Chapter 4

FOUR

F elix missed the smell of reprocessed air. He preferred the flat scent of metal and old dust to the weird breezes piped into Anatolius spaces. Every room had a theme. The guest quarters were redolent with vanilla and clean linen. Brennan's den had smelled of paper. That might have been all the books—real books. The sky bridge arcing between the family building and the Anatolius Industries headquarters smelled like coconut. Reflected sunlight warmed the glassed-in corridor, making the scent almost appropriate, especially if you imagined that the abstract etchings floating along the top of each pane were palm fronds. Of course, a quick glance down destroyed any beachcombing illusions.

"From this vantage point, Alpha Station resembles an Earth city." Qek's bald blue head swiveled back and forth as she took full advantage of the same view Felix had taken in that morning, of the five interlocked domes housing what would be skyscrapers if there had been an actual sky to scrape.

"Yeah, I heard it was modeled after New Athens on Earth." Elias glanced over his shoulder at Zed. "That right?"

"On a smaller scale," Zed said.

He'd had been quiet since returning from his meeting with Brennan. In contrast, Felix felt noisier. Recrimination had a habit of echoing in a man's thoughts.

Zed made a careful study of the patterns in the glass and the view up: the panels that formed the dome over this section of Alpha Station. Beyond, space unfolded in an endless carpet, pricked by distant stars. Squinting, you could make out the tail end of the jump queue. Turning, you might catch a glimpse of Earth rising behind them—and the rest of the station domes. The view Qek marveled over. Zed wouldn't turn. Nor would he look down.

His fear of heights had always struck Felix as strange. They spent the bulk of their lives suspended in a vacuum with no up or down. Fear of falling was one of the first things anyone who ventured into space had to overcome.

He hadn't exhibited his fear on the sky bridges of Ashushk Prime, which only went to show how far gone he'd been when they got there.

Yeah, no, time to think about something else. "Don't look down," Felix whispered.

"Ass."

"You know it, but I'm here. If you fall, I'm coming with you." He grabbed Zed's arm.

"Not helping."

"If they tweaked the gravity differential up here, we could float?—"

Zed gagged.

Nessa turned, medical wallet already in her hand. "Are you okay? You're so pale."

"Can we just get to the end of the sky bridge before you examine me?"

"What's the problem?" Elias stopped and their small group formed a huddle in the middle of the narrow bridge.

Sweat popped out across Zed's forehead. "Can we keep moving, please?"

Guilt slithered across Felix's skin, cool and clammy. Yanking on Zed's hand, he pulled him toward the other end of the sky walk. "C'mon. We don't want to be late for the press conference."

Zed blanched further. Add another emotion to the mix: Felix might be a heel for taking comfort in the fact Zed loathed the idea of a press conference as much as he did, but if they needed some common ground, that could be it. Zed shouldn't be a managed expectation for the Anatolius family or the AEF.

They reached the end of the sky bridge and Zed practically sagged into the upper lobby of the Anatolius Industries headquarters.

"Mr. Anatolius?"

The dry, crisp voice belonged to a young woman in a security uniform that had been starched to razor sharpness. A man could cut his fingers on those seams, which might be her intent. Zed gave the woman a cursory glance and tilted his head, indicating she should state her business. He usually handled people with more warmth, but Felix supposed her sharp creases got to him, too. They'd both had enough of military precision to last them a lifetime.

"I'm Misha Volk. With Anatolius Security. Your brother Brennan asked me to escort you to the press conference."

They needed an escort to the ground floor?

Zed dipped his chin in one of those casual but commanding nods. "I know how to operate a lift tube, Ms. Volk."

"The press has been alerted to your arrival."

"That's usually how a press conference works," Felix observed.

Volk produced a wallet. "Those not invited to the conference. They're gathered in the main lobby of the building."

"So, shouldn't you be there directing traffic?" Elias asked.

"Anatolius Security is working to contain the situation. In the meantime, I have been directed to escort you to the conference using a more discreet route."

Zed knew every inch of the family buildings, he didn't need a guide. Rather than state that, however, he chose the path of least resistance. "Lead on then."

They fell in behind the security officer. From the back, she appeared just as starched, and her presence resurrected the specter of a future Felix had been trying to ignore all morning. Press conferences and AEF hound dogs. Zed's place in the family dynasty. Felix's lack of place.

Bypassing the main lift station, they followed a corridor toward the opposite side of the building. This level served as a concourse of a sort, a way station between the upper management offices and the business below. A square housed a small café, and the corridor was lined with conference and meeting rooms. The aroma of coffee and chocolate wafted past. Felix wondered what thoughts such scents were supposed to inspire. Everyone they passed seemed to be busy. Walking in conference, walking with eyes pointed toward a holo display, walking with brisk, purposeful strides. No one roused his suspicion. All on the move, all doing what they should be doing by all appearances. Their escort appeared far from relaxed, however. Her back ramrod straight, shoulders square, she marched down one avenue after another as if leading them into battle.

Shit, I hope not.

Why did he feel as if they were being directed toward something, rather than away from something? Because he was a paranoid fucker, most likely. Still, Felix didn't discount the creep over the back of his scalp. He'd rather be wrong than dead.

They turned into a proper access corridor. There were two doors toward the end. The fine hairs along the back of Felix's neck rose as they passed each. The corridor spilled into a small vestibule housing one lift tube. Volk waved them into the waiting car. The doors closed with a sudden and abrupt hiss, leaving a startled Volk outside.

"That's one way to get rid of her."

Zed smacked the open door button and the lift plummeted, shooting their stomachs up into their diaphragms.

Nessa turned wide brown eyes toward them. "Where are we going?"

"Down, by the feel of it."

"Except none of us actually pressed a button." A lift that engaged without input was either malfunctioning—or it had been tampered with. Shit. The panel inside the doors flashed numbers, without indicating a destination.

"Try the emergency stop," Felix said.

"I'm hitting it now," Nessa yelled.

The car continued downward, the numbers on the display ticking past at an ever-increasing rate.

Shit and double shit.

Felix woke his bracelet. He had no station-specific hacks, but he did have a broad diagnostic tool. Elias added his expertise by banging on the sides of the car. "Hey!"

Qek approached the panel and produced her wallet, her thoughts apparently in sync with Felix's. "Do you have a diagnostic running?"

"Yep," Felix muttered, fingers dancing over a holographic keyboard. Beside him, Zed breathed quietly and methodically and then shimmered. Could he do anything out of phase? Maybe halt the progress of the car? It wouldn't be the first time his capabilities had saved them.

They had seconds before the car crumpled against the end of the lift tube, or crashed through and into the endless black of space. Felix called up a schematic to see if he could determine the most likely instance of death, figuring he could backward engineer their escape.

Zed bounced off the side of the car, vanished and reappeared, clutching at his hand. He swore gently under his breath and said, "We're moving too fast."

"Did you just try to…" Nessa grabbed at his hand. He had no skin left on his palm.

Triple shit.

"Do not stick any part of yourself outside this car again," Felix yelled.

"I've alerted station security," Qek put in.

"I think I'm into lift control," Felix said. Every code input met with a flashing red denial of access. "Damn it. I need my hacks." His new bracelet came with only the most legal and therefore useless programs.

They were nearly out of lift tube. Felix thought it prudent to keep that fact to himself until he considered the consequences of all of them smashing together on the floor. If they didn't die on impact, they'd be a mess of broken bones and punctured organs. Jesus. Abandoning his attempt to prevent the crash, Felix flung himself at Zed.

"We need to brace for impact."

Zed grunted as Felix wrapped his arms around him. Felix appreciated the absurdity of his gesture. He could never cushion someone of Zed's size, bulk, weight. But he could try, couldn't he? He could damned well try. Zed shifted out of phase again, and Felix felt himself rise up off the floor. He might have yelped. He did bite his tongue. Nessa rose past him, bright red hair streaming out in divergent corkscrews. Qek shot up between them. Elias bounded off the wall behind. For a frozen instant, Felix wondered if they'd missed the end of the tube and entered space, if they'd left gravity behind. Then the shock of impact rolled through the car, slamming past his ears, followed by the screech and groan of twisting and stressed metal. Felix bounced up a second time and then down. He landed hard. Instinct had him tucking his limbs close. Close by he heard something snap with a loud pop. Qek smacked into his chest, driving the breath from his lungs. A dark arm glanced off his nose. Bright lights and happy stars danced across his vision, then the pain hit.

Pain was good. Pain meant he was alive.

A chorus of groans and a snuffled breath cut through a swell of misery that radiated out from his right shoulder. Felix spat out a mouthful of blood, heedless of where the clot landed, and croaked, "Shit."

"That comment feels rather adequate to our situation," Qek said, lifting her head from Felix's chest. He'd managed to wrap an arm around her.

Someone hissed.

"Eli?"

A striplight dangled from the ceiling, flickering. The doors had bowed inward and one of them was well on the way to being folded in half. The scent of burnt electronics filled the small cabin.

"Here," Elias answered, confirming he was alive and could speak.

"Zed?" Felix tried to turn over, and a jolt of pain coiled around his shoulder. Groaning, he slapped around beside him with his left hand. He smacked something soft.

"Watch my eye," Nessa said.

"I'm down here," Zed said, shifting beneath Felix.

"Can you stand, Qek?"

"Yes."

The ashushk slid off of him and then helped Felix roll off Zed, who groaned and blinked. Beneath him, the floor had taken on a crumpled appearance. Felix leaned over him and tried to do something other than flail. His shoulder screamed every time he thought of it, anyway.

"Are you okay?" he whispered.

"Gimme a minute," Zed said, squinting.

Nessa managed a kneeling position. Felix glanced at her and took note of her stunned expression.

"How are we even alive?" she said.

"I hurt so bad I'd almost rather be dead," Elias said from his slump near the wall.

"I expected to be more broken," Felix said. He turned back to Zed. "Tell me you're not broken." His tone had an edge of desperation to it.

"Not broken," Zed whispered hoarsely.

"You juggled us, yes?" Qek said.

"Juggled?" Felix glanced at Qek for an explanation.

"I surmise Zander employed a quick succession of phase-shifts in order to keep us all suspended at the moment of impact."

Felix's jaw creaked as his mouth dropped open. "Holy shit."

"Oh my God," Nessa breathed.

"Fuck." Elias scrubbed the side of his face. "Fuck."

"Did it work?" Zed asked.

"Only if you tell me you're really okay down there," Felix said, narrowing his eyes at him.

Zed hooked an arm around Felix's good shoulder and pulled him down. "I'm only kind of okay. If you snuggled me, I'd be a whole lot better."

Felix smacked Zed across the chest and Zed stifled a hiss. "Okay, okay. No smacking. I might have broken something in there."

"Better not be your spine."

"Nope, I can still feel my dick."

"Thanks for sharing that, man," Elias said.

Putting a hand to her mouth, Nessa swallowed a chuckle and then dug her wallet out of her pocket. A second later, she gave her report. "Three cracked ribs."

A once-over of the rest of the crew added strained ligaments (Nessa), a broken wrist (Elias), a dislocated shoulder (Felix), an emerging collection of bruises, and two bitten tongues. Zed still lacked skin on the palm of his right hand. It looked disgusting.

"I have never bitten my own tongue before." Qek caught the tip of her purple tongue between her long fingers in an attempt to examine it visually.

"First time for everything," Felix said.

The corridor outside the wrecked lift crawled with people of all sorts. Techs, security, men and women in suits, all trying to figure out what the hell had gone wrong. Zed slumped against the wall a few meters away, watching Brennan pace while growling at someone suspended in a holo above his wallet. His chest ached, his hand stung, and his head pounded, but it could have been worse. So much worse.

Med techs hovered over each member of the Chaos crew. None of the injuries were serious enough to warrant a visit to a hospital—just as well. If the accident wasn't an accident and security in Anatolius buildings was compromised, there was no telling what a trek to an emergency room would entail.

Brennan stabbed a finger into the holo interface of his wallet and spun on his heel to face Zed. "This is such a fucking nightmare. You sure you're okay?" His expression softened as he approached.

Zed held up his uninjured hand and waggled it from side to side. "Been better."

Been worse, too. The cracked ribs would be nothing but a slightly sore memory by tomorrow, once the Mendo shot kicked in. Assuming it still worked right with his fucked-up metabolism. Elias was getting a shot of the stuff too—plus a temporary cast to keep his wrist immobile and prevent further damage before the bone could set. He'd be able to remove it by the morning. Zed's wounded palm was protected by a derm patch, which would regenerate the skin. His experience with derm patches was not pleasant—they itched like hell—but at least he'd have a brand new palm in a handful of days.

Har har.

God, he was exhausted. He sighed, wincing as the motion jarred his tender ribs. "So what happened?"

Brennan scrubbed a hand through the hair at the top of his head, tugging slightly. "Software malfunction. Some line of code got corrupted and?—"

"Bullshit," Flick spat, shifting beside Zed to face Brennan. He cradled his arm to his side. "Station code doesn't get corrupted on its own. There are fail-safes and redundancies built in to make sure shit like this doesn't happen. Same with ships. Fuck, even the Chaos has redundancies out the wazoo."

"The Chaos once had such redundancies," Qek corrected. "I believe you overrode most of them to increase responsiveness of the engine systems."

Flick waved a hand. "Yeah, because it's my ship and I know which redundancies are stupid. No one's going to do the same to a station, especially not an Anatolius station. You guys have so many rules and regulations, checklists to follow, forms to fill out in triplicate. It's a pain in the ass but it pays well, which is why your techs aren't screaming every time they have to do maintenance."

Zed raised a brow.

"What? I briefly—very briefly—thought about station work before I realized your family would probably end up hating me when I tried to ‘fix' things that they didn't figure were broken."

"Mistakes happen, though," Brennan said, folding his arms. "The corruption obviously occurred during the last maintenance and took until now to trigger."

"Just as we step into the lift?" Elias snorted. "I mean, our luck is bad, but it's not that bad. And what happened to Ms. Volk?"

"Who?" Brennan asked.

"The security officer you assigned to us."

"I didn't…" Brennan brought up a display on his wallet. "Describe her."

Brennan soon established that neither Anatolius Industries, nor their security division, employed a Misha Volk.

Zed eyed his crew. "So, who do you figure she was with?"

"Agrius?" Elias sounded almost hopeful and Zed understood why. The Agrius cartel was a known element. An easy answer. Fighting a private war with them had sucked, but at least it was familiar.

Qek clicked in thought. "It does not fit. There is no financial gain for them to attack us now that we have agreed to their terms. They do not operate in Sol system and this is not one of the stations we were requested to avoid."

Elias sighed. "Yeah, I know."

"AEF?" Flick suggested softly.

Zed opened his mouth but the no never emerged. He wanted to believe the military wouldn't stoop to such measures. But wanting to believe it and actually believing it were two separate things. He couldn't see Bradley agreeing to this sort of action, but the AEF? Yeah, he'd discovered just how inhumane they could be.

Still…attempted murder…

"Give Marnie and Ryan a call," he said. If anyone could find out if the AEF wanted to cross them out, their old Academy friends in Military Intelligence could.

"So you guys just have an ongoing list of people who might want to kill you, huh?" Brennan shook his head. "Christ."

"In all fairness, the Agrius cartel no longer wishes to kill us," Qek said.

They spent another ten minutes going over their latest jobs, but nothing stood out. There'd been no threats, and none of their cargo had been dangerous or even remotely questionable. Since they'd left Ashie Prime—without Zed—the Chaos hadn't taken on much, and certainly nothing risky.

"Could it be that we're going at this from the wrong angle?" Nessa said.

"How so?" Zed asked.

"Maybe it's not what you are—sorry," she added with a grimace. "But who."

Elias nodded. "Anatolius."

Zed turned to his brother. "Do you or Dad have a ‘who wants to kill me' list?"

"No," Brennan said with a half chuckle, before sobering. "Not that I know of, anyway. And even if we did, why would they go after you? You're not connected to the company, and of all of us, you're the most likely to survive anything thrown at you. O war hero."

Zed closed his eyes and leaned against Flick. "Whatever. Can I be done thinking now?"

"You okay?" Flick asked, his voice low with worry.

"Tired." Then, because he'd promised himself to be truthful with Flick, he admitted, "I've got a headache, too."

Flick stiffened. "How bad?"

Zed opened his eyes again and sought out Flick's hand. "It's not bad. Just enough to be annoying and make me more tired, that's all. Promise," he added, bringing Flick's knuckles to his lips for a kiss. "Can we get an escort back to our quarters, Bren?"

Flick grimaced. "The Chaos ?—"

"The Chaos might be compromised," Zed said. "Since the malfunction wasn't a malfunction, I mean. Messing with the Chaos would be simple for someone who'd figured out how to fuck with Anatolius systems."

Brennan pulled out his wallet again. "Good point. I'll get some people on it."

"Thorough sweep. Only your most trusted, okay? Eli, can you send Bren the command codes?"

"Should I salute you, too?"

Zed shot his captain an apologetic smile. "Sorry."

"Nah, you're the security officer. You can call the shots here." Elias struggled to work his wallet with his immobilized hand until Nessa leaned over and held it for him. "Done."

Brennan's wallet pinged. "Got it. Oh… shit ."

What now? Zed barely bit back a groan.

"There's footage. How they got it, I don't know, but it's all over the networks. Crap, you're flickering in and out—we might be able to play it off as lighting, maybe—" His brother blew out a breath. "Look, Zed…you're not going to be able to avoid the attention this incident is going to garner. You need to manage it."

Manage it. Deny, deny, deny. It had been a long time since he'd had to deal with the fame of being an Anatolius. He hoped managing it was sort of like driving—a skill that never left you once you learned it. But…"Not today."

"I can work with that. You up for rescheduling the press conference for tomorrow?"

No. Hell no. Never would be better.

"Sure," he said, lips twisting into a parody of a smile. "That would be just peachy ."