Chapter Twenty-Five
Ruyn hadn’t thought the day could get any worse. He had no words to express his shock and outrage. They were the victims, but Tervik had accused them of being the criminals.
“That’s preposterous—and absolutely not true,” she snapped. “We have never colluded with any Prellim!”
This was how someone falsely accused reacted. The lack of equivocation in her denial stood in stark contrast to Korsan’s nondenial.
“We are not working with Murta or any other Prellim,” he added his own disavowal, so there would be no doubt. “And frankly, it pisses me off that you would accuse us.” He was getting madder by the second. He wanted to punch something—preferably this idiot Galpol agent!
“I spoke with Dr. Kurur. When he told you about the nanovirus, you immediately said it must have originated from Murta.”
Ruyn met her eyes, trying to send a signal. We have to tell him about Korsan. Implicating him was the last thing he wished to do, but they were facing a serious criminal accusation through no fault of their own.
Michaela gave a slight nod. “If you spoke to Dr. Kurur”—skepticism weighted her tone—“then you’d know, we’d just learned Murta’s identity.”
“How?”
“From my brother,” he said.
“How did he know?”
“I didn’t get a chance to ask,” she replied.
“He’d heard I’d taken ill and come to the hospital.
While Dr. Kurur ran tests on Ruyn, Korsan and I had a few minutes to chat.
I related how Dr. Kurur had asked a lot of questions about what and where I’d eaten.
When I told him we ate at Mama Murta’s Café, he told me to stay away from that place.
When I pressed him on why, that’s when he told me Murta was Prellim. Then the nurse came and got me.
“At that point, Ruyn didn’t know about Murta yet. But when Dr. Kurur told us Ruyn had been infected with a nanocyte that manufactured antigens, I put two and two together.”
“Where is Korsan now?”
“When I spoke to him last, he was in the comfort station.”
“I’ll need to speak with him.” Something about Tervik’s posture seemed smug.
“So, speak to him,” Ruyn said.
“If I have more questions for you, where can I find you?”
“Home. Waiting for Dr. Kurur’s colleague on Oberia to develop a cure.”
Tervik tapped into his tech tab. Ruyn’s and Michaela’s devices beeped with a notification. “I sent you my contact info. Keep me apprised of your movements.” The agent sauntered out of the quiet space, leaving a wake of turmoil.
“Cocky asshole,” she muttered. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think he seriously suspects us of colluding with Murta—I think it was a ruse to get us to spill the beans on Korsan.”
“It worked.” Ruyn sighed.
“I’m sorry.”
“There’s nothing else we could have done.” He rubbed his neck. “I’ll do whatever I can to help, except take the fall. There’s nothing worse than colluding with a Prellim. If he belongs to the cartel, he needs to be stopped.”
“Maybe he’s not involved. Maybe he just happened by chance to find out Murta is Prellim.”
“I hope so. That would be the best-case scenario.”
Michaela stood up. “Should we talk to him before Tervik does?”
“Good idea.” He stood. “But first—give me a hug.”
With a sigh, she relaxed in his arms. “I needed this, too. We’ll get through this.”
He hoped she was right. He brushed his closed mouth to hers, uncertain if he could kiss her. What if his saliva contained traces of the antigen? The situation was so phukked up. He gave her a squeeze and released her. “Let’s talk to Korsan.”
But when they got to the waiting area, he was gone. Instead, they found Agent Tervik.
“Any idea where he’d go?” the agent asked.
“His apartment or his office,” Ruyn answered.
“Other than that, your guess is as good as mine.” Before he could question them further, Ruyn took Michaela’s arm, and they left the waiting area.
Out of sight of the agent, he messaged his brother.
NEED TO SPEAK WITH YOU. URGENT. He hesitated, and added, PLEASE.
“Do you think we’ll hear from him?” Michaela asked.
“Probably not. I’m guessing he realizes he’s in deep trouble.”
* * * *
They had the hovercab drop them off at the office. His brother’s assistant was shutting down, getting ready to leave for the day. “Michaela! How are you doing? I heard you were ill…”
“I’m all right,” she replied.
“Is he in?” Ruyn asked.
“No. I haven’t seen him since he left for the hospital. Didn’t he catch you?”
“He did, but I still need to speak to him.”
“He hasn’t been back.”
“Has anyone else been looking for him?”
“Several managers and employees.” The assistant shrugged.
“No one from outside the company?”
“No…”
He thought it prudent to say no more. Revealing a Galpol agent might show up could be construed as interfering with an official investigation. They shouldn’t be trying to talk to Korsan at all, except it was the only way to discover what was going on. Tervik wouldn’t share any information.
The agent had been right about one thing. There were too many coincidences to be happenstance. And he had a horrible hunch his brother was in the center of it all. “If you do hear from him, would you tell him I need to talk to him?”
“Of course.”
“Have a good evening.”
“You, too. I’m glad you’re doing better, Michaela.”
“Thank you.”
They went to Korsan’s apartment next. Either he wasn’t home, or he refused to answer the door.
“What are you thinking?” Michaela asked as they stood outside.
“I think we should get out of here before Tervik shows up.” He ushered her down the hall, into a booster, and out of the building.
“Where would Korsan go?” she asked.
“Hopefully, not the spaceport.”
“You think he would flee? That would look bad for him. Should we try to intercept him?”
He shook his head. “If that was his intention, he’s gone already. Let’s go home.”
Midway to the apartment, he asked, “Are you hungry? Do you want to get something to eat?”
“I’m almost afraid to eat, but since we know it’s not the food I’m allergic to, I guess I should try. As long as it’s not Mama Murta’s,” she joked.
“Anything but that.” How had she fooled so many people for so long?
Would Galpol interview former leaders and high-ranking members of the military?
He recalled the raids of supposed cartel strongholds, which failed to nab a single Prellim and the ambushes by Prellim on Luturnan outposts.
How many government secrets had she passed to the cartel during her tenure? Murta had done irreparable damage.
“I would love to march into her café and tear the cap from her head and reveal what she is!” Michaela scowled.
“You wouldn’t get two steps to the door,” he said. Murta would kill her on the spot. Or Chaumi would. Or Murta’s husband. Was he Prellim, too? Or just a brainwashed sympathizer?
“Yeah. Besides, if it were that simple, Tervik would have done it.”
They doubled back to a café they’d frequented and ordered a familiar meal.
They were going through motions of normalcy, acting as if nothing unusual had happened when their lives had been upended.
In their building, two other residents boarded the booster with them but got off on lower floors. They continued up to their floor.
Korsan stood outside their unit.