Chapter 33
THIRTY-THREE
EDDIE
THREE DAYS LATER
The buzz from his tab pulled Eddie from sleep. It was dark in their quarters; Jett lay curled beside him, one arm across Eddie’s waist, forehead pressed into Eddie’s side.
“Stone here,” he muttered, voice clogged with sleep.
“Eddie, it’s Maria. We can’t get ahold of the Captain.”
He blinked as the words sunk in. “When was the last time anyone heard from him? Could he just be sleeping?”
“Not a word from his personal or room tab for twenty hours now.”
Eddie slid out of the bed, leaning over to kiss Jett on the forehead. “I will be on the Bridge in twenty minutes.” He dropped the call and slid the tab across the bedside table.
“Wha’s up?” Jett murmured from within the blankets. His dark hair covered the soft pillowcase, eyes barely open enough for Eddie to see the golden ring’s soft glow. One hand rested in the spot that Eddie just left, like he’d been reaching for his warmth.
“We gotta go to work, love. Augustus is missing.”
Jett’s eyes snapped open, scanning Eddie as he pulled random clothing on. “Missing?”
“He isn’t answering his tab and his tracker’s not working.”
Eddie hated that he didn’t feel anything particular at this moment. He wasn’t worried or concerned or curious. He just operated on autopilot as he felt the first tinges of dread creep into his stomach, stretch tendrils toward his throat.
“I really don’t like the sound of that.” Jett stretched and pulled himself from bed, groaning.
He waved Eddie away with a tired hand. Eddie watched as he slowly pulled on his own clothing and armed himself.
His movements were stiff, his hands and legs shaking, but Jett glared at Eddie whenever he attempted to help.
When they were both dressed, Eddie led them out of their quarters and down the hall, heading for the elevators. He slowed and stopped as they passed Augustus’s door, an idea tugging at his brain.
“What is it?” Jett asked from next to his shoulder.
Eddie turned to the door. “I think I can override his door to check if he is inside.” Deep in a never-ending pit of folders and subfolders on his tab, Eddie found what he was looking for: a list of circumstances in which the First Officer could take command of the ship.
“Huh,” he said as he scrolled the list. “That’s not what I was expecting.”
“What?” Jett’s voice was impatient. But there was a procedure that Eddie had to complete.
Eddie stepped up to the panel and buzzed the door. There was no answer. Nor was there an answer to the second and third hails. In the corner of his eye, Eddie saw people stop to stare, and lingered.
“You gonna keep doing that, Ed?” Jett asked. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, long hair brushing the top of his black turtleneck.
“I am doing what I must.” He pulled out his tab and hailed the Bridge.
Maria answered. “Yes, Eddie?”
He breathed through clenched teeth. “I need command of the Neo-Tokyo transferred to me.” Behind him, soft voices whispered. Beside him, Jett stood straight, eyes narrowed, hand reaching for his pistol.
“Based on what?”
“Lack of communication from Captain Ro-nold for a period of 12 hours in a crisis.”
There was a pause on the other end of the line.
“Transferring command.”
Something climbed Eddie’s spine. It felt like the buzz that accompanied the Song.
It wedged itself into the space between bone, wrapped itself around his spinal cord.
He stared at the door, ignoring Jett beside him and the small gathering of people crowding the hall behind him.
In the distance a thump, thump, thump slowed. Stopped.
“Completed.”
Eddie dropped the call and turned to Jett. He ignored the growing crowd of uniformed officers behind them. “I am going to force the door.”
He swiped his tab over it and punched in a long password. After a moment, it beeped and a green light flashed. Eddie turned around, staring at the people behind them. Jack Foley was there along with several other members of Security.
“Foley, keep everyone back.” Jack nodded and started waving people down the hall in both directions.
“What’s going on?” Jett stepped to Eddie’s other side, pistol held down. His hands were steady, his face set in a mask of concentration.
Eddie sucked in a breath. “I do not know what is on the other side of this door. But the Song is louder now that it should be.” He closed his eyes, willed the Song to play louder in his ears.
He heard a far-off scream and sparkle from a star dying.
“It is dampened, but it is there.” He wished it would show him what was in the room.
But he didn’t know if it could anymore. The rules had changed and he didn’t know them yet.
“Open the door. I’ve got your back.”
Eddie hit the prompt and the door slid open with a hiss.
Dim light from the hallway filtered into Captain Ro-nold’s quarters, casting strange shadows over the furniture.
Eddie had been in them before, when the Captain was off-duty and wanted to chat.
But today, the usually warm atmosphere was filled with a dreadful, electric feeling.
As Eddie stepped inside, the hairs on his arms stood on end and his throat closed up.
Nothing appeared out of place, but everything felt wrong. The captain’s uniform was neatly folded on top of the made bed, shoes set ready on the floor. A cup sat next to the desk tab, the screen on.
Jett slipped around his side and walked into the quarters, checked the corners, the bathroom. “He isn’t here.”
Eddie nodded and stepped to the desk tab.
On the screen was a picture of two people.
One was obviously a younger Captain Ro-nold, and the other was another Centaurian with dark skin and long, thick braids pulled over one shoulder.
They were smiling at each other in a way that let Eddie know this was the person that Augustus had given up in favor of his career.
Beside the picture, his messaging app was open. One voice message sat, waiting to be sent. Eddie hit play.
“It has been a long time, but I heard your voice again in the corridor. I almost forgot what it sounded like…I never should have let you go.”
“What was that?”
Eddie sighed and turned off the tab. “I need you to do whatever you can to locate the captain’s tracker. Kort or Loria will be able to help you.”
A small hand grabbed his arm above the elbow. “Are you okay?”
Eddie put his hand over Jett’s. “I am fine.”
“We’ll find him. I promise.”
“Do not make promises you cannot keep, love,” Eddie responded, almost without thinking about it. “I do not know if he can be found.”
“Did you have another vision?”
“No. Not a vision. Just a feeling.”
Jett squeezed his arm and left. The sudden lack of warmth almost staggered Eddie. He stood there, listened as Jett spoke with the Security officers in the hall, and looked around the room. He heard Jett’s boots on the floor as they disappeared down the hall, counted seconds as they passed.
Buzz.
Crack.
Eddie steadied himself, pressed both palms into the desk, as the Song hit.
Ripping. Tearing.
Blood under fingernails.
Bones cracked and oozing marrow.
Skin stitched to fabric.
Muscle and organs and eyes littering the floor.
Eddie cried out as he came to, but there was no one to hear him.
The Song weighed on his mind, lodged in the folds.
It battered him with image after image of blood-soaked hands and bodies hidden in the dark corners of rooms and alleys.
He felt skin tear from still living people, watched as eyes were plucked out by hands coated in gore, heard the crack of bones breaking. Heat from marrow burned those hands.
Then the images stopped. And Eddie was left with the lingering image of a blood-spattered suit embroidered with the name RO-NOLD.