Dead Space by Kali Wallace (e novels to read online .TXT) 📗

how little regard she had for her fellow crew members.”

A few seconds passed. Delicata nodded stiffly. “I understand.”

“Go. I’ll take care of the rest. I have to update HQ.”

Sigrah went into the comms room, Delicata back to Res. The argument had made little progress: Vera and King were determined to go into the tunnels, while others were still trying to persuade them to wait for more information. Ryu was sitting on the edge of a table in the mess, rubbing their eyes tiredly. They glanced up at Delicata as he passed. Without speaking to anybody, he walked straight through the common room and disappeared into his private quarters.

In the comms room, Sigrah punched in her access code for the two-way radio, then entered a second personal code. In Parthenope systems, the second layer of security would encrypt the message and disguise the identities and locations of the sender and recipient. She said, “This is an emergency update regarding Sunburn. The situation is unstable. I request immediate assistance for containment and mitigation. I repeat: the Sunburn situation has become unstable, and I request immediate assistance.”

“Who is she talking to?” I asked.

“The location is Hygiea. The recipient of the encrypted communication is unidentified,” said the Overseer.

Not really a surprise. Radio encryption like that was available only to people at higher levels in the Parthenope corporate structure. Somebody on Hygiea would probably be able to identify the recipient, if they did the right kind of digging, but Nimue’s Overseer had no way of doing so with any certainty.

“What is Sunburn?” I asked. “I’ve heard that name before.”

“That information is not available.”

On the screen, Sigrah was repeating her request. “The Sunburn situation is unstable. A Sunburn-approved crew member is disobeying direct orders and may be in possession of unauthorized material. I request immediate assistance for containment and mitigation from the nearest response team. Please respond with an ETA.”

“Response team?” I said. “What is she talking about? Are there Parthenope ships nearby?”

“The nearest vessel is Parthenope Enterprises transport Wellfleet, en route from Hygiea.”

“Really? There’s already somebody on their way here? What’s their purpose?”

“Wellfleet was dispatched to retrieve the Safety Officers at the conclusion of their investigation.”

“We didn’t request retrieval, did we?”

“There is no request on record prior to Foreperson Sigrah’s request for emergency assistance.”

Of course there wasn’t. It would have had to come from Adisa or van Arendonk, and neither of them had given any indication they were ready to leave before we figured out what was going on. It wouldn’t matter. Whoever had arranged for Wellfleet to come to Nimue would no doubt be able to offer a perfectly legitimate reason for dispatching the ship before it was requested. The time involved, the seriousness of the situation, the concern about future danger to the crew.

And Sigrah had known all along they were on their way.

Sigrah was still talking. “I’m secure for now, but I don’t know the status of the others. They might be dead already. All of them. I’ve lost control. I have no contact with other crew. I’m requesting immediate emergency and evacuation procedures for the protection of Sunburn.”

“What the fuck?” I said.

I stared at the screen. Checked the time stamps on the surveillance. Stared some more, my heart thumping with sudden fear. Sigrah was standing in the comms room, speaking into the radio, without the least trace of fear or concern on her face. Because she was not in any danger. She had not lost control of anything. She looked up at the camera in the comms room, one eyebrow raised. She knew she was being watched—she knew her lies were recorded—and she did not care.

In the mine, Adisa and I had reached Level 8 and were approaching Neeta Hunter warily. In Res, the rest of the crew were still discussing the best way to search the transport tunnels. About three minutes after he had entered his private quarters, Delicata emerged with a box in his hands, the same one I had found on the table in Res. It was gray and metal and about half a meter square. He set it on the end of a table.

I hadn’t seen the label stamped on one side before, but I could see it clearly now: R9.3.

Recluse 9.3. Those were the spiders. The spiders were right fucking there and nobody had any idea.

Delicata snapped open the latch and lifted the lid. He took something out, something small enough to fit in the palm of his hand, and closed the lid but did not latch it. He tested the lid, made sure the latch didn’t catch, and looked around. Nobody was watching him. He left the box on the table and walked out of Res and headed for Ops. He tapped on the door of the comms room. When Sigrah opened it, he handed her the small device he was carrying.

“Go keep an eye on them,” Sigrah said. “Try to keep things calm.”

Delicata nodded, but his expression showed only confusion. He turned to leave, but he stopped when van Arendonk came out of the systems room at the end of the corridor to make his radio call to Adisa and me down in the mine. He paced at the end of the corridor as he spoke, but when he saw Delicata and Sigrah, he turned and headed toward them.

I wanted nothing more than to jump to my feet to warn him, to warn all of them. It had all played out over an hour ago. There was nothing I could do. My heart was pounding and my throat was tight and every instinct was telling me to run, shout, do something. But it was too late. All I could do was watch in horror.

Van Arendonk told Delicata and Sigrah that Adisa and I were on our way back up with Hunter. Sigrah nodded at Delicata, who followed van Arendonk into the junction. She closed the door to Ops behind them and tapped at the device in her hands.

In the mess, the first long, silver