of the desks, pulling out a chair and sliding it across the floor toward me. Then she retrieves one of her own and drops into it heavily. I sink down more gingerly, keeping an eye on the commander while trying not to be too obviously nervous. If they’ve finished cleaning up the footage, then I’m too late. They’ll have a clear view of Cormac’s face. They’ll know he’s right there in our infirmary, and I’ve been to visit him more than once. And Commander Towers will know I lied to her.
But she isn’t looking at the screens or the servers. “Captain, I wanted to see how you were.” Her eyes meet mine, and though there’s sympathy in them, I can see something else behind it. A keen interest, sharp and perceptive. “You’ve had a lot to deal with over the past few days.”
“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.
