“Are there any Razers who work on that level?” Abel asks. “Could they get information about how it was done?”
Ludwig lets out a low whistle. “That’s going to be under tight security. Really tight.”
“Doesn’t mean someone couldn’t get past it,” says Fon, and the others take on that look of excitement that means they’ve found a code or rule they plan to raze.
Swiftly Abel inputs contact codes for Harriet and Zayan. “Don’t endanger yourself for that intel, Virginia—but if you get it, please inform these people immediately. Tell them I asked you to. They may be able to hand the information on to doctors who could work on a cure.”
“You’ve got it,” Virginia promises. “Oh, we are forever captains for this.”
“Thank you for your help.” He shuts off his screen; Virginia and the other Razers stare up at him in surprise. “Your insights have been extremely helpful, but ultimately I must investigate in person. I should leave immediately.” Abel gives them another nod instead of saying good-bye.
As he strides through one of the rough-hewn stone tunnels leading back to the dock for Station 47, he hears footsteps coming up fast behind him. “Abel!” Virginia calls. “Wait up!”
He slows his steps, but not by much. “Did you discover something new within the data?”
“No, but you’re running out of here like somebody set your ship on fire.”
“What I observed demands direct investigation, immediately. Looking for alternate viewpoints and theories is—an interesting intellectual exercise, and you’ve provided valuable insights about the distortion fields and a potential Gate—but this is all irrelevant without further data. I don’t know why I didn’t see this from the beginning.”
“You didn’t come here just for intellectual exercise,” Virginia says. “You also came here because you were hurting and you needed a friend.”
Abel starts to say that this isn’t true. He’s functioned without friends for the large majority of his existence. Even if he did need emotional support, he would be consciously aware of it. Wouldn’t he? But humans are often oblivious to the psychological reasons for their behavior. Abel’s mind operates at a human level of complexity. He’s already determined that he has a subconscious—yet this is the first time he’s realized his subconscious affects his behavior. “Maybe I did. Thank you for listening to me, and going over this data. You helped me assess the situation more clearly. But the fact remains that I have to return to the site immediately.”
Virginia shakes her head. “Give it one hour.”
“Why one hour?”
“That’s how long it’s going to take me to put in for emergency leave. Well, I guess I should pack, too, but that’s not going to take long. Basically I only wear about six variations of this.” Virginia wears her usual deliberately oversize jumpsuit, baggy except for the broad belt tight at her waist, with various pins and badges proclaiming her fidelity to every piece of entertainment she’s ever loved. “I can have that done before the request’s even turned around.”
“You don’t have to come with me. I’m more than capable of handling the Persephone on my own.” Sometimes it’s a stretch even for him, but Abel manages.
“For the most advanced artificial intelligence ever created, you can be kind of stupid sometimes.” Virginia sighs. “Backup is good. Backup is your friend.”
“No, you’re my friend, and I’d rather not put any more of my friends in danger.” Even knowing what Harriet and Zayan are attempting makes him feel uneasy. The risk to Virginia would be far more immediate.
She is unconvinced. “If you go out to investigate something, you’re just going to leave the Persephone abandoned? You might as well put up a huge glowing holosign that says ‘Free ship to good home.’”
Abel considers that, but only briefly. “You’ve raised a valid tactical point, but it’s still not worth endangering you.”
“Worth it to who?” Virginia demands. “I’m interested in this, too, you know. Scientific mysteries are my lifeblood. If I stay here, I’m just going to be running more data for Professor Fernandez, who can deal with a couple weeks’ delay. And Fon and Ludwig can handle the Cobweb project here.”
“None of this changes the risk to you. I’m sorry, but—”
“Listen to me, dammit!” Her smile has vanished; she’s not joking any longer. “The people aboard that ship, the Osiris—they may have traveled through a hidden Gate. That means Earth is possibly hiding an entire habitable world. They’re doing that while people around the galaxy starve. More than five months ago, right after I left you and Noemi, I went home to see my parents. We’ve always talked via comms every few weeks, but—you never know who’s listening to those, right? The signals are programmed to catch words that sound disloyal to Earth. Maybe I could get away with some of it because they’ve invested so much in educating me, but my parents? I hadn’t really been able to talk to them, to hear everything they had to say, since I was six years old.”
Abel remembers what it felt like to be separated from Mansfield for a long time, back when he still thought of him as “Father.” The ache is both indescribable and undeniable.
She continues, the words spilling out of her in a rush. “I’ve always felt like being chosen for Cray made me special. I love it here, but I never asked myself how it felt for my mom and dad. Not really. The teachers tell you here what an honor it is, that your parents brag about you—and they do—but to Mom and Dad, Abel, it’s like I was stolen.” Virginia stops, hand to her lips like she can’t believe she dared to speak the words. But she doesn’t hold herself back for long. “Historically, this is not a new issue for my people. Same crap,
