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It may be a monitor,but this was no movie. The bloated face staring back through the screen belonged to a woman who came down here for a vacation and would never see the sun again.

“I’m going to be sick,” I said to no one in particular. But Alyssa had already clutched her stomach and was hyperventilating.

“Computer,” she said between breaths. “Seal off sector 4E. No human admission. Evacuate anyone still on premises. I want that body brought to the med lab without anyone seeing it. Notify Dr. Doyle and Mrs. Bennet immediately. Shit.”

“All commands will be complied with except the last, Dr. Forbes. I am incapable of human excretion.”

Alyssa buried her face in her hands and muttered, “I did not sign up for this.”

I placed a tentative hand on her arm. “Hey, you handled that really well.”

She peered out from beneath her palms, paler than I’d ever seen her, and swallowed.

“Thanks, Sam. I better get up there. I need to find out for myself if this had anything to do with the glitch in the system.”

“I’ll come with you, but it was probably natural causes.” I wasn’t convincing anyone, least of all myself.

* * *

The med lab was a small building that reminded me of a first aid station at a theme park. The entire way over I kept trying to push the image of the body out of my mind. Not only was I unsuccessful, but by the time we arrived, her bloated face had been replaced by one of my own mother, staring blankly ahead.

Grateful to be out of time to dwell on my morbid thoughts, I focused on the scene before me. Mrs. Bennet, an older gentleman I presumed to be the doctor, and Graham gathered around a cot in the center of the room. Two robot staff members stood at the head and foot, very still. An unsettling smell permeated the air.

Stacy tapped a foot against the tile floor, filling the small space with a clack-clack-clack. I desperately wanted to grab hold of her ankle to stop it. Those thoughts disappeared as soon as I saw what lay on the cot.

The body, swollen to the point of looking unreal, lay naked, caked in dried mud. Her eyes still stared open and empty at the ceiling.

Luckily there was a counter complete with sink beside me because I vomited on the spot.

The doctor rushed over to place a hand on my shoulder. “Are you all right? This woman shouldn’t be in here!”

The robots sprang to life, and I jumped. Alyssa quickly said, “Sam helped find the body while working with me on the engineering deck. She’s my right-hand man.”

The robots hesitated, and I gazed at Alyssa in appreciation. Right-hand man, eh? It almost made up for my less than impressive introduction. Stacy strode over to us between the robots and surveyed me up and down.

“Good work, Miss Meadows. I have an eye for talent.” She barked at the robots to stand down, which they did. “Now that we’re all here, what can you tell us?”

Alyssa recounted what happened. Her scanner hung open above the deceased woman’s wristband that bit into swollen flesh. While I regurgitated the contents of my stomach, she’d already started her examination of the victim’s tech. I had to admit I was impressed.

“Name of the deceased?” Stacy barked when Alyssa finished and resumed her attention to the hand-held scanner in her grip.

To my surprise, Graham answered. “Lakewood. Fifth floor, Mermaid’s Cove. She had a last-minute appointment booked at the spa.”

“Dr. Doyle?” Stacy said, not missing a beat. “I need to know cause of death ASAP. Miss Meadows, please assist Dr. Forbes in reviewing the recording to see if anyone has seen this. Above all, we cannot let word of this get out.”

“Wait a minute,” I said, stepping toward her and trying my best to avoid looking at the body on the cot that Dr. Doyle was currently examining. “You mean to say, you aren’t going to tell people? What if this is contagious? Hell, even if she died of natural causes, don’t you think others have the right to know? What about her family?” I practically screamed, but couldn’t stop myself.

“Calm yourself, Miss Meadows.” Something in the way Stacy said it forced my mouth shut.

I’d crossed a line, but I didn’t care. The ethical ramifications were not something I was willing to go along with. I folded my arms across my chest, partially in defiance, and partially to hide the trembling in my hands. That’s when Graham stepped over to join us. “What’s he doing here anyway?” I didn’t remember Alyssa mentioning his name to the computer.

“Mr. Chaplin is our PR expert. He has a master’s in psychology. I’d say he’s exactly the right person to handle this…situation,” Stacy said.

Graham grinned at me like we shared a secret. Even in jeans and a T-shirt he felt slimy. He was technically handsome, I guess, but all I could think of was an oily con artist.

“I know how it looks, Sam.” How dare he use my first name? “But think about it. What do you suppose the reaction would be if this got out?” He waited.