“This is someone you’ll need to gently interview. You can’t just walk in and ask him who sabotaged the grid. He’s old, he’s wary, and if hedidsee something, he’s spent years not thinking about it, maybe on purpose. You go in hard, he closes up, and you lose your only witness. So we come at it sideways.”
“That’s what I thought.”
“Bring him something. Food, ideally — the old ones always talk more when they’re being fed, it puts them at ease, it makes it a visit instead of an interrogation.”
“Jana’s cooking. He always loved Jana’s cooking.”
“Perfect.” She’s lit up now, the tiredness gone out of her face. “Perfect. So it’s not an interview, it’s a visit. You brought an old friend some good food. You let him complain about his knees. You let him tell you three stories you don’t care about, and you don’t rush him, and you don’t take out anything that looks like a recorder or a notepad, because the second an old male thinks he’son the recordhe’ll clam up or start performing. And then, slow, when he’s comfortable, you get him talking about the old days. The work. Not the cascades — thework. Who he worked with when he was down there on the grid. Let him wander. The thing you want, he won’t know it’s the thing you want. It’ll be buried in a story about somebody’s bad wiring twenty years ago.”
“And if he doesn’t have it?”
“Then he doesn’t have it, and you’ve spent a pleasant afternoon chatting about old times with an older male who could use time with a friend.” She looks at me. “Nobody ever interviews the facilities tech. He might have been carrying a piece of this for years without a single soul ever thinking to ask him what he saw.”
“This feels like the first solid lead I’ve had since Hallie arrived.”
“Yes, go soon.” Ines nods. “Leads like this don’t stay warm. And Scar be careful, if Ordek matters to you, he mattered to them too.”
“I’ll be careful,” I promise.
Chapter Ten
Mara
The public transport out to the compound isn’t quick, and Andrew lets me know he finds it lacking in speed. “This is absurd,” he whines, as the transport rushes along and the lights of the colony flash past us. “Who lives this far out? Why are they on the edge of the jungle? Isn’t it supposed to be dangerous?”
I’ve got my face half-turned toward the window, watching the dark press up against the glass, the two green moons riding low over the canopy. “I guess they like their privacy.”
“They like being a forty-minute round trip from work.” He slumps in his seat. “I don’t get it. You’ve got the whole colony right there and you choose to live at the literal dead end of the road, near the predators at the edge of the jungle.”
I don’t answer, because I don’t want to argue, and I don’t feel the same. I like it out here. The ride is enjoyable and I like the way the colony thins and gives way to the wild green dark. And when the transport lets us off and we walk the last stretch up the road on foot the jungle closes and drips on both sides, somethingtrills in the canopy, the air is warm and thick with blossom. The compound finally comes into view at the end of the street, low and long and lit up gold against the trees. I actually stop for a second, in awe of the natural beauty of these surroundings.
“There it is,” Andrew mutters. “Fortress of solitude. It looks like a place where you’d get murdered.”
“I think it looks comfortable and charming.” And I mean it. It’s big and strange and set at the edge of everything. All the windows are lit and even from the road I can hear the muffled noise of a lot of people and children, all in one place. It looks like the kind of place a big family fortresses up and fills to the rafters with life. It looks, if I’m honest, like the exact opposite of every grey little place I’ve ever lived.
“Ugh,” Andrew grunts. “I’d much rather return to my high rise in Singapore. Remind me why we agreed to this?”
“Because we’re trying to network and make more friends so that later, they’ll remember to ask for us again if they need help, or they will refer us to someone else.”
He nods, takes a deep breath and continues forward.
In reality, I’m here to see Cayzor of Eight.
I smooth down the front of my skirt as we step up onto the porch. We’re both in civilian clothes and I find myself hoping that Cayzor likes my blue sundress.
Andrew knocks on the front door.
The door opens fast, like someone was already nearby. An enormous Margol Xylan fills the frame, and for one second his face is unreadable and then he smiles warmly. “You found us, good. I’m Chief, Crew Leader of the Fever Brothers and also the eldest brother living on the planet. Come in, come in, before the jungle does.”
I’ve heard good things about Chief. I smile in return and step inside. “It’s nice to meet you.”
Andrew greets him too, shaking hands.
Chief waves us into a wide foyer, and the noise of the house meets us. To the left I can see a living area with a fireplace and there is a long hallway.
And then I see Cayzor.
He’s standing just inside the foyer, looking devastatingly handsome in his civilian clothes. I have seen this male in a mine and in my own quarters, filling my too-small kitchen. I thought I had a handle on the specific problem of how good he looks. I thought I could act smoothly, ignoring how my body instantly heats up the moment he’s nearby.
