All the emotions I’m trying to swallow are trapped in my throat. I take a moment, close my eyes. Still, no one speaks: we have never had a meeting so silent as this, not once. We are in even worse shape than I thought.
“We may be imploding,” I go on, “and we are definitelyfrustrated, and tired, and nothing we’ve tried hasfixedanything, and we are running out of time to fix it.” I don’t throw out hard numbers—everyone saw how little clean water was left in that one orb. If we place a station-wide ban on showers, at least we’ll have drinking water for another day, maybe two.
“But”—I pause, wait until I have eye contact from each and every one of them, even Natalin—“we aren’t dead yet. We can figure this filter thing out, therehasto be a way.”
“And the virus?” Haven cuts in. “Even if we figure the filter out, what’s our plan with that?”
“The new strain we might’ve brought back? Or do you mean themurders?” Zesi says, and all heads turn.
“Youtoldhim?” My words are knives, aimed straight at Leo’s heart. How could he? How could he share that, when it took so much faith for me to confide that much in him?
Everyone is talking now, so many voices so many words so muchnoise, so loud loud loud they lace together like a tightly spun spiderweb. I can’t pick apart the individual questions, I only know that the faltering hope we had—the tenuous trust we had in each other—just took a major hit. Perhaps a devastating one.
“Yes,” I say, my voice like iron as it cuts through all the others. The noise falls away, and I take a deep breath. Like it or not, the terrible secret is out. “The recent deaths—someone killed them on purpose.” Someone could be killing again as we speak, and I hate that my time and energy and attention are sodesperately fractured right now. There is too much at stake on every front, too little time.
It is also not lost on me that that someone might be in this very room. I don’t truly believe that to be the case, because the panic on their faces isreal. But what kind of scientist would I be to rule an entire group out based purely on my own feelings?
“You weren’t going to say anything to us, Lindley?”To me, I hear underneath Heath’s words.You weren’t going to say anything tome?
“Butwhywould someone do this?” Haven says, her voice rising with every word. “It doesn’t make any sense. And how? How did they do it and make it look so... so... so much like the virus?”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out,” I say. “I didn’t want anyone to panic, so I’ve been trying to learn as much as I could on my own before I called for lockdown or told anyone... else.” I give Leo a pointed look: I still can’t believe he told Zesi. I never explicitly told him not to, and I never explicitly mentioned the deeper reasoning behind keeping it a secret—because how do we know, for sure, whodidn’tdo it? Leo spilling this secret: not helping my trust issues.
“Figure out thehowand you’ll land on thewho.” Natalin’s voice is heavy, sharp. “Maybe you should go get to work on that, Lindley, before anyone else dies? Clearly you don’t need our help.”
Her eyes are a challenge. I turn mine to steel, straighten myshoulders. She’s just anxious, I tell myself. Fearful, and past the point of freaking out. She does this every time, shifts the blame wherever she can—she doesn’t want any slight weight of failure to fall on her shoulders. Notherfault if I can’t figure out how to stop the deaths. Not her fault.Myfault.
“Yeah, you’re right,” I say, betraying no emotion. “I should go get to work. I really don’t do enough around here.”
I don’t want to bear the weight of failure, either. Ican’t. A person can only bear so much.
So I won’t fail. I promise this to myself, because other people’s lives depend on it—and my own life does, too—
I. Will. Not. Fail.
45
SPITFIRE
LEO RUNS OUT after me, calls my name over and over.
I don’t stop.
“I’m so sorry, Linds, I’m so sorry”—he is breathless when he catches up to me—“I thought maybe Zesi could help us look through the security feeds, so I told him in private. I thought I washelping, Linds, I thought—”
“I told you that in confidence.” I pick up the pace, turn left, on autopilot to the lab at Portside. “I almost didn’t even tellyou. Do you not realize it could be anyone? Someone on this station killed them, Leo, and we can’t just go making assumptions about who did or did not do it.”
“Zesi seemed safe enough—”
“There’s your mistake,” I say, whirling to face him. “No oneis safe.”
“I’m safe,” he says. “You know I’m safe.”
“Are you? Are you really? Okay, I totally believe you because youtoldme you didn’t do it.” I’m just spitting fire now, and Iknow he doesn’t deserve this, but he’s here and I can’t stop. “I honestly know you don’t have it in you tomurderpeople, Leo, but do you see my point? We don’t know anything. Not a single thing. Everything I thought I knew flipped on its head the instant I discovered these deaths happened because someone wanted them dead—we can’t afford to make assumptions. We make assumptions, we die.”
We stand there, staring at each other, for a single moment—and then he nods, conviction taking over: conviction and determination. Something I said must have clicked.
“Okay,” he says. “Okay. What can I do? How can I make this up to you, Linds? I’m so sorry. I get it now. I want to help.” A beat passes, a breath. “I’m so sorry I messed this up.”
