Chapter 32
THIRTY-TWO
JETT
ONE WEEK TO CHARON
“Why is there a CDF warship joining the Neo-Tokyo?” Jett’s growl reverberated around the room.
Ra’ana stared him down with a passive, almost-smile on their face. “Quasar has noted the lack of improvement in our situation and called in reinforcements to ‘aid’ us with the evacuation.”
The evacuation was proceeding, but not without difficulties.
It was hard to gauge how many of the people who should be on each lifeboat were Affected, and how many were just staying behind.
Districts 1, 2, and 4 had a steady stream of tens of thousands of residents leaving, joining the flotilla of shuttles that followed the Neo-Tokyo.
They were but moths to the city-ship’s flame.
But, on a ship that housed a million souls, they were going too slow. And the number of Affected rose by the hour.
District 3 seemed to be where the epidemic started, but so far they’d uncovered nothing.
And many of the people they sent to the City did not return, so they stopped.
It was hard to tell how many Affected there were, because they now disappeared or were found elsewhere in the ship.
Some people swear they’d seen the Affected moving in the late hours of night, or the early hours of dawn.
Their limbs twisting through erratic movements that they saw out of the corner of their eyes.
But nothing was captured on camera, as if they moved faster than seconds ticked by.
“It seems as though we should have been informed of that development beforehand.” Jett spat through gritted teeth, doing his best to stay composed.
Ra’ana looked so pleased with themself that Jett wanted to bash the Cetian’s face in. He’d never liked them, and now he never would.
“Back-stabbing, corporate bootlicker.”
Ra’ana turned their large-eyed face to Jett. “What was that, Lieutenant? Did you have something intelligent to add to this conversation?”
Jett grimaced. “Nothing.”
“Then let us begin this call with the Oasis and her crew.”
Jett pulled himself out of his chair and stood behind Eddie, one protective arm draped over Eddie’s shoulder. He didn’t care what it looked like—he wasn’t letting Eddie out of his sight. Jett would be his body guard, his watch dog, his knife if Eddie asked it of him.
The tab screen brightened and resolved into two views: one a Boardroom with Quasar Directors, and the other a military Command Room with a bulky man with short greying hair and a bar mustache. Jett hissed under his breath.
“These are Directors Kulln, A’gan, and Commander Blaine of the CDF.”
Captain Ro-nold stood beside the tab screen, lines of worry and fatigue etched lines on his face. In just a few days he’d started to look his great age, a reminder that he and the ship were both sailing into retirement.
“Directors, this is Captains Ro-nold and Stone, as well as Lieutenant Jett Valla, and the Heads of Security, Medical, and Tech.”
Ra’ana turned to the second screen. “And this is Commander Blaine with the Charon Defense Force Search and Rescue division.”
Jett seethed. The man who had ended his previous life was here at the turn of the tide for his current one. He clenched his free hand into a fist to keep himself from shaking. Hate bubbled in his gut, threatening to spill over into words he wouldn’t be able to take back.
“Our ETA is 80 hours to your location, Neo-Tokyo. Do you have everything under control?”
Eddie huffed. “We have everything as under control as possible.” Jett was proud of him for showing less deference than normal. For not being cowed by rank and power.
“I was asking the Captain of the Neo-Tokyo, who I believe is Augustus Ro-nold.” The man’s voice oozed poison. It coated everything in reach with a stickiness that was more atmosphere than anything else.
“Any question you ask me can be answered by Captain Stone as well, Commander.”
Eddie and Captain Ro-nold updated the Board and Commander Blaine on their course, the evacuation, and the numbers of Affected, while Jett did his best to stand there and look menacing toward Blaine.
“And there is, as yet, no known cause for what happened?” a Board member asked. Jett hadn’t cared to attach names to faces and voices earlier.
“No,” the Head of Medical answered. “It appears to be psychosomatic, as several people have mentioned hearing something on board the ship. We do not know if everyone who is Affected heard this so-called Song beforehand.”
“Any reports of violence?”
“None, as of yet.”
Jett shivered, glad of the answer.
Blaine seemed to stare directly at Jett, peer into his soul, and deem him inadequate, but the rest of those present stood by him and agreed.
“We are focused on the evacuation before anything else, and will deal with violence should it happen,” Eddie said.
The call ended almost before it started. And Jett had a raging headache from glaring at Blaine the whole time.
“I do not know what that call achieved, but it is done,” Eddie said.
Captain Ro-nold sighed and slouched, a hand pressed against his deeply shadowed eyes. “Indeed. And now it is time for us to rest.” He nodded to each of them, and exited the room, a shadow of his usual self.
Eddie made to follow, but Jett pressed him back into his seat. “Let him go,” Jett said. “He’s losing the home he built. It can’t be easy on him.”
Eddie nodded. “I know. Just as I know that he would not admit to anything bothering him…But maybe he would talk to me.”
Jett slid around and knelt before Eddie. “Ed, you look like shit. You need to eat and sleep before you do anything else.”
Those piercing green eyes searched Jett and then closed as the bigger man nodded. “You are right, love. You are right.”