“Yes. I did. I could do all three. It was hard, but I needed the job.”

  “To steal things?” asked Danny.

  “I didn’t erase anything. I didn’t steal anything. I don’t know what’s going on. What’s happening?” Jake was definitely shaking now.

  Mr. Dashi shook his head again. “I wouldn’t have believed it. Mr. Stewart, the only thing you can do now is to come clean.”

  “Come clean?”

  “You are the first Belter student we’ve ever had. I know it’s rough out there, and I know it’s hard for you. I checked some of your story: the voyage in from the outer Belt must have taken a lot of hard work. I confirmed part of that. And you are still a young man.”

  Mr. Dashi tapped his screen again. “You do have an excellent academic record, Mr. Stewart. You didn’t fake that. You have done very well here. You would do very well with TGI in the future. You could do very well with TGI in the future. I don’t want to lose a potential good crewman just because you didn’t have the advantages that some others had. Just because you made some bad decisions is no reason to ruin your life.”

  “Mr. Stewart, just give us your coconspirators,” Mr. Dashi said. “We’ll find them eventually. We know you had to bribe some people, and we’ll find out who. It would much easier if you just told us who they were.”

  Jake stared at Mr. Dashi for a moment. Coconspirators? Who used a word like that?

  “There are no coconspirators, sir.”

  “You did all this yourself?”

  “No, sir, I mean there is no conspiracy. I just found about this this week. I reported to Danny about it. He said he’d look into it. He knew who was stealing. He set it up himself.”

  “Mr. Stewart, I expected better from you.” Mr. Dashi started ticking off items on his fingers. “We have evidence. We have your e-mails. We have your bank records. We have your deposits. We have irregularities in your work. We have Danny’s notes. He’s been suspicious of you from the start, and his evaluations reflect that. He set a trap for you; he had you send out those e-mails looking for the logs, and then as soon as he was away, you canceled them.”

  “Sir, I canceled them because he told me to. You have to believe me. I didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “Well, if that’s your line, then we have no other choice.”

  “No other choice? What’s happening?” Jake asked.

  Mr. Dashi leaned back and wiped his hands across his eyes. “What’s happening, Mr. Stewart, is that you are expelled, as of this instant. Your scholarship is revoked. The documents are in your e-mail. We are pursuing charges against you with the militia. Expect to hear from them. José and security are outside. They will escort you to your school locker and allow you to remove your personal effects, but no corporate property, including tablets and data devices. And that’s not the end of it. Station security will be with you shortly and turn you over to the militia.”

  He pressed a button on his desk. The door opened, and José stepped in.

  “Go,” said Mr. Dashi.

  Jake went.

  * * *

  After Jake left, Mr. Dashi jumped up from his desk and began to pace. He stopped and looked at the three people still in his office. For once, he wasn’t smiling. “Danny, you’ll give me a report on the losses?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “That’s your top priority right now. I want it available by the beginning of first shift tomorrow.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “That will be all. I need to talk to these ladies.”

  Danny nodded and left without speaking.

  Mr. Dashi waited until he had stepped out and closed the door, and then turned to the auditors.

  “Where do we stand?” Mr. Dashi Asked.

  Cravat tapped her screen with her fingers. “We won’t get militia charges. He’s a free trader, not a corporate employee. We can ban him from our stations and our business, but they won’t chase him for anything this small. And because he wasn’t working with another corp, they won’t even need to adjudicate an intercorp dispute. Once he leaves the station, he’s free and clear.”

  “Good. I don’t want the militia messing in our business.” Mr. Dashi resumed his pacing. “How much money are we talking about?”

  “Not much. It’s so small that we don’t even have to put it on our report.”

  “We’ll just write it off. But it bothers me. He’s the last one I thought would do something like this, and I’ve seen some scams over the years.”

  “Well, we’re pretty lucky he deleted those e-mails,” said Cravat.

  Mr. Dashi stopped pacing. “Why?” he asked.

  “It was pretty subtle theft, and pretty small. Very sophisticated, really. But the deleted e-mails served as a pointer to the other items. Without them, we would have had to sift through months of data, and it wouldn’t have been worth it.”

  Head scarf cleared her throat.

  Mr. Dashi looked at her. “Yes?”

  “Something you said earlier. Why didn’t he hide his tracks better?”

  “I’ve been doing this a long time. We wouldn’t have been able to prove much without those deleted e-mails. So…”

  “Yes?” Mr. Dashi asked.

  “So why did he delete them? Why not just wait us out? It smells odd. And I have a question for you.”

  “Yes?”

  “How long has he been at school here?” Head scarf asked.

  “I’d have to check exactly. Almost a year?” Mr. Dashi looked up in thought. “No more than a year.”

  “Some of the deleted e-mails go back almost two years.” Head scarf said.

  “Whose e-mails was he deleting?” Mr. Dashi asked.

  “It’s a generic account; all the auditors use it. That way everybody can share info.”

  “This has been going on for two years?”

  “At least. Parts of it have. But it was set up before he got here, so he had some sort of help.”

  Mr. Dashi leaned back and ran his hand through his hair. “He had to have had an accomplice?”

  “Maybe. Or was he the accomplice? It doesn’t quite smell right. I mean, if he were somehow involved with stealing the money remotely, why come to school and risk exposure?”

  Mr. Dashi looked hopeful. “Perhaps he’s not guilty?”

  “No, he is. Of something. Maybe of just being stupid and trusting, but that’s still a crime here.”

  “Yes, yes, it is. Do you think there is more here?”

  “Oh, for sure. But it’s not worth pursuing right now. This is not a priority,” said Head scarf.

  “What would it take to make it a priority?” Mr. Dashi asked.

  Head scarf and Cravat looked at each other. Head scarf tilted her head from side to side. Cravat nodded and spoke.

  “We would need more resources. More budget.”

  Mr. Dashi nodded. He knew how this game was played. “Of course. If you look into this, I’ll be happy to second your request for extra staff.”

  “Second a request to your bosses?”

  “Let me see the report. If you find something, I’ll give you something.”

  “Fair enough. We’ll start now.”

  “Keep me informed.”

  CHAPTER 6

  Bart walked into the bar. This was the seventeenth drinking establishment he’d been to while looking for Jake. He hadn’t realized there were that many drinking places on the station.

  The room was dark and had no chairs. There was a full bar at the far end of the compartment, and a variety of stand-up tables and wall ledges around the room’s perimeter. The place was less than a quarter full—mostly groups of two or three men or women with badly scratched plastic glasses in front of them.

  Jake was leaning up against a table near the bar, right next to the view screen. Bart walked up to him.

  “Found you,” Bart said.

  “Yes.”

  “You, sir, are an idiot.”

  “Ijit. Say ijit here.”

  “Why?”

  “Belter bar. I can talk normally here.”

  “I see.”

  A waitress came over, spoke to Jake, and took his glass. Her accent was so thick that Bart had no idea what she had said. Jake’s accent was back, and he was slurring his words, so Bart couldn’t understand him too well either.

  “You can barely stand,” said Bart.

  “Yes. That’s how things work here. They keep serving you as long as you can stand upright or hang onto the bar. Once you fall down, you’re cut off. Simple system.”

  “How many have you had?”

  “Me? Four.”

  “Four? Lightweight. You are already slurring.”

  “Check out the size of the glasses.”

  The waitress came back with two one-liter cups, both worn and scratched. She turned to Bart.

  “Ten credits.” When she spoke directly to him, her accent was strong but understandable. Bart reached into his pocket.

  Jake grabbed Bart’s hand and said something to the waitress. Bart couldn’t understand either of them as Jake and the waitress argued for a moment.

  She turned back to Bart, losing the accent. “Fine. One credit each for the beer. One-credit deposit for the glass. Three credits.”

  Bart paid, and she left.

  “Trying to rip off the rich corporate kid?” Bart asked.

  “Yes.”

  “How come just a credit for a deposit?”

  “I brought my own glass. No need for a deposit. That’s how it’s done.”

  “That’s unsanitary! And disgusting.”

  “If you think that’s disgusting, wait till you taste the beer.”

  Bart did. He gagged and spat it back into the glass. “This tastes like shit. And what’s all this stuff floating in it? Did something die in it?”

  “It is shit. Yeast shit. Yeast eats sugar and shits out alcohol. And something did die in it; the stuff floating in it is dead yeast and the residue from brewing.”

  “How can you drink this crap?”

  “I’ve been drinking it since I was four. There’s five hundred calories a glass, just about. The brewer’s yeast has all sorts of vitamins and minerals. The alcohol sterilizes the water, so there’s no problem with bad water supplies. You can just about live on it. One time Mom, my sister, and I went a week with nothing but beer to eat. Dad was late coming back from a salvage, and we were out of money. The beer kept us fed.”

  Bart cursed. “The emperor’s scrotum!” He took a big swig, gagging, but forced it down. “If you can drink it, I can. Did you do it?” he asked.

  “Do what?”

  “Steal that money?”

  “No. Do you believe me?”

  “Yes. I don’t see a reason for you to lie to me. Plus, you are not stupid enough to get caught that way. What’s going on?”

  “No idea. I don’t understand.”

  “Danny set you up,” Bart said.

  “Why would somebody set me up? I’m nobody.”

  “Exactly. If it had been me, I’d assume blackmail. But what can they blackmail you out of?”

  “Nothing. José walked me out of the school and watched me clean out my locker. I have one semihard suit, an actual hard suit, three liners, a bunch of book keys from the library, a complete set of cutlery, basic electrical and mechanical hand tools, and a plastic glass. Oh, and…” Jake reached into his pocket and felt around. “Seventy-three credits cash. They have frozen my bank account, pending the investigation.”

  Bart grunted. He fished around in his pockets and pulled out some credit chips. “Here, take these. You can pay me back when they unfreeze your account.”

  “They’ll never unfreeze my account. I’ll never get the money back. I’m going to militia adjudication. They’ll send me to the penal colony on South Continent.”

  Bart began to reason with Jake. It wasn’t a militia matter, it was corporate, and corporate courts couldn’t send you to South Continent. Plus, he had contacted his dad. Bart’s dad had hired a lawyer. The lawyer was confident it could all be cleared up and Jake would be re-admitted and get his money back.

  “You hired a lawyer? I can’t afford a lawyer,” Jake said.

  “Right, you can’t. But I can. I called my dad and told him I needed you in class to graduate—that you were tutoring me and responsible for my good marks.”

  “Your marks aren’t that good.”

  “For my family they are. They’re great. I’m shaping up to be the most educated Sanchez in three generations, mostly because of you. My dad won’t give me any money for booze, but he thinks a lawsuit is an excellent part of my education. He’s already assigned a family attorney to your case. I sent you some docs in your e-mail. You just have to authorize them.”

  “Fine, I’ll do that. Drink up; another round.” Jake signaled the waitress.

  “Another round? What for? I think you’ve had enough.”

  “Old Belter rule. When somebody else is paying, drink up. You’re paying. I’m drinking.”

  * * *

  Jake felt himself being dropped; he woke up with a start. Where was he? On a bed. It was his bed.

  “Sorry, buddy. I’ll rescue you from devious corporate shenanigans, but my help doesn’t extend to undressing you,” Bart said as he closed the door. “Sleep tight.”

  Jake lay back and let the sleep take him.

  * * *

  Something was beeping. Jake sat up and looked around. His comm screen was flashing. “Lease terminated. Account closed. Vacate cube by twenty-four-hundred hours tomorrow. Confirm.”

  Great. Now he had no place to stay. He sat up and looked into his closet. He had packed his hard suit into its case when he cleaned out his school locker. His toolbox was next to it. All his other personal items like cutlery were stuffed into pockets and tool belts on his Belter suit. Jake had been embarrassed to wear his suit around the station, because he looked like a dork wearing it—but it did have pockets.

  He stumbled out into the hall and began the long journey to the fresher. After relieving himself, he dialed up a drink of water. The tap wouldn’t start when he put in his code. INVALID ACCOUNT flashed over the water fountain. No water for him.

  He returned to his cube and sat on his bed. His comm unit beeped again, and he looked at it. It was a formal notification he’d been fired from his job. It was just a standard form letter, but it had Danny’s name on the bottom.

  “Danny’s fault,” he said. He was a little drunk, thirsty, soon to be homeless, and nearly broke. None of this was his fault. He hadn’t done any of this; Danny had. He deserved an explanation. He wanted answers. Danny would have them. Let’s go see Danny.

  Jake stumbled as he went out the door. Have to correct that. He climbed down several levels on the stairs, until he arrived in one of the lower habitation levels. He hadn’t been to this section before, and was surprised at how bad a shape it was in. Some of the lights were broken, and there was graffiti on one of the walls. He stepped off the stairs and turned to the airlock door that let him into the habitation corridors.

  Thunk. He tripped on the last step and fell backward with a bang. Pain shot through his head. He hauled himself upright and just sat for a minute. That had hurt. Jake reached back behind his head with his hand and felt a warm wetness. He brought his hand in front, where he could see it. Blood. “Perfect,” he said. “Perfect.”

  * * *

  Jake got a bit lost going down the corridor to Danny’s cube. He walked past it twice before he figured out the numbering system. There was nobody around at this hour; it was the middle of third shift. He thought he saw somebody disappearing around a corner ahead of him but didn’t get close enough to see who it was. After he got himself turned the right way, he headed back toward Danny’s cube. He came in front of it, and finally managed to connect the number in his addled vision to the one he had looked up on a public comm.

  He leaned forward and pressed his palm against the door panel. Rather than buzzing, the door ground open. That was odd. It should have beeped so the occupant could unlock it. The fact that the door had opened meant it was already unlocked from inside.

  He stepped forward into a cube that was only a little larger than his. Danny was propped on his side on his bed, facing the door.

  “Dannny!” Jake stuttered. He caught himself and corrected his voice. “Danny. You and me have something to talk about. I know that you deleted those files. I know that you did something. But why me? What did I ever do to you?”

  Danny didn’t say anything, just kept looking at Jake.

  “That was a shitty thing to do, Danny. I’ve never stolen anything. They kicked me out of school, man. I’ve lost my scholarship. I needed that scholarship. Why?”

  Danny didn’t say anything, just kept looking at Jake.

  “Why Danny? Why? What did—Oh.”

  Danny hadn’t moved. He was just lying there. And he hadn’t blinked, either.

  “Danny—are you OK? What’s wrong?” Jake leaned forward and prodded Danny’s arm. Danny’s elbow collapsed under him, and he began a slow roll onto his face and off the bed. He thudded onto the floor face first, and Jake got a clear view of his back—the big pool of blood soaking the back of his shirt, and the big knife stuck right in the middle of it.

  CHAPTER 7

  Jake stared at Danny’s corpse. The knife stuck out of the middle of Danny’s back, blood pooling around it. Jake started to back away, grabbing the door frame for support. He stepped back into the hall, leaned against the wall, and stared at the body in front of him.

  “Jake?” asked a voice behind him. He turned around. It was Nadine.

  “Jake, what are you doing here?” she asked.

  He looked around him.

  “Danny? Danny!” Nadine said. She covered her mouth with both hands. “What did you do? What happened?”

  “He’s…he’s dead. He was dead when I got here.”

  “Move.” Nadine shoved Jake aside, and dropped to her hands and knees and very competently checked Danny’s body for a pulse. She tried twice, once at his neck and again at his temple.

  “I just poked him,” said Jake. “He was lying on the bed when I got here. The door was open. I talked to him, but he didn’t answer. So I just—pushed him, and he rolled over.”