exhausted and overwhelmed, and despite the help, felt very alone in the middle of this crisis—these crises.
It didn’t matter how much Flint protected her from the political consequences of the decision they had just made, if this contact was going to harm Armstrong, word would get out that she had allowed him to enter. Not that that mattered to her. She often said she was the least political person she knew—even though she had somehow become the most important leader on the Moon.
Even if something went wrong and no one found out, it would still matter. Because DeRicci would know she had let this man in.
And the mistake would weigh on her for the rest of her life.
She burped again, started to run a hand along her stomach to activate a chip that soothed the stomach, and then stopped. She couldn’t remember how many times she had done that already today, and at some point, she would overuse the technology and it would stop working.
Maybe it already had.
She took a deep breath and leaned her head back. There was more to the contact than Flint or Talia was letting on. That man had some connection to their shared past. Clearly, that meant he had something to do with Talia’s relationship with Flint.
The man had been a police officer at the Valhalla Basin Police Department. He would have known something about the death of Flint’s ex-wife. DeRicci had known Flint for years. He didn’t trust easily.
Something in the interaction with Flint and this VBPD detective made Flint trust the man. And made Talia care about him. Because she had seemed shocked to hear that the man was presumed dead.
DeRicci had relied on Flint’s word when she made her decision. She had meant what she said about taking risks. Something else was coming; she could feel it in her bones—or maybe in her stomach.
And she didn’t really know what kind of action she could take to stop it.
She felt like the bad guys—whoever they were—were ahead of her. And if they were Earth Alliance officials, then they probably were ahead of her. They had access to the same information she did, and they had similar training.
They had known what she would do before she had done it.
She stood up, which sent a stab of pain through her stomach. She activated the soother after all.
She would deal with her own discomfort when this crisis was over. Right now, she had things to finish.
She needed to update her lists of the various investigations she was supervising. She also needed to continue her own internal investigation.
She was using the program that Flint had set up during the Peyti Crisis to scan faces here on the Moon. It infuriated her that the Peyti clones had been in plain sight the whole time. She hadn’t thought, after Anniversary Day, to look for a large subset of clones already on the Moon.
She had thought of it now, but the parameters were so much larger. She had no idea if she was looking for human clones or alien clones. And some aliens were so very alien, she wasn’t certain if the program would work.
She had broadened the scope, but that slowed the program down. And she wasn’t someone who could tinker with things and make them better.
Even before this new contact, Flint was following more promising leads. DeRicci didn’t want to interfere with his work there. And she wasn’t sure who else she could trust to tweak the program.
Maybe it wouldn’t take Flint long. Maybe she could ask him when he returned.
If all went well with this new contact.
She hoped it would. Because right now, she was stretched just about as far as she could go.
She wasn’t sure she could make it through one more crisis.
She wasn’t sure any of them could.
TEN
MARSHAL JUDITA GOMEZ stood in the arrivals area of the Port of Armstrong, feeling disoriented. She had spent months traveling to the Moon, and now that she’d arrived, she could barely accept that she was here. She had not traveled with this kind of goal before—and to
It didn’t matter how much Flint protected her from the political consequences of the decision they had just made, if this contact was going to harm Armstrong, word would get out that she had allowed him to enter. Not that that mattered to her. She often said she was the least political person she knew—even though she had somehow become the most important leader on the Moon.
Even if something went wrong and no one found out, it would still matter. Because DeRicci would know she had let this man in.
And the mistake would weigh on her for the rest of her life.
She burped again, started to run a hand along her stomach to activate a chip that soothed the stomach, and then stopped. She couldn’t remember how many times she had done that already today, and at some point, she would overuse the technology and it would stop working.
Maybe it already had.
She took a deep breath and leaned her head back. There was more to the contact than Flint or Talia was letting on. That man had some connection to their shared past. Clearly, that meant he had something to do with Talia’s relationship with Flint.
The man had been a police officer at the Valhalla Basin Police Department. He would have known something about the death of Flint’s ex-wife. DeRicci had known Flint for years. He didn’t trust easily.
Something in the interaction with Flint and this VBPD detective made Flint trust the man. And made Talia care about him. Because she had seemed shocked to hear that the man was presumed dead.
DeRicci had relied on Flint’s word when she made her decision. She had meant what she said about taking risks. Something else was coming; she could feel it in her bones—or maybe in her stomach.
And she didn’t really know what kind of action she could take to stop it.
She felt like the bad guys—whoever they were—were ahead of her. And if they were Earth Alliance officials, then they probably were ahead of her. They had access to the same information she did, and they had similar training.
They had known what she would do before she had done it.
She stood up, which sent a stab of pain through her stomach. She activated the soother after all.
She would deal with her own discomfort when this crisis was over. Right now, she had things to finish.
She needed to update her lists of the various investigations she was supervising. She also needed to continue her own internal investigation.
She was using the program that Flint had set up during the Peyti Crisis to scan faces here on the Moon. It infuriated her that the Peyti clones had been in plain sight the whole time. She hadn’t thought, after Anniversary Day, to look for a large subset of clones already on the Moon.
She had thought of it now, but the parameters were so much larger. She had no idea if she was looking for human clones or alien clones. And some aliens were so very alien, she wasn’t certain if the program would work.
She had broadened the scope, but that slowed the program down. And she wasn’t someone who could tinker with things and make them better.
Even before this new contact, Flint was following more promising leads. DeRicci didn’t want to interfere with his work there. And she wasn’t sure who else she could trust to tweak the program.
Maybe it wouldn’t take Flint long. Maybe she could ask him when he returned.
If all went well with this new contact.
She hoped it would. Because right now, she was stretched just about as far as she could go.
She wasn’t sure she could make it through one more crisis.
She wasn’t sure any of them could.
TEN
MARSHAL JUDITA GOMEZ stood in the arrivals area of the Port of Armstrong, feeling disoriented. She had spent months traveling to the Moon, and now that she’d arrived, she could barely accept that she was here. She had not traveled with this kind of goal before—and to
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