Derelict: Halcyone Space, Book 1 by Lj Cohen Page A

little set-up directly to the commander. I think she'd be very interested in what you have going on here."
    "Jem?"
    He whirled around to find Ro standing behind him.
    "This is your fault," Micah shouted, pointing at Ro.
    "I guess I need to get working on some security for this place," she said, shrugging one shoulder.
    Jem swiveled his head from Ro to Micah and back again. He didn't understand. Did Ro already know about the bittergreen? Was she part of it? His stomach clenched. Not Ro. It couldn't be Ro. She wouldn't want to hurt Barre, would she?
    ***
    Micah shook his head. Jem's threats would almost be funny, except for the fact his father had just screwed up Micah's last, best chance to get this strain right. The hell with him. The hell with Ro and this kid, Jem. He'd already lost everything he cared about, starting with his mother.
    "Those are not my drugs." He pointed down to the small packet of dried leaves at his feet. "And you," he glared at Ro. "You promised to leave me alone."
    "I heard voices."
    "Don't tell my parents that." Jem laughed and clamped his hand over his mouth.
    "Jem, what happened?" Ro asked, softly.
    "Ask him." He jabbed a finger at Micah.
    "Damn it, I have no idea!" Micah shouted. "He starts raving at me like some lunatic about bittergreen and his brother. Like I'm the one who poisoned him or something. If he's sick, it's not because of me or the drug." Jem was so not convinced. Micah saw it in the set of his thin shoulders, vibrating with his anger and the dark, hooded eyes. "Why the hell do you think I chose the stuff to work with in the first place?" It was pretty benign and if his mother had had a sure supply of it, her last weeks wouldn't have been a nightmare of pain and despair.
    The drug wasn't hard to grow, but the best strains were patented and completely controlled by the cartels. His attempts to get some for his mom were the beginning of the end for his father's political career and the start of Micah's botany experiments. He couldn't bring his mother back, but he could break the back of the cartels that ruined their lives.
    "All I know is Barre is unconscious in the infirmary and I found that packet of bittergreen next to him." Jem shot a poisonous look at Micah before turning back to Ro. "You do the calculations."
    Ro stepped forward to pick up the drugs. "Do you have what you need to analyze this?"
    Jem looked as if he had tasted something sour.
    Micah should have thought of that. If he hadn't been so angry, he probably would have. "Will you believe me if I show you the spectroscopic assays for the different strains?" He'd have to dry some of his new-growth leaves, but he should be able to prove his bittergreen had nothing to do with Jem's brother.
    At least that was something he could accomplish. Forcing his crop to accelerate its growth would probably result in stressed-out plants that wouldn't be able to set buds. He didn't know why he bothered.
    The small, dark-haired boy nodded and turned away.
    "Now get the hell out of my lab."

Chapter 8
    Ro placed her hand on Jem's shoulder and turned him away from Micah. "Come on." The tension in his body practically vibrated through her arm. "We'll only be in the way."
    He stared up at her, his eyes wide and unblinking, and let her lead him out of the bubble. "Can you find out anything about Barre?"
    "Maybe." That would mean getting dangerously close to Daedalus's primary processors. Skulking around the edges of its domain didn't raise any alarms, but trying to break into the infirmary systems might. "But first I need to ghost you."
    At least something went according to plan. She and Micah were already ghosting. If anyone asked Daedalus for them, her program made it appear as if they were somewhere else, at the opposite side of the station from the querent, and occupied. If there was a second request within a specific amount of time, or by the same person, it would ping their micros, depending on the importance of the one asking. She