Page 180 of Tracked and Taken

“Talk to me.”

“Two contractors came in. One on the back-door feed I’m sure is still bleeding somewhere on Junction One. The second is on me. He cleared the south service corridor sixty seconds after I did. He has Charlie’s photograph on a comm tag and he is going to make another attempt.”

“Thane.”

“He is going to take it Vosk, so I am taking her off-station now.”

“Where?”

“Not saying on this comm.”

“Thane—“

“Vosk.”

A beat.

“All right. Check in when it’s secure. Don’t be reckless.”

“We’ll be out for some hours. Back when I am back. Tell Florence the bleeding contractor needs eyes on every medbay, every gray-market chemist, every back-corridor merchant who sells trauma kit without a manifest. He will, in the next ninety minutes, surface for treatment.”

“Copy.”

“Vosk.”

“Mm.”

“There is a thing I have to tell you and I would rather not.”

“Say it.”

A longer pause.

“My hands are stained, Vosk.”

“Stained.”

“Blue. The color does not come off. I have, in the last eight hours, washed twice. The color permanent on my skin.”

I look at Tael.

Tael’s eyes have gone still.

“Thane.”

“From the notebook, Vosk”

A pause.

“Thane. Is that—“

“In Korrhai law, yes.”

The room stills.

“Vosk. The first claim is made by the female. Not the male. She did it at 1447 this afternoon, at Florence’s desk, with a notebook full of ink she has been carrying on her hands for six months and the intent of putting her work in my hand. Her biology cannot tell that intent from the other intent. By Korrhai law, the two are the same intent. The mark is on my skin. The mark cannot now come out.”

“Does Charlie know?”