I didn’t know Bob, but I knew how to pretend to fit in here, thanks to time spent on Starbase 12—the original three-tiered alphabet-model spacedock. The Overseer had required “his daughter” for plenty of official functions and paraded Mom and me out when it was convenient. On the starbase, it was Uncle Nate who’d shown me around, and I’d been granted a certain amount of freedom because of the secure location. Otherwise, Mom and I were only allowed some fancy shopping trips here and there on Alpha Sambian, mainly to show our faces in public—a reminder to the galaxy that the Overseer was a generous family man, a model for everyone.
A model who didn’t even let his kid go to school. People assumed I had a home tutor, but I didn’t. Mom taught me to read and write, and Uncle Nate brought us books. I didn’t set foot in a classroom or interact with other children until Starway 8 became my home.
“But Bob…” The team captain’s eyes strayed to the entrance with the long line of waiting ships.
“He’ll be up when he’s feeling better. Won’t be long now.”
Her expression cleared somewhat. I must have been convincing.
She glanced at Shade’s toolbox and waved us forward. “Follow me.” She walked us to the lifts, waited for one to open, and pushed the button to the bottom level herself. “You know the way once you’re down there?”
“Yeah. Not our first DWALSH.” Hopefully, no one but me noticed the irritation in my voice. No choice now: we were going in the wrong direction first.
She stepped back, letting us go. I couldn’t tell if she was still suspicious. I wasn’t using a secret language or anything, but most people didn’t say things like LZL, keep your bottoms up, or DWALSH if they didn’t frequently live or work on Dark Watch alphabet-level security hubs.
The doors closed, leaving us in the silent lift, although it seemed to me that I could hear every single one of our pulses beating frantically.
“We have to go all the way down now, don’t we?” Caeryssa muttered.
“It’s safest,” I answered, hoping there wasn’t a microphone in here. Even the all-controlling Dark Watch didn’t want to hear everyone’s random conversation in an elevator. The little camera in the back corner needed to keep seeing the tops of our heads until we got off where we were supposed to, though. “Bob’s friend with the bangs could be monitoring our progress from her office. And we should walk back up. Get between the inner and outer shells of the station.” The elevators would be pandemonium today, slow and crowded, but hardly anyone would actually be working or needing access to the cargo attachments.
Frank groaned. “That’s a hell of a workout.”
“You scared of some stairs, Frank?” I slid him a challenging look.
“Not all of us get a hearty workout running for our lives every day like you do, Bailey.” His effort at humor scraped a thin layer off the coating of dread sticking to our group like rotten honey.
Eight levels down and still in the docking areas, the lift opened. A Red Beam zipped past. I forced myself not to flinch, and the drone’s searching red eye swiveled toward the guy blocking the lift with an arm and waving his friends over.
We all stood absolutely still, trying not to draw the drone’s attention. It locked on to the two young men moving toward the lift at a jog and then zoomed away to scan an incoming vessel.
Time seemed to slow as we waited for them to get in the elevator. A saw buzzed. Sparks showered off a ship being repaired two landing pads over. The roar of the blowtorch scorched my ears as though it were right next to us, but at least it dulled the sound of my hammering heartbeat, the powerful thuds nearly deafening me.
When the two others arrived, we backed up, making room for the trio juggling bags and boxes at the lift entrance. They barreled in together like an asteroid, all energy and impact. Nerves jumped in my throat. How long until another Red Beam flew by? DWALSHs were always crawling with them.
My pulse echoed through all my hollow places and pounded out warnings. Close the doors. Move now. Finish this.
One of the new recruits—because they were definitely that, complete with brand-new Dark Watch uniforms and pristine military-issued packs—glanced up at Jax as he balanced his belongings, using one knee to help. “Can you press Middle H for us? No hands.” He smiled, his pile of stuff teetering.
Jax reached past the young man’s shoulder and pressed MH on his side of the lift. The scar on his cheek stretched as his jaw flexed.
One of the others tilted his head back. Not too tall and a little scrawny, he seemed in awe of Jax. “Man, you’re huge. I’m glad I signed up.” All three nodded and grinned, as if simply joining the Dark Watch turned you into a badass heap of man like Jax.
I forced even breaths in and out, reminding myself that these were kids, barely out of school and probably not yet understanding that they’d just sold their souls to a demon in a brown suit.
“You guys part of the new crew?” The boy who’d stopped the elevator glanced at us over his shoulder. His open gaze zeroed in on me. I was in the middle. His bone structure and coloring reminded me of Miko’s. Instant fury rose up, because she was gone, and he was joining the man who’d killed her. “This is our first assignment.”
No kidding. It was hard not to ask why he looked so proud to be a spanking new member of the arm of oppression that reached across the galaxy. Would he wake up one day and wonder why he was doing the dirty work of a totalitarian regime that had replaced democracy? Would he choose a new path and change his life? Or would that easy, boyish smile gradually twist into a sneer as power over others corrupted him?
“Maintenance,” I said curtly.
He seemed to expect more, but I didn’t feel like chatting.
He turned back around, looking a little cowed and awkward. After a moment, he and his buddies laughed about something they’d done down on Ewelock the night before, a last hurrah before active duty. Apparently, twins were involved, which was frankly too much information for a crowded elevator.
MH flashed on the upper screen, the lift stopped, and the doors opened.
The three new recruits mumbled goodbyes without looking back at us and quickly exited, still laughing and bumping shoulders with each other. Shade was the only one who managed to mumble a goodbye back. I was too busy wanting to bash their heads together.
We hit Lower Z without meeting anyone else, which was a small miracle considering the moving-day bustle.
As the lift stopped, Shade leaned close to my ear and murmured, “You weren’t very friendly to those kids.”
“They’re not my friends,” I answered.
The doors opened, and I leaned cautiously forward, checking the corridor up and down for a Red Beam. No security drones in sight. I stepped into the deserted hallway, not surprised that Lower Z was dead. The last level of each alphabet tier was mainly used to house the big systems for that section. I could hear the low hum of the air and water recycling units that took up most of the level, along with the cluster of phasers that protected the bottom of the spacedock.