I had to slam my back against the wall to stop myself from collapsing in relief.
Vee is ten and more than capable of spending a week away from me—I’m not a Velcro mum. But the grim twist of Opal’s mouth, when her expressions are usually as blank as a metal sheet, spoke volumes. My heart continued to pound in my throat. Even if Vee wasn’t hurt, somethingclearly wasn’t right. Opal has worked for Dominik nearly as long as Vee’s been alive—making her just as much a part of this dynamic, if not more, as Dominik—but we arenotfriends. We don’t just call each other.
Her face only bloomed further, the holo so defined I could count every crease of the frown etched into her skin. She’d been given orders to collect Vee from school instead of sending an autonav like usual. At first, she hadn’t thought much about it; Dominik had left for Mars the day before on a friend’s ship, claiming last-minute business needs. But when he told Opal to bring Vee, along with all his belongings, to the Gryphon hangar on the outskirts of the city... Opal did some snooping.
“TheMidasis scheduled to leave for Suryavana at six this evening,” Opal said. “Vee’s on the passenger manifest.”
Dominik has a sprawling compound on the Martian colony, Suryavana. On the occasions we’ve exchanged more than three words with each other, it’s never come up. If it doesn’t involve Vee, I don’t care what he does, and I’ve always made that clear to Dominik.
Suddenly he’d decreed, as though Vee was an afterthought, that our son would move out there.
Kidnapping is the technical term here. Now I’m crouched in the shadow of this huge fucking ship, hoping to find Vee before it launches him into space.
Great. Wonderful. Brilliant. I’m not sweating through my clothes or forcing back tears at all.
What worries me most is notgettingon that ship; it’s being caught sneaking onto it. Dominik is wealthy and connected. Getting caught slinking around on his property, mother of his child or not, opens me up to legal action. He’s petty like that. He could take me to court again; this time winning full custody by painting the trespassing mother as irresponsible, unstable or unsafe. I don’t want to give him any ammunition to use against me. Ican’t.
As I blink away a tornado of emotions, I straighten up until I’m standing for the first time in half an hour. A heavy wave of dizziness swoops over me. I barely manage to stay on my feet. But there’s no one here except for me and some very expensive equipment. I’m hoping that onboard, this close to launch, all the crew members are busy.
Muscles protesting, I propel myself across the open expanse.
It feels like forever to round the port side. At the last second, one of the droids moves into view, hauling an armful of tools. I manage to skirt around it, rather than barrel directly into itswide body, but I almost slip on a small puddle of liquid in the process. I’m forced to stop and catch my balance.
Its humanoid head sports an OLED display. It turns to track my movements—all six feet of it—and a scrolling dataset is wiped from the screen.
I pant, backing away from it slowly, feeling like prey. Terrified. Maybe they are programmed for security, and now I’m fucked.
The data is replaced with a human expression, limned in red. A virtual mouth curls into an almost painful smile.
But it doesn’t flag me as an intruder. No alarms go off. No lights flash. The droid just continues on its long legs.
Violently nauseous with relief, I run. Every breath knifes out of me like I’m coughing up shards of glass. My pulse thunders in my ears, drowning out any other sound. Practically launching myself up the ramp, I eat up the distance like my life depends on it, and I only stop moving when I skid into the huge cargo bay. I have to pass through two sets of open, reinforced doors to do so, one set separating the outer airlock from the bay.
Sleek, metallic bulkheads lined with LED strips display modular shelving units, the same efficient kind we use at Telluria Global Engineering. I also recognise the magnetic panels embedded beneath my feet. I step over thick cargo straps, noting multiple touchscreens on the bulkheads. So far so good, and no one is around to spot me.
A noise startles me, and I jump back, slotting into the gap between two suspended, robotic arms. They hang from tracks in the overhead. I crouch in their shadow, legs shaking so hard that it’s a relief to squat again.
A moment passes. I try to get my breathing under control. I press my hands to my pounding heart as if I can keep it in my chest by sheer will alone.
Another moment passes, and nothing ominous makes itself known. No one appears. And now that I’m focusing on my hearing, there is a low, buzzing hum all around me. A palm to the corrugated deck sends vibrations up my arm and into my teeth, an almost pleasant feeling.
From my hiding spot, I note the very subtle cameras dotted around the space. Dread swamps me, but it’s not like I can do anything about it. What are the odds anyone is checking the cameras right now?
It doesn’t matter anyway.
I bite my lip, glancing at the walkway between me and a wide, automatic door that must lead to the rest of the ship. A rushing sound roars in my ears, my hands are slick, my tongue heavy in my mouth—but I approach the door, completely exposed.
A panel to the side displays a touchpad, but there is a logo of a crossed-out key in the upper right corner. The door slides open with a soft hiss and a whoosh of air that blows my hair out of my face.
I can’t believe things are going my way.
Except I don’t know where to start the search. I could make my way methodically from bottom to top, but I don’t have that kind of time, not whilst staying inconspicuous. But I reckon, if theMidasis anything like Dominik’s mansion, there’s an arcade. There’s nothing Vee loves more than gaming, and it’s an interest they share.
I’ll start there. I just have to find it first.
I scurry through the passageways like a mouse, head swivelling as I peer into cabin after cabin. Some of them are locked, and I have no choice but to ignore those, but if my search ends in disappointment, I’ll circle back and try. Twice, I have to duck out of the way of an approaching crew member, looking sleepy and annoyed. Here, the cabins are presidentialand oversized, and it’s easy to find a hiding place. It helps that the crew don’t seem to be on alert and just sweep past.
My progress is slow, and I get increasingly more frustrated as I come up empty-handed. The low humming has become interspersed with occasional beeps, jarring my nerves. I move up to the higher decks and weave through passageways that house crew quarters and common areas with noticeably understated nameplates. My heart feels like it’s going to give out.
