“Earlier this morning, I finished reviewing all the files related to the Velorum crash,” Rowena said. “I found your initial conclusions to be most interesting, Ms. Quill.”
Another chill swept through me. She’d read my reports, and she knew my name. Oh, no.
“Why is that?” I asked in a calm, careful voice.
Rowena shrugged. “Because you were the only lab rat who didn’t follow Conrad’s lead and conclude that the Velorum crashed due to pilot error. What did you say caused the crash? What did you call it, exactly?” She snapped her fingers, and the sharp sound made me flinch. “Ah, yes, a safety hazard.”
I knew I should keep quiet, but the smart show-off and smug know-it-all inside me just couldn’t stop the words from pouring out of my mouth. “Actually, the ship crashed because of an error in the navigation system. One of the sensors below the observation deck windows is unusually sensitive to laser scans, blaster and cannon fire, and other similar bright pulses of light, heat, and power.”
Rowena gave me an encouraging nod. “And?”
Once again, I couldn’t stop talking. “And whenever light, heat, or power hits this particular sensor, the navigation system wrongly interprets it as a solar flare and reacts accordingly.”
By this point, everyone was staring at me—Rowena, Conrad, Hal, the other guards, and even Sabine set her tablet down to focus on me.
“Reacts how?” Rowena asked, that deceptively pleasant smile still fixed on her face.
I swallowed the hard knot of worry in my throat. “The ship’s autopilot kicks in, and it activates an emergency dive protocol. In other words, the ship immediately takes evasive action to avoid flying straight into the sun, star, or other danger it thinks is directly in front of it. Of course, that doesn’t matter in space, where there is usually nothing to slam into, but it does matter when a ship is in a planetary, gravitational atmosphere and near land, water, or some other geographic mass. That’s why the Velorum crashed. Because it had just taken off from a spaceport, and the sensor essentially drove it right back down into the ground. Not because of pilot error.”
“But pilot error was a factor,” Conrad cut in smoothly. “You just said the ship went into a deep dive. A skilled pilot should have been able to recover from that.”
I should have agreed with him. Should have gone along with everything he said and every wrong conclusion he spouted. But the longer I looked at him, the more I wanted to wipe that patronizing smirk off his face and the more I wanted to get some—well, any—sort of revenge for how he’d stolen my ideas and used them to advance his own floundering career.
I shook my head. “Not even the most skilled pilot could pull out of a dive that steep, no matter what magic, enhancements, or tech they had.”
Sabine gestured at her tablet. “I’ve reviewed your reports about this so-called flaw, this supposed safety hazard. But really, it’s a nonfactor. The chances of the navigation sensor interpreting blaster or cannon fire or anything else as a solar flare are very, very small.”
“Less than one percent,” Conrad piped up, trying to bolster her argument.
“Which will still amount to dozens of crashes a year given how many ships Kent Corp plans to produce,” I countered. “And since most of the new cruisers are destined for Imperium duty, then that percentage greatly increases, especially given the recent hostilities with the Techwave.”
“Yes, such crashes would be of great concern to the Imperium,” Rowena murmured.
I couldn’t tell if she was mocking me or not, but I turned my attention to her. “Luckily, the safety hazard is an easy fix and can be done without attracting any unwanted attention. You could do it here, in the production plants, as you build the new ships. And send maintenance teams to quietly replace the faulty sensors on the cruisers that have already been delivered to their buyers.”
A ghost of a smile flickered across Rowena’s face, as though she found my suggestions quaint and amusing. “I appreciate your attempts at discretion, Ms. Quill, but it’s far too late for that. Several new military cruisers have already been delivered to Imperium forces and will go into service right after the spring ball. I can’t send maintenance crews to fix things on brand-new ships. Why, the merest hint that something might be wrong with the new ships would cost Kent Corp trillions in lost revenue, not to mention reigniting interest in the Velorum crash. I’ve invested far too many of House Kent’s resources to have this endeavor fail now, at the last minute.”
Even though she was talking about a massive conspiracy that could potentially cost millions of people their lives, her arguments were just as valid as mine were, so for once, I did the smart thing and kept my mouth shut.
Rowena rocked forward in her chair. “But you’re right. There is a safety hazard in the new cruiser design.”
“Mother—” Sabine started to protest, but Rowena silenced her daughter with an angry glower.
“The new cruiser line was your idea, your design, and you were so bloody pleased with your own brilliance you didn’t even consider that someone else might notice the modifications,” Rowena growled. “Arrogant fool. Your carelessness could have set our plans back years, if not scuttled them altogether.”
Sabine gasped and jerked back as though her mother had slapped her.
“As I’ve told you countless times before, all it takes is one person, one tiny mistake, to bring down an entire Regal family. I’ve seen it happen before, and I will not let it happen to House Kent.”
I rewound her angry words in my mind. Plans? What plans? And what modifications had Sabine made to the new space cruisers? The two of them seemed to be having a conversation about something else entirely, something far more sinister than letting unsuspecting passengers fly around on ships equipped with faulty sensors.
Rowena kept glowering at her daughter, even as she stabbed her finger at me. “How is it that some bloody lab rat knows more about how our spaceships work than you do?”
I stiffened. I’d heard the term lab rat thousands of times, and I often used it myself, but Rowena Kent spat it out as though it was the vilest sort of curse. Even worse, her tone reminded me of that long-ago insult from my own mother: useless child.
Rowena’s words also struck a nerve with Sabine, whose cheeks flamed with anger. The younger woman shot me a venomous look, and her fingers curled around her tablet as though she wanted to hurl it at me. Conrad glanced back and forth between Sabine and Rowena, while Hal grinned, clearly enjoying the drama. The other guards shifted on their feet, more wary than amused.
Cold dread washed over me yet again, even stronger than before, but I didn’t need my magic to tell me that I needed to do everything in my power to save myself.
I cleared my throat again, drawing everyone’s attention. “You don’t even have to replace the sensor. All you have to do is tweak the settings, and then the light, heat, and power variances won’t matter and won’t overload the navigation system.”
Rowena gave me a look that was filled with even more venom and disgust than the one Sabine had just shot my way. “And that will still cost me money, not to mention delaying production, both of which are unacceptable. I will not give Callus Holloway a chance to sink his claws into my corporation. Not now, when so much is at stake. We will proceed with the new cruiser launch as planned.”