She nodded. “Now he’s here, it should help.”
I wondered if she meant that now Dalton was here with me, or that now he was actually doing something. But I didn’t ask. Fiori and I had a limited, compromise-filled relationship.
That strained relationship prevented me from asking if she had known what Dalton had intended to tell me when he got here, if Mace hadn’t disappeared in the meantime. Whatever her answer might have been, it was irrelevant now.
Dalton moved away from the front desk, heading for the up shaft. I got to my feet and we all moved over with him. I saw some startled looks from the staff behind the counter. They were used to seeing Vara here, for I often brought her with me when I came to see Dalton. But two parawolves in the same space was unusual, anywhere.
Because they were siblings, Vara and Darb were at ease with each other and trotted just ahead of me, their shoulders not quite touching, moving in unison.
All of us just barely fit into the elevator. Darb took up a lot of horizontal space and he maneuvered to place himself next to his bonded master.
The room was not one I’d seen before. The two big windows looked out upon the dome itself and black space beyond. Just at the edge of the far-right window, Melenia blazed, shedding bright yellow light. The windows had polarized, taking the edge off the glare.
I immediately moved over to the terminal. “Take a seat, you guys. I have a couple of calls to make. Where are your bags?”
“Bonded storage with the harbor master,” Dalton said. “The concierge is fetching them.” He scrubbed at his hair. “Are you calling Lyth?”
I knew why he thought I might. I shook my head. “How long is it since you ate?”
“I’m fine,” Dalton said.
“Five hours, at least,” Fiori said. “I’ll order something.”
“Something hot,” I added.
She glanced at me, but didn’t nod, although I knew she had recognized what I was doing and was helping me do it. I wanted Dalton alert and energetic. Fiori, too, as it appeared she was along for the ride.
“You’re not questioning whether this is a false alarm,” Dalton said, lowering himself onto the satin coverlet on the bed with weary slowness. Darb leapt up onto the bed and sat right behind Dalton’s shoulder. The parawolf could sense Dalton’s stress.
“There’s no point in questions,” I answered Dalton. “No ship stays out of contact for longer than necessary. I can’t think of a single simple explanation for staying silent for three days. The longest jump to anywhere is under three. Even if they were taking that jump, they should have emerged by now. Something has happened and they can’t extricate themselves. We have to go in.”
Dalton nodded, satisfied, even though I was lying just a bit. I had a thousand questions I wanted to pepper Dalton with, including what the fuck his son was doing on a ship by himself. But all of them would keep.
Priorities, priorities.
Fiori dealt with the concierge panel, ordering freshly cooked food from the kitchens instead of dialing up something on the printer shelf right beneath. Medics were often resistant to printed food, despite the medical profession as a whole insisting it was perfectly healthy and nutritious.
In this hilton, unlike its cheaper cousins, the concierge panel was separated from the communications and data terminal. The terminal was a fully-functional dashboard one sat at, with physical screens. It was a swanky hotel, but it was also a very old one.
I pulled up the chair and got to work.
My first call went through very fast, because it was a good connection. The communications beacons around Triga were fifth generation, advanced models with high capacity. I happened to know that because Lyth had told me about the contract he’d completed to deploy them.
I could remember the time—which really wasn’t all that long ago—when it was impossible to speak to someone outside your own local star system for longer than sixty seconds, and even that short call would rack up charges to keep you in debt for the next generation. Instant and near-instant live communications, provided cheaply, were still a novelty, although I had apparently got used to talking to holographic 3D images. The flat physical screen took the edge off my marveling.
Jai Van Veen sat back in a well-padded armchair that I could see, instead of appearing to be lounging upon nothing, the way the tri-d reps did. His brow raised. “Danny.” He leaned sideways a bit. “Is that Dalton?”
I shifted out of the way, so Van Veen could see him properly.
Dalton lifted a hand in greeting. “Jai.”
Van Veen’s eyes narrowed. He’d gone through a round of regeneration therapy recently. The heavy laugh lines at the corners of his eyes had disappeared and his flesh was smooth and young. His cheekbones were still high and his cheeks thin. His jaw was still covered in dark blond scruff, but he looked relaxed and well.
He said, “Something’s happened.” He’d spotted Dalton’s tension, too.
I nodded. “Dalton’s son, Mace, is on a ship that has gone silent. I’m going to ask Lyssa to take us out there and check it out.”
Van Veen processed it quickly. “How long has it been dark?”
“Three days,” I said.
“Three point nine, now,” Fiori said from the concierge panel.
“I didn’t catch that,” Van Veen said patiently.
“That was Fiori—Mace’s mother. She’s working with the concierge panel. She said it’s been three point nine days now.”
“Sorry!” Fiori murmured from the side.
Van Veen didn’t appear to hear the apology. He frowned. “Three days is long enough to be concerned,” he said slowly. “The ship’s AI doesn’t respond, either?”
I glanced at Dalton. He scrubbed at his hair. So I looked at Fiori. She shook her head. “No response.”
“What is the last known location?” The question didn’t
