All roads led to Wren.
So she rang the chime and before she could change her mind, Wren answered the door.
“This is a nice surprise. Come in.”
She followed Wren in. “You changed the color.” The walls were now a bright, sunny yellow.
“I needed something different. Something happy. You know?”
“Yeah.” She did.
“You okay?” Wren’s face was pinched with concern.
“Fine. Why?”
“I can tell when something’s bothering you.”
Fallon relaxed her face, her shoulders, and told the rest of her body to do the same. “I’m fine.”
Despite her wishes, her instinct told her not to tell Wren the truth. Fallon’s instinct had served her well, and though it was contrary to what she wanted, she wasn’t about to ignore her gut.
“Okay. Good.” Wren brightened. “I was going to watch a holo-vid. Want to join me?”
“You didn’t have a date tonight?” Fallon forced humor into her eyes, though she didn’t feel the least bit lighthearted.
“Nah, I was tired. Wanted a night in. I was thinking I might put on some classic vid and fall asleep watching it.”
“I’m tired too, actually. A holo-vid would be great some other night.”
“Did the drill today create a lot of extra work?” Wren looked sympathetic.
“Yeah, it did.”
“How about a drink? I can tell you about the engine manifold I worked on today, then you can finish your drink and run away before I even get to the part about the switch gaskets.”
Fallon smiled. “That sounds about right, actually.”
So she sipped a Zerellian ale, listened to some technobabble, and let it distract her slightly. Afterward she gave Wren a light kiss and returned to her quarters.
Somehow she knew that Raptor wouldn’t visit her that night. She wouldn’t visit him, either. Each knew that the other should be considering them as a possible traitor. She already knew she couldn’t do that, but maybe he was a better BlackOp than she was. She’d give him room, just in case.
“In the end, a spy is always alone.” She turned off the lights and pulled the blanket up to her chin.
It was the last line in a book she’d enjoyed as a teen. For the first time, she truly understood it.
When Fallon woke up the next morning her situation was the same, and she felt no better about it. But she still had a job to do.
She went for her morning run with Brak. She reported to Nevitt. She worked through security diagnostics and protocols and continued her search for the meaning of “put your head to the ground.”
She’d exhausted all linguistic databases and come up with only two matches, but neither seemed applicable to her situation, even in the most abstract sense. So she continued to search for phrases that involved “head” or “ground.”
Stomping ground, covering ground, shaky ground, common ground. Head of state, head of security, department head, head of the line, head over heels, kick in the head.
He could have meant her head specifically. It had been through a significant experience. If Krazinski had been referencing her injury, though, what did he mean by putting her head to the ground?
She blew out a breath and went back to the beginning. To the message on the chip.
Krazinski wanted her to figure out what he’d said. He wanted her to join up with the rest of PAC command. Maybe he was genuine, and maybe it was a trap, but either way, this was a puzzle he intended for her to solve.
That meant she should already have everything she needed to figure it out.
Okay, her head. Putting it to the ground. What if he meant electrical grounding? As in, using what was in her head to complete a circuit, through which current could flow.
So what the hell would that mean? The original implant was gone, leaving behind only the damage it had caused. The new implant Brak had given her worked differently. Did Krazinski know that she no longer had the implant Blackout had given her? If he didn’t, his clue was useless.
She could talk to Brak and see if she had any ideas, since she had much more intimate knowledge of the technology. Fallon had no choice, really, if she wanted to pursue this angle. Brak had the data from the research station as well as her own expertise.
What other angles could Fallon work? She sent her chair into a spin and watched her office become a swirl of motion. She closed her eyes.
Without Krazinski, she was left with Colb. As her chair slowed to a stop, she reoriented herself toward the security vaults across the room. Priyanomine made the storage as tamper-proof and durable as possible. And within one compartment lay the splitter Ross had given her.
She could have used it. She could already know everything Colb knew.
If Blackout had ordered her to do that, before all this had happened, she would have. Now she had to weigh morality versus reality. Had she made a mistake in not using what was available to her?
But all this had started because someone had developed technology acknowledged by all PAC members to be wrong. One person’s decision could change the outcomes of billions of lives. Could reshape history.
Which left her with only one question: How could she shape it back the way it was supposed to be?
Hoping Brak could help her find some of the answers she needed, Fallon asked her to come up to her office. It was a long shot, but she couldn’t afford to overlook any possibilities.
“I’m sorry. There’s nothing left of the original implant, and no way to simulate its activity.” Brak lifted a shoulder in contrition, though she had nothing to be sorry for. “The implant I gave you is entirely different. If you’re supposed to somehow use the device you had, that’s just not possible.”
Fallon smelled the vinegar scent of Brak’s regret. If she’d had any lingering wisps of doubt
