Page 38 of Jarran

She glanced at the tub and the three bound figures, piled together, unconscious. “Fuck, Jarran.”

“I knew their training.” The words tasted sour. “I designed it.”

She held his gaze for a beat. Then she turned practical. “Search Durik for the implant’s control device. If he has it on him, we need it.”

Jarran went back to the tub. He searched Durik thoroughly. Nothing. No device. No remote. Nothing but a standard comm unit and a folding blade.

“Not on him,” Jarran said.

Evie pressed her lips together. “Worth checking. If he’d been carrying it, he probably would have tried to use it on you.” She paused. “Which means it’s somewhere else on this ship.”

“Or someone else has it.”

“Either way, we can’t get it now.” She was already looking past the problem, her mind moving forward. He could see it happening behind her eyes. “The door is unlocked.”

He looked at her.

“Durik walked in. The suite door is open.” She met his gaze. “How long before someone notices he’s missing?”

Jarran pulled the information from the place in his head where Pella Rin’s knowledge lived. Shift rotations. Chain of command. Reporting protocols. “Durik reports to no one. He runs this operation with a small command staff. The females likely answer to him directly. If he doesn’t appear for a scheduled briefing, someone will come looking, but if he doesn’t…” He calculated. “If we’re going to make a move, we need to do it now.”

“Then let’s make a move.” She was already walking toward the bedroom. There was no panic in her voice, but he could hear the nerves. “We need to change clothes.”

She opened the wardrobe and pulled out two sets of dark clothing. Close-fitting. Black. “Will these work out there?”

Jarran recognized the style. It was similar to Sifter crew gear, but clearly designed for people—them—who were not Sifters. “Close enough.”

Evie tossed his set to him and peeled off her nightclothes. “This is insane.”

He turned his back and changed quickly. The black clothes fit him well. Too tight, of course, but that seemed to be how everyone around here dressed. The fabric was thick and dark and when he caught his reflection in the bathroom mirror, the Sifter tattoos on his forearms were hidden beneath the sleeves. He could pass for any crew member on this vessel, if only the great Pella Rin wasn’t so easily recognized.

Evie tugged the hem of her fitted black shirt and tucked every strand of her brown hair under a dark cloth she’d wrapped around her head. She was too short and soft to look like a Sifter, but in dim corridor lighting, at a distance, with her head down, she might pass for a servant.

“You look like a child wearing her brother’s clothes,” he said.

She glared at him. “You look like a war criminal. We both have problems. Let’s go.”

A sound came out of him that startled them both. He was almost positive it was a laugh. It was short, rough, and sounded a bit like a cough. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed.

Evie stared at him for a second. Then the corner of her mouth twitched.

“Needs work,” she said with a grin. “But I like it.”

He vowed to work on more laughing once they were out of this mess, if it meant earning more of her smiles. He checked the suite door. Unlocked, as she’d said. He pressed his ear against it and listened. The corridor beyond was quiet. He pulled the door open a crack and looked.

Empty. Dim lighting. The shift change would be happening now. Crews rotating, corridors clearing, the brief window when attention was elsewhere.

He took Evie’s hand. Her fingers were cold. They closed around his and held tight.

Jarran led them through the ship’s corridors with a clarity that turned his stomach. He knew this layout. The knowledge was detailed and specific and it came from the part of his brain that knew the type of ship they were on. This was likely a mining vessel that had been converted to a mobile base. They looked like slow-moving wrecks from the outside, but it was just a disguise. And they could go just about anywhere. Supply routes would be masked as shipping lanes. The corridors, the security placement, the shift rotations. All of it based on protocols Pella Rin had established.

He used those protocols now to game the system. Left at the junction. Right past the equipment bay. Straight through the cargo corridor where the overhead lights were spaced too far apart and the surveillance vids had a blind spot at the halfway point. He counted steps. He timed their movement to the gaps between security sweeps. Evie walked close behind him, her footsteps almost silent.

A guard rounded the corner ahead.

Jarran lowered his gaze, rounded his shoulders, and continued walking with purpose. As he hoped, the guard didn’t so much as glance at him.

When they were past, he glanced back at Evie. Her expression was pure relief.