“You don’t have to go through with this, love. Everything we have is circumstantial. It’s not enough to make a case.”

  “Yet. I’m not an idiot. We may be looking at espionage, treason, or murder. Or a combination. I’m not off-base, and you damned well know it. I felt the change from that first hug.”

  The data hovered above his desk on multiple holos. The latest reports, each more dire. Discoveries made inside Thomas’s personal Partition. The man’s continued, inexplicable disappearance. The secure cam vids. More witnesses.

  “Yes,” Shireena said before clearing her throat. “Altogether, it’s not good. But I need you to consider something, Trev: If he has credible alibis, and it’s all a huge misunderstanding, you might destroy a lifelong bond. How would he feel knowing you turned on him so quickly?”

  Trevor thought of little else.

  “Connor has been the one constant in my life. I always looked after him, even at his worst.”

  “Did he ever give you reason to believe he was anything other than a good man at heart?”

  “No. But he’s not the man who left Amity ten months ago. I was so proud of him. He was strong and confident. I finally let him go.”

  Shireena convinced him to join her on the couch.

  “Don’t you dare try to blame yourself.” Trevor started to object, but Shireena caught him short. “It’s how you operate, Trev. When you can’t fix a person you love, you flip the blame. Ana Marie’s condition. Effie turning to Reginald. Things you’ve told me about your mother and father. And Grandfather Max? Do not get me started.”

  Great. A therapy session.

  At least Shireena wouldn’t patronize him like Su Yi, the psychiatrist who counseled many months ago.

  “Point taken, hun. I get it. If Connor’s involved in any of this shit, he’ll have to assume responsibility. I know the risk of what happens if I’m wrong. I’ll have to repair the damage. Either way, I need to hear it straight from him. My instinct and the Enzathi aren’t enough.”

  As the circumstantial evidence mounted, Trevor confessed to his dialogue with Mau’s avatar. He apologized for keeping the secret.

  “It anyone learns how far things have gone, hun, I’ll be shown directly to the spaceport. I wouldn’t be surprised if SI deems me worthy of the dark room.”

  Shireena said she was shocked but not surprised. Only a few dozen people knew about Trevor and the support group. They were told a partial truth: The Void energy faded and appeared passive. It vanished from most members.

  A harmless entity which posed no threat.

  “If you’re sure about this, love, I’ll stand with you.”

  “I know you will. Thing is, I have to do this alone. He’s not happy I found someone else.”

  “Then I’ll wait outside.”

  A moment later, Andreas opened the door.

  “Your brother, sir. He’s here.”

  Trevor kissed Shireena and sent her on. She passed Connor, who greeted her with warmth.

  “Hey, sorry about yesterday. I spoke out of turn. Forgive me?”

  “No worries. Sometimes, our mouths get ahead of our brains.”

  Shireena hugged him and moved on.

  Trevor downsized the incriminating holos.

  “Surprised to see you back in uniform, C. Aren’t you on leave?”

  “I am, bruv. The blue and gray is an eyecatcher, and I’m proud to wear it. Impresses the hell out of my old mates. I was hanging around with one when you called. What’s so urgent?”

  Trevor pointed to the couch.

  “Have a seat. We need to talk.”

  Connor pointed to Trevor’s glass.

  “Oh, good. We’re drinking?”

  Shit.

  Trevor set the glass on his desk.

  “No. We’re not smoking either. Just talk, C. Can you do that?”

  Connor shrugged.

  “You’re the Governor!”

  While Connor made himself comfortable, Trevor transferred the holos to his pom and flipped it shut. He sat across from his brother and vowed not to lose his cool.

  Watch, he told the Enzathi. Don’t speak unless I ask you a question. Understood?

  Mau nodded.

  “So,” Trevor began. “You’ve been catching up with old mates.”

  “Yeah, bruv. It’s been fun. The guys on EngSec9 were good to me. Half the team rotated out since I was here.”

  “Sharing tales about your adventures?”

  Connor wriggled his hands.

  “What I could. After Basic, most of what I did is classified. That’s why I cut you short last night. There’s so much I want you to know, but it’s out of my hands. For now, anyway.”

  “For now? What do you mean?”

  “Circumstances change. All I can say. Speaking of circumstances, you wanna tell me what this confab’s about?”

  Connor leaned forward, hands in his lap. Eyes bright and eager, big smile. As if he already knew.

  “I wanted to have a word about Thomas.”

  “Quinlan? That guy? Why?”

  “He works in Shireena’s department next door. There’s a decent chance you’ll run into him while you’re here. And frankly, we steered clear of the subject for a long time.”

  Connor scoffed.

  “Good reason, don’t you reckon?”

  “Look, it’d be easy to regret my decision, but his parents were good to us. It felt like paying down a debt.”

  Connor leaned back and crossed his arms.

  “To you. Not me. He’s garbage. Always was.”

  “And you steered clear when both of you worked in Episteme.”

  “Because I couldn’t trust myself.”

  “Why?”

  “Probably best if you let that one go, bruv.”

  Connor’s tone hardened, which made Trevor’s next line of questions more difficult.

  “Fine. I’m curious. What would happen if you saw him now?”

  “I’d walk the other way. I won’t dishonor the uniform.”

  “Good. Were you wearing the uniform last night when you visited the Alhambra bloc?”

  Connor’s somber expression did not budge. Why not even the slightest tinge of surprise? Did he anticipate the question?

  “What’s this, bruv? You’re keeping tabs on me?”

  “You went to Alhambra. Yes?”

  “I visited a mate.”

  “Strange word choice since we’re talking about Thomas Quinlan.”

  “Never saw that bastard. He lives in Alhambra?”

  “Flat 1538. But you’d know that. You were seen on his floor approaching his flat. Why meet with Thomas?”

  Connor contorted his features as if he’d been hit upside the head.

  “Bruv. Are you serious right now? I never met with Quinlan. I wasn’t on his floor.”

  Trevor wanted to believe.

  “Visiting someone else, were you?”

  “Not me.” Connor winked. “Somebody’s got you bamboozled. Quinlan accuse me of something?”

  “No. Thomas has been missing for hours. He’s gone dark. LinkPass says he never left, yet he did. Strange thing. It also shows you never hit any access points inside Alhambra. But the secure cams show you entering the lobby and leaving an hour later. Anything you’d like to share?”

  Connor shifted his body into full denial mode, right down to the flailed arms which protested his innocence.

  “I dunno what in ten hells you’re up to, but something’s not screwed on right. It’s the job. Being Governor’s gone to your head.”

  Predictable deflection.

  “Wish I could blame the job. I’m just trying to understand, C. Thomas’s disappearance makes as much sense as your denial of meeting him. If it were this alone, I’d have waited to say something. But it’s not, by a long shot.”

  “Oh, yeah? What else you got, bruv?”

  That sounded like a challenge. Trevor pushed onward.

  “There are huge gaps in your LinkPass history. I see everything in public locales, right down to the store where you bought your beige ensemble. But as soon you enter residential areas, you vanish. Can you explain?”

  “Technology’s great until it’s not?” Connor chuckled. “Right now, Trevor, I want to knock the shit out of you. Tracking my movements? The hell are you thinking?”

  Connor played it by the book, much like he learned ages ago when Trevor called him ‘the brat.’ The boy became well practiced at wearing down his older brother with denials and recriminations. Some things never changed.

  OK. Here we go.

  “In the last four hours, five people on this station have been reported missing or found dead. Thomas did not report to work. He has no history since last night. Shireena researched his private data spool. He was profiling a man named Niles Acasta, who has direct links to Black Star. Mr. Acasta is also missing. We have evidence he and Thomas met yesterday while Acasta cleaned the ARS in Haven.

  “Neither left the station. Two women living in Episteme were reported late to work. Deputies found them dead in their flats. Lifetechs haven’t reported the cause. The fifth person lives in Harmony. Nowhere to be found. No history since last night.”

  Connor whistled.

  “Damn, bruv. That’s brutal. There hasn’t been a day like this since Hoshi Oda made those three students kill themselves.”

  “How would you know, C? You’ve been away for ten months.”

  “C’mon, Trevor. I assumed. After you cracked down with Shadow Gambit ... look, maybe these five slipped through the cracks. Another Black Star cell? I recall what you said before I left: There’d be more. Just a matter of whether you’d suss them out in time.”

  Trevor still wanted to believe, but logic stared him in the face.

  “The last three I mentioned haven’t been vetted. If they’re part of a cell, we’ll find out. Here’s the headline, C. You spent a couple of hours in Episteme. Your public access points take you near the bloc where those women were killed.”

  “Near? Are you serious right now?”

  “Very. So I’m going to ask straight up, because I want to give you a chance. I want to believe you were not involved.”

  Connor shook his head and groaned.

  “You sure I can’t have a drink?”

  “Tell me the truth, Connor. Where is Thomas Quinlan?”

  Connor slapped his hands on his thighs and stood.

  “That wasn’t a no. I’m going to pour a whiskey, and you ain’t gonna stop me.”

  Trevor didn’t budge.

  “Fine. Pour it. Answer the question. Where’s Thomas?”

  Connor added two cubes of ice and stirred. He finished the drink in one long gulp, cleared his nostrils, and poured another.

  “You made a lot of mistakes, Trev. You looked down on people above you. Couldn’t keep your temper in check. Lost the love of your life. Treated me like I was incapable of making it on my own.”

  Another skill Connor mastered long ago: Flip the script. Make Trevor the villain.

  "This game won’t work, C. Please, sit down.”

  Connor did not comply. He ventured to Trevor’s desk and took a gander at the data flicks of Ana. They formed a large collection with family images going back to the brothers posing on their first day aboard Amity.

  “I like this one,” Connor said. “Our first trip off world. They were still welding this place together.”

  “Please. Sit.”

  Connor sipped his whiskey as he fiddled with the data flicks.

  “Those mistakes don’t amount to shit. You made it to the top of the pyramid anyway, bruv. No, your biggest fuckup was Thomas Quinlan. You brought that filth back into our lives. Everything he did is on you.”

  “Blaming me won’t help ...”

  “Shut the fuck up, Trevor. I love you to death, but Thomas was right. You are a smug sonofabitch.”

  Trevor’s heart sank.

  “You admit it. You spoke to him.”

  Connor moved the dataflicks back into position and navigated around the desk. He reached into a side pocket.

  “Catch.”

  He tossed a pom at Trevor, who snagged it.

  “What is ...?”

  “Check the owner stamp.”

  Trevor flipped over the pom and read the tiny engraving along the bottom which listed a name and gene stamp code.

  “Thomas Quinlan. How did you get this?”

  Connor smirked.

  “See, you thought if Thomas was nearby, he couldn’t get away with anything nefarious. You believe in that whole ‘keep your enemies closer’ nonsense. That filth played you from the first day to the last.”

  Trevor heard it in his voice. Connor sounded like a champion boasting of his victory.

  “What did you do?”

  Connor slipped onto the couch and crossed his legs.

  “I killed him. You’ll never find the body. Not even a gene stamp.”

  Trevor might as well have been run over by a Crossway train. The truth hurt less than the way it fell off his brother’s tongue: With calm, cool satisfaction.

  “Connor ... I ... why?”

  He pointed to Thomas’s pom.

  “To save your life, bruv. Thomas had a phantom drill in there. He accessed the entire station. He met with Acasta to sell the secrets. He created off-book cubes to stash the money. But here’s the clincher: Those cubes were mirrored to your financials. That filth was setting you up, and it would’ve worked. A week from now, you’d be fucked with no way out. And it’s all down to you, Trev.”

  Trevor believed every word. Wasn’t difficult. He came to this office as a pawn in a bigger game, so why not this? Too blind to see what the sociopath in his midst was planning all along.

  Is it all true? He asked the Enzathi.

  “The bag is not deceiving you,” Mau replied. “And yet, he is.”

  How can both be true?

  “The Enzathi believes the bag hides betrayal behind truth. He is one of many.”

  Did he kill the others?

  “The bag has killed many of his kind.”

  Trevor surrendered.

  He grabbed the drink set down earlier and tossed it back.

  “How did you know what he was planning?”

  Connor groaned.

  “Aren’t you going to thank me?”

  “You murdered a man on my station. He could’ve been arrested and charged.”

  “It’s better this way. It’s quiet. For the record, others dealt with Acasta and the Black Star agent in Harmony. I didn’t have enough CNZ-4 for all five, and the cleanup would’ve taken too long.”

  Before Trevor could ask what in hell CNZ-4 was, Connor reached into a pocket and retrieved a node the size of a belly button. He held it up then pressed the bottom. A needle shot forward.

  “The poison acts fast. Twenty seconds, give or take. Needle retracts clean. Hard to find the puncture wound.”

  So clinical. He sounds like a professional. This is not my brother.

  “Connor, I don’t ... what in ten hells have you done?”

  “My job.”

  “Your job?”

  Connor tapped the bar on his chest.

  “My superiors trusted me to get it done. I coordinated with allies already here, and we cleaned up the problem.”

  “I don’t believe it. The UNF sent you here as an assassin?”

  Connor waved off the notion.

  “No. My unit cleaned up a mess before it got out of hand. Four of the five filth we killed are enemies. A Black Star cell. It’s not like the one Hoshi oversaw. These people were actively planning an attack from within. They were weeks away at most. As for Thomas? He was hell-bent on bringing you down, and I couldn’t let that happen. Not me, not my commanding officer, and not ...”

  Connor chuckled after cutting himself off.

  “Yeah,” he continued. “You and I stand on the front row to history, bruv. It’s all in place. We’re exactly where we were meant to be. Stallion brothers riding high.”

  Connor leaped from the couch, rubbing hands together as if trying to contain his excitement.

  “You got no idea how many people sacrificed for this day. The last move had to be polished off here. Now you can run Amity without fear. We made sure of it. We need you in this office.”

  Trevor cut through shock and asked the most pressing question.

  “We who?”

  Connor patted his brother on the shoulder.

  “You already know.”

  “Say it.”

  Connor answered with a finger wag and a pivot toward the humidor.

  “First thing you’ll need to do is stop the investigations. I’ll be every Sec Admin’s prime suspect in a few hours. It’s an easy coverup. You’ll blame Black Star. Plus, nobody will give a shit. Bigger issues at hand.”

  The Lieutenant opened the humidor and selected a long, fat cigar.

  “What issues, Connor? Who do you work for? Talk to me.”

  Connor grabbed a fire flick and poised it against the cigar’s end.

  “It should be done by now. No going back. This is the proudest day of my life.”

  “What’s done?”

  Connor ignited the cigar and gave it a few healthy puffs. He blew on the end.

  “We call it Code Exodus. History, bruv.”

  It happened in a flash, like so many of Trevor’s revelations born out of paranoia. The puzzle pieces which had dangled around him coalesced much like the floaters at the center of his vision.

  Devonshire. Requiem. Nexus. Nagano. Haas. The vacated leases. The port bookings. The Guardian fleet. The defense web. Lt. Stallion.

  He saw how it all connected. Equal parts brilliant and terrifying.

  So he wasn’t surprised when the office door burst open.

  Andreas and Shireena raced in.

  “Turn on the stream, sir,” Andreas said. “You will not believe what’s happening out there.”

  Trevor glanced at Connor, who smoked with a smile.

  “At this point, Andreas, nothing will surprise me.”

  22

  TREVOR, SHIREENA, AND ANDREAS watched eight holos hovering above the Governor’s desk. Andreas knew how to adjust a single plate to display multiple live broadcasts from member worlds. He learned the trick as an IC clerk, where reps were eager to see several global news streams at once.

  Trevor met eyes with his brother, who sat on the couch beneath a smoke cloud and appeared disinterested.