29. Holter

"There's no food here."I put a bowl of "stew" down in front of her.

"It's fine. I'm not that hungry, anyway. When I stayed here, the pantry was full."

"Oh, it's full, but not with real food." I sink into the chair next to her. "You sure you don't want any help?"

"Not for this part. It's kind of a one-person job."

"Is the translator able to translate Bellucci's documents into anything legible?"

"Oh, yes. It's done with it already." She pushes her notes across to me. "It's not much. It's a simple cipher, really. If I had more time, I could pick it apart myself without any help from a computer. It looks like bank statements and payments to someone named Cyril Rizos. And even more to ‘Gerrard Legend.' And a bunch of drivel about how foolish the Vitrom governor's plan is, and he really isn't the guilty party. It's like he was figuring he was going to get caught and this was his document to send Vitrom down the river. I've moved on to Richeal's notebooks from Ophelia's library."

I kiss the top of her head. "Gerrard Legend is a Kraken, one of their toughest. He's known for his hatred of Dorian, and he's their king. The Tinom and Vitrom governors are paying the Kraken, but why?"

"I don't know, but could this have nothing to do with the dome collapsing, or with the terrorism at all?"

"That very well could be the case. Eat some of this. I think it's cod stew. I don't want you passing out from hunger."

"Yes, sir." Her blue eyes flash. "Just kidding." She waves at me. "I need to get this done. It's been pulling at me for so long."

"All right. I'll give you some space. Castor and I are cleaning up the living room and bedroom."

"Okay." Her head is bent, and I'm pretty sure she didn't hear what I said.

"And then we're going to flood the bedroom so you can swim with your sharks."

"Okay, sounds good." I close the door, and rest my hand on the bookcase that hides it. "Wait, what?" Her muffled voice comes from the other side. "You're joking, right?"

I open it again. "Yes."

Her face lights up with a smile. "I'll eat something." She takes a large bite of the stew and swallows it down with a big gulp of water. "Well, hopefully the curfew is lifted soon."

"Yes." I close the door again.

Castor is picking up the pieces of a broken lamp. We've got the sofa and the bed both back together. "The guys who tossed this place were some angry blubber fish."

"Indeed." I pick up a painting and hang it back on the wall.

"What do you think they were looking for? Annabelle? Or something related to what Eros used to do?" Castor throws a glass into the dustbin.

"I don't know, but I'd like to tear them apart."

Castor straightens. "Is she doing okay in there?"

"She's already finished Bellucci's notebook. He was paying the Kraken king. It's a ledger and testimony against the Vitrom governor. Belle's working on Richeal's translations now."

"Whoa."

"She's working really hard at it. She hardly touched her stew."

"I'm just doing housekeeping, and I hardly touched that slop, so I don't blame her."

We keep at it, and two hours later, the apartment is as good as it's going to get.

"Eureka," Belle yells from the library.

"What?" Castor tilts his head.

The door opens, and Belle is beaming. "Eureka. Or what is it you would say when you've had a big breakthrough?"

"‘I've made a big breakthrough,'" Castor replies.

She throws her hands up in the air and laughs.

Castor claps, so I do too before taking her hand that she still has thrust into the air.

"I'm doing my ta-da hands. Never mind."

Ta-da, eureka—I still have a lot to learn about humans. "What is it? What did you figure out?"

"It's not what I figured out but what your mom figured out. The Mermaid Viability Project wasn't only about making more female mermaids and getting them to survive but about making geminae mermaids. That way, they could grow the Braesen population faster than any other dome."

"Shoot, that's big, Annabelle." Castor sits back on the sofa.

"Yes, and they were close to doing it too. They had several successful theories. Well, semi-successful. From what she could tell, they were models, but Richeal was close to figuring it out. Somehow, she was getting access to Braesen's data. The mermaids in the models weren't full mermaids. They wouldn't have the ability to shift all the way."

"Did they make podlets?" I cross my arms over the front of my chest. I know what it sounds like she's saying. If they did, what has happened to them?

"I don't think so. But these notes are from a long time ago. There's a lot more I need to go through. One name keeps popping up over and over again, though. At first, I didn't realize it was a name. I thought it was a scientific term. But then I kept seeing it over and over and I thought it might be translating it wrong. Calvin Degree. I thought maybe it was talking about the temperature. But then later on, in the smallest note on the side of the notebook, she mentions Calvin is threatening her. That if she tells anyone, he would hurt her podlets. She was blackmailed into not letting the news out. It's horrible."

"Podlets?" Surely it says "podlet." She was worried about someone hurting Nico. I nod at her. I know I'm right. Belle is a clever girl, but she's made a mistake interpreting the data from the notebooks. It must say podlet.

"I knew you were going to catch that. Yes, Holter, it says podlets. I had the translator check it three times. I can even show you the symbol she uses to make it a plural. It's ingenious. I'm starting to catch on to the basis of the whole thing. I'm hoping I'll be able to read it without the machine soon because the volume of material is so extensive. It would be a heck of a lot faster if I could just read it without having to use the translator for the easy stuff."

"I'm sure you'll be able to do it, Belle." I pull her in for a hug. I can't look at her, not right now. I don't know how I'm feeling. I don't remember ever crying, but if I look at her, I might now. I close my eyes and take in her scent of apples. I rub my hand up and down over her arm, and Belle tightens her grip around my waist.

It's weird. I've been told my whole life by Dad and Father that Richeal was expecting me. But I never believed them, not until this minute. Not until one single word gave me the proof. She didn't have to say it was plural podlets, not in a journal she thought no one would ever be able to read.

Belle kisses the underside of my chin, and I inhale her again. "Right, so Calvin Degree is an ass who we need to find before Nico does."

"I was thinking the same thing."

I turn to Castor, who watches us with wide eyes. Another few minutes, and I'll be able to focus again. In, out. In, out. "What else?—"

"In a minute. Just let her hold you." Castor's voice cracks.

I don't know who lets go first, but she sits down on the sofa and reaches for me. "Now let me snuggle between the two of you and try not to think about how long it's been since they left."

"They're good, Belle."

"I know they are. I had a freshman roommate who always talked about manifesting. I think it's a crock of... fish guts, but I'm working on it. Here, do it with me. Close your eyes and imagine they're in the solo heading home with Michio and the Stele governor right now." She has her hands on her lap and her legs crossed underneath her.

I glance at Castor, and he jumps to sit next to her. It's funny—I thought I would do anything for her, but I think Castor has us all beat. He's honestly giving up what he was born to be.

I sink into the couch.

"Put your arms at your sides. Relax, Castor. I'm not going to last like this too long—I want to get back to the translator—but we can all do it for five minutes. Legs under you. Come on."

"We do meditation before battle, Belle."

"Oh good, then you can teach me."

I smile, and I'm anything but relaxed, but she does send a wave of comfort through me. I put my hands at my sides. Something falls from the side of the cushion and hits my leg and rolls across the floor, hitting the drawn blind before it rolls under it.

"What was that?" Belle's on her feet, her hand under the curtain fishing out the object. She holds it up between her thumb and forefinger. "Isn't this one of Eros's discs for the self-cloaking device?" She turns it over, examining it, and then hands it to me.

"I think it is." I hold it up for Castor to see.

"You don't think it fell off when they put it on, do you? I mean, they were only in the doorway, and that was in the cushions," she asks.

"I think it was in the slash of the sofa." We flip the cushions off and search the base, but there's nothing else there.

"An extra?" Castor suggests.

"No, Eros was really clear." She takes the disc from me. "This is brand new tech. Not a lot of people have it. Maybe he had an extra. Or maybe it's from the people who tossed the place?"

"I think you're right. So now we know whoever searched this place was also an agent of the security council. Maybe looking to see if they could find evidence about Eros?" Castor says.

"Or the dirt he has on others," I add.

"Both, why not both?" Belle says and laughs. "Sorry, it's from a kids' movie. It's funny if you've watched it."

"I'd like to watch it sometime." Castor takes the disc and examines it again.

"She's already said she wants you in the pod. It's Nico you want to convince." I shake my head at him.

"I'm planning on it." He pulls Belle into his arms.