I didn’t even get a chance to finish my coffee before Chief Thumbold called me into his office. Even though his summons left me annoyed, I forced my face to stay neutral as I entered the Chief’s office. I took a seat on one side of the low couch that faced the Chief’s desk. Ned was already leaning against the filing cabinet like he was expecting a casual chat. I made eye contact and he smiled at me.

“Yo, Flo... Flo yo, Flo yo...” Ned’s words trailed off as I gave him my best unimpressed stare—the kind I saved for my boys when they misbehaved, so I was well practiced.

“Oh, come on Ned, you have to be sick of that by now.” I used a flat tone.

Ned grinned—a mischievous expression. Tormenting me would remain high on his agenda. “Never.”

“Detective Diamond, sit down and shut up.” Chief Thumbold scowled. He was just as sick of Ned’s silliness as I was. But I didn’t harbour any sympathy for him—he’d saddled me with Ned as a partner and kept me from finishing my morning coffee.

“Sure thing, Chief... I’ll take this seat here right beside Flo-yo.” Ned flopped down beside me, his weight nearly launching me off the couch. He looked at me and grinned.

I sighed. “Ned. Enough.”

“Alright, you two, we need to focus on the case at hand. Susan, bring up the feed.” Chief Thumbold drew our attention to him.

In the air above his desk, a holographic image formed of the inside of one of Indigo Station’s emergency airlocks—the kind that were kept locked by the station AIs unless there was some sort of issue.

A little boy with a mop of dark hair stood in the airlock gazing out the door to space. Beside him, the light at the door flashed red indicating an active override. That door was about to slide open, blowing everything inside into the void.

My throat tightened. “Oh shit, is that a child in the airlock? Wait, it’s about to vent. Susan, send an emergency override—”

Chief Thumbold raised his hand and cut me off. “It’s not live, Detective Rubin.”

The boy turned towards the camera and grinned—the same grin my boys used to give me when they were knowingly about to do something bad.

I frowned and crossed my arms over my chest, reminding myself that whatever had happened in that airlock was already done.

“Did the boy get sucked out into space?” I asked.

Chief Thumbold rested his forearms on his desk. “That’s what I brought you in for—”

This time, I cut him off. “Susan, run facial recognition on that child.”

From the speaker in the wall, Susan said, “This child’s facial features do not match anyone on this station.”

I frowned. That child needed to be identified. “I’ll manually check, bring up the missing children reports. Let’s start with boys between 7 and 9.”

“I cannot comply. All male children between 7 and 9 are accounted for,” Susan’s generated voice remained as emotionless as ever. She was one of the more boring AIs that I’ve ever encountered—but then she was selected by a bureaucratic committee looking for efficiency over personality.

Chief Thumbold pursed his lips. “Stop before you go to far down that gravity well. As much as I appreciate your enthusiasm, Detective Rubin, you need to give me a chance to brief you on the facts. This isn’t a case of a missing child. Susan, zoom in on the child’s face.”

Ned stood up to get a closer view. “Huh, that kid looks familiar.”

“That’s because he’s been appearing in station video feeds and even personal photos for the last six months. Susan, bring up the station schematic and overlay the locations where the boy has appeared,” Chief Thumbold said.

A map of the station replaced the video feed.

This time, I stood to get a better view. The cluster of red dots formed a distinct pattern. “He keeps appearing around Docking Bay 11, maybe he lives nearby?”

“After the footage of the airlock, I sent out a patrol to go door to door. Rest assured, no child is missing.” Chief Thumbold leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Of course, no child is missing. As I already said, they are all accounted for.” Susan actually sounded annoyed—maybe there was hope for her code yet.

Ned flopped back onto the sofa and started scrolling through something on his datapad.

“Dirty circuits! Check this out. The kid photo bombed my husband and I at the circus in Docking Bay 11.” Ned held up his datapad so we could all see the photo.

Ned and his husband both held huge pink fluff balls of cotton candy in front of themselves, hiding the lower halves of their faces. In the space between their heads was another head in the background.

I pointed at the third head. “Can you zoom in on that?”

Ned swiped his datapad, and the image appeared in the air over the chief’s desk. “Is that better?”

“Susan, is that the same boy?” I asked.

“My algorithms have determined that the boy in the airlock and the boy in the background match to 97.36% certainty.”

“Great. Cross-correlate the time stamp on Detective Diamond’s photo with station security footage,” I said.

Chief Thumbold leaned forward. “Hold on, Detective Rubin, I’m not finished briefing you on the case. We’ve already determined the boy isn’t real. He’s an artifact in the network around Docking Bay 11 and his first appearance coincided with the circus being set up.”

“So, the kid’s a wacky photo bombing program? Sounds fun,” Ned said with a grin.

I frowned. “It sounds like this case should be assigned to IT.”

“I need the two of you to investigate the origins of this boy. IT hasn’t been able to isolate the code. There may be a rogue hacker at work here, and you need to find them before they move on to more than just photo bombing Ned’s pictures.”

Twenty minutes later, Ned and I stood just inside the main doors to Docking Bay 11. Somehow, on the walk over here, Ned had once again acquired a spicy cricket taco. I shuddered at the scent—even a whiff was too spicy for me.

Ahead, the big top tent reached up almost to the ceiling, changing the space from something industrial to something way more fun. A group of children raced by us, laughing as they went.

“We had a good time,” Ned said between bites.

“Who did?” I looked around, trying to pinpoint all the security cameras in the space.

“My husband and I, when we came last week.” He started walking forward, wiping spicy-cricket-taco residue off his hands and onto his pants as he moved. “The animatronic camels were the best.”

Not for the first time, I cursed having him as my partner under my breath. Then I strode out to catch up with him. “We gotta stay focused.”

“Yo, Flo, I know.” He burst into giggles. “I didn’t even mean that rhyme.”

I sighed. “Where were you when you got photo bombed?”

“In the back, just next to the food stands.” He headed straight into the tent and turned right.

The crowd inside was nuts. That amount of people in such a small place made my skin crawl—it was worse than the trams during rush hour. People were going all different directions, creating the kind of chaos that haunted my dreams.

Ned didn’t seem bothered as he moved straight through the crowd—the crowd parted for him—must be the spicy cricket smell to his breath. I followed in his wake.

Past a series of carnival games, he exited the tent into an open area ringed by food stands. Everything from pretzels to doughnuts to funnel cakes were on display—sugary treats guaranteed to spike one’s insulin. It was a wonder the station’s medical arm hadn’t shut the place down.

Ned stopped next to an oversized cotton candy machine. “We took the picture exactly here.” He gestured as though taking a selfie.

“Right.” I looked around. The wall to the docking bay rose up directly behind the food stands. It didn’t take long for me to spot the safety projector halfway up.

The projector was supposed to project a hologram to direct people out of the docking bay in the event of an emergency. It was also supposed to be turned off and only activated by the station AIs if needed—just like the airlock in the video the Chief had showed us.

“Yo Flo, I’ve got a plan,” Ned said.

Just as I turned to glare at him, he snapped a picture of the two of us.

“What the...” My words trailed off as I realized what he was doing. “Is he there?” I leaned in to see the photo.

Sure enough, the boy was—sticking his tongue out at us.

“The kid’s got a sense of humour,” Ned said.

“I guess we can confirm someone has hacked into the station’s emergency system.” I eyed the safety projector. “Let’s head down to Station Control. I want Susan to examine their error logs.”

“Sure thing, Flo yo.”

“Again, enough of that.” I headed off into the crowd, back the way we’d come.

to be continued…

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“Galen, you there?” Juniper raced along the hall, not sure she was going in the right direction.

“Of course, I’m always here.”

“Any idea where Prior is?”

“Yes, he’s out front trying to get into the sand skimmer.”

She exhaled in relief — the balcony overlooking the entrance was just ahead. “Trying?” she asked as she slammed into the door. This one gave way.

“There’s an argument,” he responded as she reached the railing. “Between Prior and Vera Jakes.”

Looking down, it was clear Vera had won. Thaddeus Prior lay flattened on the ground, his jumpsuit coated in dust and the taqlib flung out of reach. Meanwhile, Vera sat in the pilot’s seat, the artefact in the seat beside her. And the skimmer was lifting off.

Juniper considered the stairs for a second, but there was no way she’d get down in time. The craft rose higher, and she judged the distance. With barely a thought, she scrambled over the railing. The drop seemed further from this side.

“What are you doing, Juniper Keys?” she muttered to herself. The craft jerked forward then stopped then lurched again. She inhaled then jumped before Vera could pull away.

She hit the back of the skimmer hard, her injured head spinning.

Vera glanced at her, causing the skimmer to rock. Juniper scrambled to keep hold when the vehicle fishtailed left and right as it shot forward.

Juniper got an arm hooked into the rack on the rear, her shoulder and elbow screaming. Her legs flung free as Vera zigzagged the craft back and forth before speeding ahead.

“Arg!” She powered her other arm over and grabbed the rack. With a groan, she hauled herself up, ignoring the burning in her shoulder … it felt as if fire worms had built a nest in it.

The skimmer veered left, and that’s when Juniper saw Vera only had one hand on the steering wheel. The other held a blaster, which she was trying to aim at Juniper. Luckily, she couldn’t drive at speed with only one hand.

Juniper considered jumping off — the cube wasn’t worth her life — but the skimmer was going too fast. She’d be as likely to hurt herself by diving off as by staying on.

She pulled herself toward the front, despite the momentum of the craft dragging her back. She didn’t want to rely on Vera’s bad driving to save her.

Vera changed tactics, and Juniper was flung forward when her ex-student slammed on the brakes.

She tumbled towards the front of the skimmer. But before she could grab the cube and flee, they were already moving again.

Juniper grabbed Vera around the neck with one hand while throwing the other over her eyes.

“Let go!” the student yelled.

In response, Juniper used her hold on Vera to haul herself closer, eliciting a grunt from the other woman. She reached her right hand towards the passenger seat, and the artefact. The vehicle swerved as Vera struggled to get free, throwing her sideways.

The craft veered back the other way, and Juniper’s fingers finally grasped the cube.

Except the skimmer kept spinning and then tumbled nose over tail as it hit a rock. Juniper was thrown out of the vehicle. She turned an awkward somersault in the air before landing hard on her back, her breath knocked out of her.

She coughed as she lifted her head. The world spun as she took stock. She was still alive. Nothing felt broken. And she held the cube.

A smile split her face, and she laughed. She rolled over and shoved herself to standing, the ground tilting as she did.

Then she heard the whine of a blaster charging behind her.

“Hands up.”

Juniper put her hands up.

“Turn around.”

She turned. Vera pointed her weapon at Juniper’s chest. Bloody abrasions marked her cheek and chin. She limped as she stepped closer, and her free hand clutched her side. Her fiery hair had escaped her braid. But her jaw was set.

“Put the cube down on that rock.” She waved the blaster to her right.

Juniper’s gaze slid sideways, noting the flat-topped rock, but didn’t move. “Why?” she asked instead.

“Because I’m the one with the gun.”

“I mean, why steal it?”

Vera snorted. “Because Thaddeus offered me an unreasonable amount of money for anything interesting from the dig.”

Juniper shook her head and continued. “You could have been part of one of the greatest discoveries in ages.” Maybe if she kept Vera talking, she’d have time to figure a way out of this.

Her student squinted and shook her head. “Give me that stupid artefact. Now.” Her arm tensed as she prepared to shoot. Juniper inhaled sharply, then a shot sounded, and she ducked.

Vera screamed, and the blaster went skittering across the ground, coming to rest at Juniper’s feet.

Juniper patted herself down with her free hand, but she hadn’t been shot. Her forehead furrowed as she tried to make sense of what had happened. Then Phil emerged out of the shimmering heat, a pulse rifle in her hand, followed by Fennick at the wheel of the other Cat.

Vera scrambled towards her blaster.

“Don’t.” Phil aimed her rifle again as Juniper put her foot down on the weapon.

The younger woman froze. Juniper saw the moment when Vera gave up, all the tension leaving her muscles.

“Nice shot.” Juniper eyed Phil as she picked up the blaster with her free hand.

“I missed. I was aiming for her head,” Phil said, but Juniper didn’t believe her. “You got it?” she continued.

“Yeah.” Juniper examined the cube as best she could one-handed. It appeared to be undamaged. And Fennick was right—it was almost like she could see a field of stars inside if only she squinted hard enough.

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Juniper stared up at the night sky, glaring at the rapidly retreating shuttle that carried the cube to the Imperial Destroyer Medea — one of the Emperor’s own — in orbit around Acheron. The Imperial Antiquities Authority, including Professor Selwyn, had wasted no time getting to Acheron and taking possession of the artefact while the Dominion police had taken custody of Vera.

But they hadn’t taken Juniper with them. Selwyn assured her she’d be credited with the find … as a junior archaeologist.

Juniper frowned. She expected she’d get no mention at all in the end, not even a footnote. “I should have gone to Telltasema. The finds they’re pulling out hit the Connect on a weekly basis.”

“Or Tem Cylla,” Phil said, from where she stood beside her, leaning against the Cat, arms crossed over her chest.

“Or Cinnebar,” Betty chirped from where she rested in mostly cube form.

“Thraxa.” Fennick offered. He’d been fidgety and grumpy after returning from Prior’s compound but otherwise fine. “Just last week they revealed a whole ancient city beneath the sands.”

There was a pause, and the only sound was a rock hopper rubbing its hind legs together. Above, the ship was gone, revealing the unnamed constellations of the Desolation and the pinpoints of light from the Wall that separated Dominion space from the unknown beyond.

“But we’re all here, in the Badlands on the edge of the Desolation, for a reason,” Phil said, breaking the silence.

Juniper turned to look at her, but Phil stared at the stars, an unexpected awe softening her expression.

After a few moments, Phil turned to Juniper, her eyes black in the night. “The same reason, I think.” She shifted off the Cat. “Which means we should get some rest so we can start back to work tomorrow.” She headed towards her pod.

Juniper stared after her for a few long seconds. It was true. That’s why she wasn’t angrier about Selwyn leaving her behind, she realized. And why she wasn’t higher in the Authority. Sure, the artefact was a career-making find, but instead of her career, her thoughts were on what else was out here in the Badlands. Or the Desolation beyond. And the cube had guaranteed her funding for the next season wherever she chose to dig. She followed Phil’s lead, heading towards her own pod.

“Wait, what reason?” Fennick said, his voice far behind.

She turned back to peer at him, his eyes shining in the dark.

“Aliens,” she said but didn’t wait for his reaction.

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“Fennick, darling.” A statuesque woman with smooth brown skin, sparkling black eyes and shiny hair in a wavy bob stepped out of the sleek Berenike. Ciena Erregina, Fennick had said. Juniper didn’t follow the noble Families but knew enough to recognize one of their number.

The woman leaned against the strut as she continued speaking to him while studying Juniper and Phil. “What are you doing back so soon? You look a little green.”

“I….”

Juniper stepped forward, hands on her hips until she realized that might appear threatening, though she didn’t she how this woman could be threatened by her. “He said you might help us.”

“Help you how?” The words flowed like molasses, slow and considered.

“Breaking into Thaddeus Prior’s compound,” Phil said from where she leaned on the Cat with Betty curled in the back in box form.

Ciena snorted. “And why would I do that?” She shook her head, her hair waving with the movement.

Juniper turned to Fennick, who had shifted from green to grey. “We only want one thing. Anything else you pick up you can keep.”

“What do you take me for, a thief?” Ciena’s hand came to her chest, and her jaw dropped in shock.

Juniper’s heart sank, realizing she wasn’t going to help.

Then the other woman tilted her head and brought her fingers to her lips. She continued, “I suppose I could be a thief if it means Prior realizing he’s not as wonderful as he thinks he is.”

“So you’ll help?” Hope fluttered in Juniper’s chest.

Ciena’s gaze shifted to look past her head. She stepped forward and threw an arm around Juniper’s shoulder. “Let me introduce you to Galen,” she said, her voice loud. In a lower tone, she added. “We should talk inside.”

She didn’t even have a chance to glance behind her before being ushered into the ship.

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Three ideas, two arguments, and one screed of colour commentary from the Berenike’s AI later, they neared the backside of Prior’s compound. They approached in a roundabout way that Galen, said AI, had suggested based on his scans after informing them how stupid their plan was.

Juniper slowed the Cat to a crawl, then stopped as she crested the ridge. The maze of ravines had kept them out of sun and sight, but they needed to go over the ridge to drop down behind the compound.

Glancing back, she checked they weren’t raising too many dust devils. She didn’t see any, but it was nearing midday, and the heat caused the land to shimmer in orange and brown stripes.

She grabbed the binoculars from a compartment by her knee and scanned the compound, counting turrets. Switching to infrared, she searched for people who might block their entrance.

According to Galen, events had gone to plan so far: he’d parked the Berenike out front, and Ciena was already inside the compound proposing her deal with Thaddeus Prior, Betty posing as her security. A flicker of worry rose in Juniper’s stomach: even though Galen swore he could rescue them if things went sideways, Juniper still worried about Betty.

Loose pebbles cascaded down the ridge, the sound like a jade beetle taking flight. She turned as the other Cat joined her, carrying Phil and Fennick, whose face was a shade of green-grey while his knuckles where white from clutching the holds on the side of the Cat.

“What now?” Phil asked, her eyes shaded by her hat.

Juniper’s gaze narrowed. “You don’t have to do this, you know.” She glanced at Fennick. “Neither of you. The dig is my responsibility.”

Fennick sighed, relief clear in his expression. “Okay.”

“Are you kidding?” Phil snorted. “I wouldn’t miss this even if my exes promised to pay back the money they stole.” She shifted in her seat. “And it’s safer for you to join us than stay here.”

Juniper tried to keep her smile to herself. She didn’t want to put them in danger, but selfishly she was glad she didn’t have to do this on her own.

She didn’t even have Betty, given that she was acting as Ciena’s “muscle”, which was ridiculous since the robot didn’t even kill sand spiders — she carefully extricated them and moved them safely outside the camp.

Hopefully, the robot was following the exhortation to be the strong and, more critically, silent type.

“She’s right.” Juniper returned her focus to the others. “Now we wait for the signal.”

They didn’t have to wait long. But it wasn’t the signal she’d expected. Instead of Juniper getting a message from Galen, Betty’s emergency siren sounded from below. Without hesitation, she started the Cat again and navigated down the slope towards the rear of the compound.

“What went wrong?” Phil’s voice came from her wrist patch, barely audible above the whir of the Cat.

She shook her head as she shouted her reply. “I don’t know, but it was a sketchy plan to start with.” She grabbed the steering wheel with both hands as the terrain became more jagged. The siren warbled as she got closer, and a pit yawned in her stomach. She geared up, going faster, until the Cat’s rear shimmied, forcing her to dial it back.

She forgot about the gun turrets until a slug hit the rock to her left, sending up a spray of shrapnel. Dodging right, she almost lost control, nearly hitting the other Cat.

“Jacks.” Her heart pounded in her chest, but she didn’t slow. Their arrival was no longer a surprise, so she could raise all the dust devils she wanted as she wove back and forth. In fact, the clouds of sand might throw off the turrets’ targeting.

More slugs hit the ground with heavy thuds. If one of those struck her, she was dead. Luckily, their aim was poor.

But soon she had another worry. The wall of the compound loomed ahead. If she slowed down, the guns would have a better chance of homing in on her; if she didn’t, she’d slam into the wall.

Fennick came to her rescue. “Veer left. I see the service door.” Even though his shout came through her wrist patch, it was still barely audible over the wind whipped up by the Cats.

She acted on faith and veered into the other Cat’s debris field. That was the door Betty was supposed to open — if she hadn’t, Juniper was still going too fast.

A few seconds later, she emerged from the dust cloud. As another shot hit the ground, she slammed on the brakes. The door was open, but the other Cat sat on the far side, blocked by a tank.

Juniper grimaced and gripped the steering wheel so tight her knuckles hurt. The Cat slowed, but not enough. Phil and Fennick dodged in opposite directions as she skidded the Cat sideways in an attempt not to hit the other vehicle. In the last moments, she scrunched her eyes closed and held her breath. A few seconds letter, something bumped her leg. She exhaled and opened her eyes.

“Get off that thing,” Phil hissed from the top of the tank, a blaster in one hand. “Since we’re not a surprise anymore, we need to hustle.”

Juniper slid off the Cat as fast as she could and joined Phil. She pulled out her own blaster.

With the Cats powered down, she realized it was quiet: Betty’s emergency siren had stopped. Her stomach clenched in fear.

Reaching the top of the tank, she followed Phil’s lead and flattened herself against it.

Thaddeus Prior himself stood in the courtyard.

“Bleeding Hades,” she muttered. She scrunched her face — his tight body suit made it clear he didn’t have the artefact on him.

“What’s wrong with that thing?” Prior’s voice shouted as Betty’s siren sounded again.

Juniper exhaled in relief until she asked herself the same question: what was wrong with Betty?

“She’s very protective.” Ciena’s voice cut through the sound.

Juniper inched forward until she saw the other woman. She inhaled sharply. Ciena was on her knees, arms bound behind her back and a bruise forming on her cheek.

Nonetheless, a smile lit up her face as she continued. “But her scream isn’t your biggest problem.”

“Really?” Prior sneered. “And what would that be?”

“It’s hard to choose between my AI or the pulse rifle pointed at your head.”

A whine sounded beside Juniper. She glanced at Phil, and she realized Ciena wasn’t making it up — Phil aimed her rifle at Prior. On Phil’s far side, Fennick’s eyes widened as he gaped at the gun. But they were both drawn back to the scene in front of them.

“Your AI?” Prior snorted. “I should fear that pretty ship out there?”

Just then the sky darkened as the Berenike came to hover over the space.

“You go. Find the artefact.” Phil jerked her chin to the left. “I’ll help Ciena.”

Juniper hesitated for only a second, then slid down the side of the tank.

Shots sounded behind Juniper. She paused but not to look back — she stopped because she didn’t know where to go. The cube could be anywhere in Prior’s compound. Or it might not be there at all.

“If I were a criminal overlord, where would I hide my stolen artefact?” she muttered. She inhaled. “I wouldn’t hide it. I’m too arrogant for that.”

She started moving again, heading towards Prior’s office. As she ran up the stairs, she recalled the objects strewn through the space from when she paid her protection money the previous season.

Skidding around the corner, she threw herself through the entryway — and slammed right into a door she didn’t remember being there.

“Ow.” She rubbed her shoulder then waved her hand at the panel. The door didn’t budge. She poked at the screen, only to have it beep angrily at her.

Her eyes narrowed. Without a better choice, she grabbed her blaster and shot the panel. It moaned sadly, but the door slid open halfway. Tucking her weapon away, she squeezed through the gap.

With the sun overhead, the office was cast in twilight.

“Lights,” she whispered, but the room didn’t respond. She took a few tentative steps into the space. It looked exactly as it had the last time she’d been inside. “If only I could douse everything in water.”

With no way to make the artefact glow, she started a manual search for the grey stone in the grey light. Realizing she didn’t need to be careful, she shifted to tossing objects off his desk, but it wasn’t there.

She turned to the shelves. Here, she couldn’t bring herself to throw things. She had no idea what was junk and what was priceless.

“Hera wept.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she gasped and spun around to the brightly painted mother goddess statue speckled with glass chips that sat in the corner. The room wasn’t exactly as it had been the first time — the goddess held a cube in her arms.

A broad smile bloomed on Juniper’s face. “Ha!” she shouted as she grabbed the artefact.

A clanging alarm split the air.

“Zeus’ bollocks.” She stuffed the artefact in her jacket pocket, preparing to make a run for it. She turned towards the door, only noticing movement at the last second. Then her head exploded in pain, and she fell to the ground.

She blinked, and her vision became a little less blurry. Thaddeus Prior loomed over her, a heavy Nazirean dynasty taqlib in his hand.

“I’ll take that,” he said, reaching his free hand towards her.

“What?” Her voice sounded weak and woozy to her ears.

“Do I need to jog your memory?” His fingers tightened around the taqlib, and the way he held it indicated he knew how to use it.

Juniper gave him a sour scowl as she reached into her pocket.

“If it’s anything but the cube, your brain is splattered across my office.”

She huffed and shoved her hand into her other pocket, pulling out the artefact and handing it to him.

He tucked it into a pouch slung over his shoulder. “Now the blaster. Slowly.”

Her eyes narrowed, but she did as asked.

“Toss it here.”

She threw it wide and was shocked when he nimbly picked it out of the air. She held her breath, expecting to be shot at any moment.

Then a crash reverberated through the building, sending dust raining down. Apparently, he thought better of sticking around to kill her.

Once he was gone, Juniper groaned and lay her head on the floor, bringing her hand to her forehead. She’d have a lump tomorrow.

“Are you dead?”

Juniper blinked as Phil’s disembodied voice spoke in the dim room.

“I don’t know.” She tapped her wrist patch. “Are we both dead?”

“No, but we will be. Thaddeus Prior mined his own compound. It’s going to blow.”

“What?” Juniper blinked, processing that. “Why would he do that?”

“Don’t care. Get to the Cats now.”

She pushed herself up. The office spun, but she stayed upright. “No. You get to the Cats. I need to get the artefact.”

“Juniper.” Phil’s voice was tense even through her wrist patch.

“Philomena.” She knew Phil hated her full name. “I’ll be fine.”

“You don’t sound fine,” Phil said, then cut the call.

Read the grand finale.

Juniper shoved the artefact into the crack, no longer caring about how she’d discovered it, as Vera’s steps became audible.

“You’re sure this is where you found it?” Phil asked. She pulled out her tablet.

She gave a half shrug, half nod. “Pretty.”

“Okay, let’s discover this thing.”

Juniper turned back to the crevice, realizing her arm was still stuck inside, her fingers clutching the artefact. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a green light blink on, indicating Phil was recording.

She racked her brain, trying to think of what she’d say if this were her first time finding it.

“I swear I saw something.” She moved her arm around, fingers still wrapped around the cube, praying she didn’t disturb anything living in there.

“Are you sure you should be sticking your arm into that hole?” Phil asked, quirking an eyebrow.

Juniper started to make a face, then remembered the camera would capture it for posterity.

“No, so I should grab it quickly. Ah, I’ve got it.” Even to her ears, her words sounded fake.

“Hey, what’s up?” Vera came up beside Phil just as Juniper pulled out the cube.

“Juniper’s found something in that hole.”

“Let’s see.” Vera shoved past Phil and crouched in front of Juniper.

Juniper held the artefact up to the light, turning it back and forth, as she tried to remember what it had felt like to see it for the first time. But she didn’t have to remember — she was still stuck speechless with a quiet awe.

“A hunk of stone.” Vera plucked it from her fingers, causing Juniper to emit a quiet yelp. Vera cast an odd look at her then wrinkled her nose as she examined the thing. “I was expecting jewellery or something.”

Juniper peered at her with wide eyes. Even unflappable Phil turned to stare at the student.

Vera handed it back. Either unaware of their horror or not caring, she continued. “I’m heading into town if anyone wants to join me. We’re invited to a party. The captain of that fancy ship that brought Fennick in.”

“Um, no.” Juniper stood, dusting off her pants with her free hand. “We need to catalogue this find.”

Phil shot her a look. “You can do that, can’t you? Do the basic logging. Work with Betty.” She enunciated each word in the last sentence.

Juniper squinted at Phil, wondering why she’d stressed that last part: work with Betty. Who already knew about the artefact and couldn’t keep a secret to save her CPU … unless she had specific instructions to stay mum. “You’re right. I can.”

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The camp was eerily quiet except for Betty’s occasional questions regarding what she could and could not tell people about. Even Fennick had gone to the party, despite being an introvert, After she’d whispered to him that the ship’s fancy computers could analyze the writing.

She sat at the table under the canopy. At first, she’d enjoyed the golden sunset and the chirps and rustles of the desert creatures. But now the sun had fled, and the crepuscular animals had finished their hunt. The nocturnal ones were either still in bed or were being very quiet.

“Can I talk about Fennick and his case?” Betty’s faceplate lights flashed yellow.

“No, not that either,” Juniper answered automatically, then blinked. “Actually, yes. That you can talk about.” She returned to the 3D scan, checking that it reflected the actual object. The lines swam on the screen, but it wasn’t because of the cube’s unusual behaviour when wet. Her tired eyes couldn’t focus.

She rubbed her face and stifled a yawn. “I think I’m done.”

“You should eat.” Betty leaned closer. “You haven’t yet. Dr. Keys said I should make sure you eat.” Her lights faded. “Oh, right, maybe I don’t need to do that anymore.”

Juniper’s stomach rumbled, and she smiled at Betty. “No, thanks for the reminder. I forgot.” She picked up the artefact and turned it around. She decided to wait until morning to capture video of what happened when it got wet.

She tried to boot up their comms so she could at least report the find with the information she had. But it had also decided it was done for the day — the pyramid on screen spun in a slow circle, never connecting. “Probably another ansible attack. I guess that’s a problem for tomorrow.”

Standing, she craned her neck and then arched her back, eliciting a cascade of pops, as she peered out into the darkness. Despite the quiet, she swore a pair of eyes glowed for a second, catching the light from the camp.

She swallowed. Usually she was fine being alone, but every once in a while, shivers crawled up her spine.

“Hey Betty,” she said as she turned away from the night.

“Hmm…yes?” Betty’s hum changed into a question.

She grabbed the artefact. “Can you store this somewhere on yourself tonight? Keep it safe?”

The lights on Betty’s faceplate flickered and brightened. “Of course, Dr. Juniper.”

With the artefact safely stowed, Juniper went to the kitchen and made a mug of tea. After staring at the ready packs, she stuffed some meal bars into her pockets instead and headed into the night again.

She paused on her way to the sleeping pod, her breath catching in her throat as she craned her neck to look at the sky. The stars were out in full force, the moon not yet risen. The sparks of the Wall were lost in the lights of the Desolation. Somewhere out in the desert, an animal hooted, reminding her she wasn’t truly alone. Glancing around, she hurried to the pod and shut the door between her and the creature.

Juniper sat bolt upright in bed. Half of her hair flopped over her face as she blinked and tried to figure out what had woken her.

She rubbed her eyes and glanced over at Vera’s cot. It was empty, so it wasn’t her pod mate’s snoring. She squinted as if that would help.

The wind rustled against the pod walls, but she was used to that. It wouldn’t have disturbed her sleep.

From the light coming in through the lone window, she guessed it was the early hours of dawn. Not full dark, but the sun hadn’t risen either. Not a sane time to wake up, but she wouldn’t get back to sleep now. Besides, the pod was already hot.

She pulled on her jeans and then shook out her boots. That’s when she heard it. A motor. And not a Cat.

Dropping the boot, she threw open the door and peered outside. Dust rose from the desert on the route towards town. She ran across the sand in bare feet—a part of her brain told her that was a bad idea. She skidded to a halt under the canopy, where Betty crouched, humming some Meropian opera.

Glancing around, everything appeared as she’d left it.

“Betty, who was that?”

The lights on Betty’s faceplate cycled through a computing pattern, and she stood. “Who?”

“In the vehicle.” Juniper pointed towards the disappearing dust trail.

“Oh, Vera.”

She exhaled. The student had just gotten a ride home. She realized she hadn’t talked to Vera yet about her desire to leave.

“Where is she?” she asked, hoping Vera was too hungover to have that conversation, given she was just getting dropped off now.

“She’s not here.” Betty pointed to the dust trail. “She’s in the buggy.”

“She wasn’t getting dropped off?”

“Yes. And then she got picked up again.”

She shook her head. “Why come back just to leave again?” she muttered.

“She wanted to see the artefact.”

A rock dropped in Juniper’s stomach. “And you let her?”

“Of course.”

“And she took it.” She slumped into one of the camp chairs, not even bothering to look if a sand spider had taken up residence on it.

“Yes.” Betty’s tone was chipper. “She was very keen to show it to her friend.”

Juniper groaned as she hung her head between her knees. “No.”

“Oh, was I supposed to keep it safe from her?” Long, low beeping noises emanated from Betty. “I thought you meant strangers.”

Juniper looked at her and sighed. “It’s fine.” She stood and patted the robot’s arm. Then she strode out from under the canopy.

“Phil,” she shouted as she banged on the door of the woman’s pod. “Wake up.”

After a few seconds, the door opened. “I just went to bed.” Her silver and brown hair snaked out from her head, having escaped from the elastic that usually held it. The dark makeup she lined her eyes with had smudged, causing shadows. “Why are you shouting?”

“Vera stole the artefact.” Without waiting for Phil’s response, she spun around to go find Fennick.

“Okay, one more time now that I have coffee.” Phil leaned against the kitchen unit, hair wrangled into an elastic again.

Fennick sat on his cot, rubbing his face. Betty crouched in the doorway, her faceplate dim, seemingly unsure if she should come in or leave.

“Vera stole the artefact.” Juniper put her own coffee down. “Well, I assume she stole it. She asked Betty for it.” She rubbed her cheeks in an attempt to wake up. “But she didn’t do it alone.”

“But how do you know she stole it? You’re assuming.”

“Maybe she was kidnapped?” Fennick added.

Betty emitted a sad beep as she moved forward. “She seemed to get into the buggy willingly.”

“I’m going after her.” She went to the locked cabinet in the corner and placed her palm on the scanner. The door popped open, revealing the contents.

A strangled gasp came from Fennick. “Guns?”

She regarded him with a quirked eyebrow. “We’re in the Badlands.” She pulled out her blaster and checked the charge, then grabbed her holster and a couple more charge cartridges.

Phil came up beside her and took a pulse rifle from the supply along with a handful of charges, laying them on the table. “Do you even know where to start looking? The wind will have erased any tracks.”

“Betty’s records can point us in the right direction.” She snapped the holster onto her belt and tucked the charges into her pockets.

“I—” Fennick stopped and sighed, his shoulders slumping. “I might have an idea.” He stood and pulled his tunic on over his undershirt. “At the party … she was talking to someone.”

“Who?”

“Don’t know. He wore a purple jumpsuit covered in sparkly—”

“Thaddeus Prior.” Phil’s eyes narrowed. “After we paid him for protection.”

Juniper made a face. “I haven’t paid him yet.” She huffed. “At least we know where to find him.”

“Yeah, at his heavily guarded compound.” Phil grabbed her blaster, tucked in its holster, from the cabinet along with a hunting knife. She snapped both onto her belt then grabbed the rifle from the table.

“Why are you going after it then?” Fennick’s voice squeaked. “Get the authorities to go after it.”

Juniper managed to only roll her eyes, but Phil snorted.

“What authorities?” the other woman said. “Badlands, remember?”

“I’m not willing to let this thing fall into Thaddeus Prior’s hands. We’ll never see it again.” Juniper followed Phil’s lead and grabbed the other pulse rifle.

“What she said.” Phil glanced up at him, pausing in attaching the knife to her belt.

Fennick sighed again. “Wait, if you insist on doing this, I know someone who might help. She has experience with criminals … having been a criminal herself.”

Read Part 7.

Juniper clutched the cube, wrapped in her sweater, to her chest. Sweat slicked her palms as she strode through the blazing sun across the baked ground.

She shook her head, still unsure if she was doing the right thing. She couldn’t pinpoint why she was so reluctant to report the artefact. Sure, it had a stark beauty that she’d hate to see locked up in a cabinet in an archive somewhere. Or in the Emperor’s private collection, or worse, sold to the highest bidder. But that wasn’t reason enough to keep it secret, given that it would make her career, allow her to escape the shadow of her father’s reputation — Fillion Gilcrest would be a footnote.

Still, butterflies took flight in her stomach as she neared the command centre.

When she entered the arched structure, Fennick looked up from where he sat at the table with a large glass of water and a warm ready meal in front of him.

“I see you found the food.”

He shrugged. “It’s been a while since breakfast.”

She put her bundle on the table and went to the cupboard, pulling out another meal packet. She futzed with the water dispenser and set the timer. Recognizing it for a delay tactic, she turned back to Fennick.

Juniper gasped. His finger traced the line of glyphs on one of the cube’s facets.

She snatched up her sweater, which had fallen open, and moved to snatch the cube away. “What do you think you’re—” She stopped herself. She’d brought it here for him to examine after all.

“I found it,” she said. “Here.”

He looked up, confused. “This wasn’t in any of your reports.”

She shook her head. “I…. I’m waiting. It’s not like anything I’ve seen, that writing.”

He shovelled in a mouthful of noodles. “Me neither,” he said around the food. “But it’s faint.” He squinted. “And small.”

“I searched the linguistic databases as best I could from here.”

“Nothing?”

“No.”

She jumped when the timer pinged. Grabbing a pair of chopsticks and her meal pack, she joined Fennick at the table.

“The stone, it’s….” He turned the cube back and forth, catching the light. “It’s almost as if I can see through it. Or into it.” His voice dropped. “Like there are stars inside. How’d they do that?”

“I’m more concerned with who at the moment.”

There was a bang at the door, and Juniper flung her sweater over the cube. And Fennick’s lunch.

Then Betty’s voice came from the outside. “Could someone open the door? Mr. Fennick’s case is heavy.”

Juniper opened it and held it as the robot entered.

“Why is your case so heavy? Even Betty says so.”

“A few books.”

“I’m fine, Dr. Juniper. Just couldn’t get the door open.” Betty put the crate by a cot Juniper hadn’t noticed. It thunked as it landed, and the building shook, dislodging dust.

“A few books?” She pinched her nose to stop a sneeze as she peered at Fennick, who had the grace to look contrite.

Betty stepped towards the table. “Oh, you found Dr. Juniper’s cube.”

Juniper spun around to see she hadn’t covered the artefact after all, just Fennick’s lunch. Her heart fluttered. “How do you know about the cube?” Her hands came to her hips as if that would prevent things from spiralling out of control.

“As you say, robot ears.” Betty’s hand lifted to gesture at her head and then dropped again, knocking over Fennick’s full glass. Water tumbled out.

“No!” She lunged towards the cube but not quickly enough: the artefact was soaked.

“Oh, oh no.” Betty straightened, her head nearly hitting the ceiling, then shrunk. “I’m sorry.”

The breath caught in Juniper’s throat as she watched the cube, her eyes widening.

“I think I ruined it.” Betty’s voice was muted.

The writing, which had been almost the same colour as the stone, throbbed a brilliant cyan. The lines of glyphs wavered then seemed to dance on the surface.

Fennick leaned back. “I’ve definitely never seen that before.”

After a few seconds of stunned silence, Juniper pulled out her camera and started snapping pictures, turning the cube around. She got to the last side just in time — the stone dried and the glyphs faded to grey.

She slumped into the chair across from Fennick. “Bleeding Hades.”

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As Juniper flipped through the images from before and after the soaking, Fennick peered over one shoulder, and Betty stood behind the other.

Finally, after the fifth or seventh time, she put the tablet down. “I have to put it back.”

“What? No.” Fennick grabbed the tablet. “This is the discovery of the century.”

“Except for the Celeste.” She arched an eyebrow as she reminded him of the last of the lost treasure ships. Fennick and her father had found it … only to have it stolen from them. And her father from her, an ache in her chest reminded her.

“Well, yeah.” He made a face. “But no one knows about that except a handful of gangsters, an Archon, and the crew of your mom’s cargo ship.” He carefully placed the tablet back on the table. “We can’t let that happen again.”

“Exactly. I don’t mean put it back to hide it away.” Juniper grabbed the cube and wrapped it once more in her sweater. “It needs to be ‘discovered’ properly. If I put it back, you and I can go for a walk and stumble upon it.”

“That seems dangerous.”

“Putting stones into a crack in a rock face?” she said. “I can haul Vera along if you’d rather not.”

He made a face. “No, it’s the find of the century. Being there could make my career. Maybe I could study it in the safety of a lab.”

She tucked the package under her arm just as the door to the command centre opened.

Phil strode in and stopped halfway to the table. With her hands on her hips and a scowl on her face, even Juniper was intimidated.

“Apparently, you are my mentee.” She glared at Fennick.

He shrunk into his chair before straightening and pulling his shoulders back. “What did you want me to do?”

Phil’s lips tensed. She huffed, and her arms dropped. “I don’t know.” She strode back out.

Juniper glanced at Fennick, who stared at the door with wide eyes.

“It’ll be fine,” she said. “She’ll warm up once she gets to know you.”

“How long does that take?”

Juniper shrugged. “Haven’t seen it happen yet, but I’m sure you’ll know when it does.” She headed to the door herself before turning back. “Stay here, get settled. I’ll come back for you once it’s in place.”

Juniper navigated the dry ravine, trying to find the crevice she’d pulled the cube from. She was sure this was the branch she’d found it in. Well, almost sure. One looked much like the other, and she hadn’t tracked her route that day.

Sweat snaked down her back as she picked her way across stones deposited ages ago. Her foot caught, and she put her left hand against a rock to keep from falling.

A rattle sounded, and she jerked her arm back. Then she noticed the irate jade beetle spread its black wings. New out of its pupal stage, its abdomen, still pale in colour, wouldn’t be full of noxious liquid yet. So she ignored it and continued to pick her way across the rocks.

Around the next bend, the ravine began to look familiar. Sure enough, a few metres on, she saw the crevice.

A breeze ruffled her hair, and she glanced back. The pungent scent of warm shrubs tickled her nose, competing with the pervasive metallic tang. Wind-whipped clouds sped along overhead.

She scanned the orange and brown gully, making sure she was alone before kneeling down to the crack. Getting closer to the ground than she had when she’d removed the artefact, she peered into the dark. Not that she could see anything more than the first time.

“Pox,” she muttered cursing herself for not bringing a flashlight. Then she pulled the cube out of her bag and leaned forward, intent on sliding it into the opening in the earth, trying to remember the orientation she’d found it in.

“You shouldn’t reach your hand into dark holes on Acheron.”

Juniper spun around, still clutching the cube. “Phil.”

The other archaeologist peered down at her with her arms crossed over her chest.

“I was just—”

“I know what you’re doing.” Phil didn’t move. “Hiding that … whatever it was you found.”

Juniper sat on the ground. “How did you know?” She shook her head. “Never mind … Betty.”

“No.” Phil dropped her arms. “I didn’t need Betty for this. You weren’t as secretive as you thought, trying to study it late at night after we’d gone to bed or into town.” She crouched in front of her and held out her hand. “You have a tendency to fall asleep over your work.”

“Jacks.” Juniper hesitated, her lips tense. She huffed out of her nose, then handed Phil the artefact.

Phil flipped it around in silence for a moment, the furrow in her forehead getting deeper and deeper. “What is this?” she asked.

Juniper shrugged. “I don’t know. I can’t find any record of that language.” She jerked her chin at the cube. “But there’s more.”

She took it back from Phil and placed it on the flat rock between them. Pulling her bottle out of her bag, she splashed some water on the stone. She held her breath, unsure it would repeat its performance from earlier. But seconds later, the writing glowed, and the glyphs danced.

Phil fell back onto her bottom. “Nyx’s knickers.”

“Yeah.”

“But why are you putting it back? This is huge.”

“So huge it needs to be found in situ.”

Phil gave her a look like her dad used to when she’d done something wrong.

“I know. I shouldn’t have removed it in the first place, but—”

“Hello?” Vera’s voice cascaded down the ravine walls.

“Jacks. I thought she’d gone to town.” Juniper exchanged a look with Phil: the artefact had to be back in the hole before Vera arrived if she had any hope of fixing her mistake.

Read Part 6.

Juniper stalked towards the Cat. Then stopped and turned on Fennick. He flinched and quit dragging his case through the sand.

“What are you doing here?” She pointed a finger at him.

“The Authority said I needed a new mentor. I still have to finish my degree.”

“So they assigned you to me?”

He looked at the ground, digging the toe of his soft shoe into the dirt. “Well, no.”

Those shoes were going to last a week, she thought. Then his words caught up with her. Her hand dropped. “What?”

He swallowed. “I’ve been assigned to Dr. Philomena Mamoud.”

Juniper’s cheeks became hot, but she barked out a laugh. She turned on her heel and strode towards the Cat, not caring if Fennick kept pace.

A minute later, she stopped again. It wasn’t Fennick she was angry with. She let him catch up. “Welcome to Acheron.” She reached down to grab the other end of the heavy case. “The Cat is just over here.”

Once settled behind her on the Cat, his case strapped to the back, she pressed her thumb to the key panel. The Cat coughed, and she jabbed hard. “But you were sent to spy on me?” she asked without turning to him.

“I—” He stopped for a second before continuing. “I’ve been asked to report on what you’re doing here.”

“Are you going to?” she asked, but the Cat’s motor kicked in, making it pointless to respond unless he shouted. His head made this nod-shake waggle move that wasn’t a definitive answer.

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Juniper pulled the Cat up beside its twin, only distinguishable by their unique patterns of oil streaks and rust patches. After turning it off, it clunked, wheezed and ticked.

“So?” she asked, her hands clenching around the steering wheel. She could see Phil and Vera working under the shade canopy by the test pit. She turned to Fennick.

“I didn’t want adventure, and I certainly don’t want to be a spy.” He clutched his book bag to his chest as he finally met her gaze. “I wanted a posting at a library.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.” She kept her voice low, recalling Betty’s keen hearing.

“We basically grew up together.”

“Not really. You only started working with my dad six … eight years ago.”

“Yes, when I was a teenager.”

“And I was doing my doctorate.” She arched an eyebrow. “Also, not an answer.”

His shoulders caved. “No, I don’t plan to spy on you. Sounds like you haven’t found anything, anyway.”

Movement by the canopy drew her attention. “Well, we should introduce you to the others.”

Fennick jumped off of the Cat and went to fight with his case.

“Leave it. Betty can get it later. After we see if Phil’s found a place for you.” She waved him towards the pit.

As they neared the canopy, a cube rose from the ground and formed into Betty. The robot’s eyes lit up. “Mr. Sammi. I didn’t expect you here.” She raised a hand in greeting, knocking one of the canopy’s guy lines out of the earth.

“Whoa!” Phil grabbed the sagging pole as Juniper banged the peg back into the packed earth with a handy rock.

“Hey Betty.” Fennick raised his own hand and then apparently thought better of it.

Juniper’s eyes went to the tray they’d been bent over. “Find anything?”

“Yeah, a tooth.” Vera’s tone revealed what she thought of that — not much — but Juniper’s heart fluttered with hope.

“Of a manix,” Phil added, squashing that hope.

Fennick leaned over the tray. “Still, points to a much wetter past.” His voice was quiet but confident. Not the Fennick she remembered.

“Or it points to some Stardust baron’s idea of a game park.” Vera turned to Juniper. “Who is this guy?”

“This is Fennick Sammi. Fennick, Vera.” Juniper watched her student’s gaze slide from Fennick to her and back.

“Why are you here?” Vera asked, settling on Fennick.

“I’m … I’ve been….”

“He’s been assigned as a mentee.” Juniper turned to Phil, who’d returned to examining trays of dust. “To Dr. Mamoud.”

Phil stood bolt upright. “Zeus’ bollocks. What?” She glared at Fennick then at Juniper as if it were her decision.

“Fennick, this is Phil.”

Fennick slouched.

Phil grabbed her hat from the table. “Excuse me. I need to make a call. Then I’m going to the bar.” She stalked off towards her pod.

“Wait,” Juniper called after her, but she didn’t stop. “Did you find a place for him to sleep?”

“You’re bunking in the command centre.” Vera slapped Fennick on his chest before heading towards the Cats as if the workday were over.

Juniper studied Fennick, who shifted under her examination. She bit her lip as indecision warred with her need to tell someone about the artefact.

“Dad trusted you.”

“Um, yeah?”

“With the Celeste.” The hunt for the last lost treasure ship had been her father’s life’s work. Literally costing him his life. Her chest constricted, and she force herself to breathe. “Command Centre is over there.” She pointed towards the arched structure. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

Read Part 5.

Juniper blinked, then squinted against the bright sun seeping through the semi-opaque walls of the sleeping pod. She screwed her eyelids shut and threw her blanket over her head.

A snorfle sounded from the other cot.

She groaned as a high wheeze followed. Apparently, Vera had made it back last night, inebriated by the sounds of it. Juniper tugged the blanket down enough to glare at Vera, who showed no signs of waking.

She sighed. Any possibility of getting back to sleep fled, driven away by Vera’s snoring.

Vera. Juniper moaned. She needed to talk to her about her request to leave. But she needed coffee — and a vertical Vera — for that.

She threw off the blanket and swung her feet out. She shivered. Even though it promised to be hot today, judging by the sunlight seeping into the pod, the night had been cold and clear. As she shrugged her sweater on, she caught a whiff of herself—she needed a shower. It just seemed pointless when she’d end up coated in dust again.

She dragged her boots from under the end of her cot and shook each one out before slipping it on. She’d learned the hard way that sand spiders weren’t the only creepy crawlies out here. Fire worms liked to curl up in dimly lit places. They weren’t poisonous, but the hairs coating their trunks caused a rash and a burning sensation that made you wish you were dead.

All the more reason she’d been stupid to reach into a dark cranny to retrieve the stone cube. She still glanced down to where her trunk was tucked under her cot. The corner of the chest peeked out from under her bed. She frowned, chastising herself for not sliding it all the way under.

She glared at it as she nudged it back. If she mentioned the cube, it would be the discovery the Antiquities Authority needed to give her another season … but every time she thought of handing it over, her stomach clenched.

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“Coffee’s on.”

Juniper’s head swivelled to where Phil stood at the corner of the pod, her brown eyes peering at Juniper as she sipped from her cup—the one with ‘I dig bones’ written on it, which no one else was allowed to use. Every time she saw it, she wondered who dared give the imposing woman such a gift.

“Thanks.” She rubbed her face and ran her hands back over her temples and hair, as if that would help her wake up.

“You need a shower.” Phil sniffed. The sun caught the strands of grey in her curly dark hair.

Juniper made a face. “I know.” She sniffed. “I need more than a shower. I need to be soaked in a tub for a week and rung out, along with my clothes.”

“You could do what I do.” One of Phil’s eyebrows arched. “Sand bath.”

“Seriously?”

“No.” She snorted. “I go to the baths in town where Yulia scrubs off the layers of dirt along with five years of my life.”

“Is that where you go every night?”

“Hades, no. Most nights I go to the Canteen, drink myself silly and curse my ex-husband. And my ex-wife.”

Phil turned away and headed towards the command centre, and she followed.

Thankfully, Phil waited to carry on their conversation until Juniper had a cup of coffee in her hands.

“I hear you got a call.”

Juniper peered at Phil over the rim of her mug, plain white with the Antiquities Authority logo on it. “Mmm.”

“From Selwyn.”

“How….” She stopped when a beep sounded outside. “Right, Betty.” She sighed and put her mug on the table, deciding she needed real food in her stomach to face the day.

Phil tipped her head in a nod. “You should know she can’t keep a secret to save her CPU unless given specific instructions.”

“And has the ears of a robot.” Juniper shook her head as she dumped a scoop of cereal and dehydrated fruit into a bowl.

“I don’t mean to eavesdrop,” Betty’s voice came from outside.

“Do not tell Vera about the conversation,” Juniper said, hoping the student was still asleep.

“What about Vera?” Phil asked.

Juniper focused on dispensing hot water into her bowl instead of answering. But that only took a few seconds. She was forced to face Phil.

“Selwyn says we need finds, a discovery, or we won’t be returning.”

Phil’s voice was flat. “Jacks, how will I ever survive not coming back to this pit mine of a planet.”

“There’s stuff here.” Juniper waved her hand towards the outside, sloshing hot coffee on her other hand. “You’ve seen it—the rock carvings, that bone, the bricks.”

Phil squeezed Juniper’s shoulder. “My dear, idealistic archaeologist. They don’t care about the kinds of things we’ve found.”

Juniper didn’t need to ask who they were. In the lives of archaeologists, ‘they’ always meant the doyens of the Imperial Antiquities Authority.

Phil continued. “They want flash that they can show to the public, the Six Families, and the Emperor. Whoever might give them more funding.” She released Juniper and grabbed her hat from the table.

“But—”

“But nothing. You need to learn the game if you want to survive.” Phil put her mug in the sink. “I’m heading to the test pit.”

“I’ll tell Vera to join you when she’s back in the land of the living.” Juniper shovelled a mouthful of cereal into her mouth to forestall more conversation.

Phil stopped with the door half open. “About Vera—”

“Dr. Keys.” Betty’s voice came through the walls. “You have a call.”

“Selwyn again?” Phil asked.

“No, from the Berenike.”

“The what?” Phil’s forehead furrowed.

“A ship in orbit.” There was a pause. “They have a passenger.”

“Selwyn’s someone.” Juniper’s stomach dropped, and the few bites of cereal she’d eaten congealed into a lump.

“Who?” Phil asked, but Betty continued.

“They’re landing outside of town and need someone to come pick him up. Expected arrival time 13:45.”

“Should I….” Phil peered at her.

“No, I’ll go. You and Vera work the pit. Find me some finds.” Her face scrunched. “And see if we have a place to put this person.”

Phil snorted. “They’re not staying with me. I bring my own pod so I don’t have to share.” She shoved her hat on and left, letting the door fall shut behind her.

Juniper exhaled into the moist air. Phil’s mention of the baths had been an irresistible lure, even though she’d just get coated with dust on the drive back to the dig site.

She’d forgone Yulia’s body scrubbing, but had gotten them to help wash her hair, which now dripped water onto her shoulders.

The tub was small but deep — and the water was still warmer than the shower in the lavatory pod at camp, which dribbled tepid water … when it worked.

Her wrist patch buzzed again. She sank down to her armpits in the warm water, as if that meant she didn’t have to go meet whoever this person was that Selwyn had sent.

She sighed and pushed herself out of the tub, grabbing the towel from the hook on the wall. Gently squeezing her hair dry with one hand, she read the message that had come in: HERE.

Juniper frowned at the lack of preamble and the generic ship ID. She looked around and found her now-clean clothes folded on a chair by the door. She sent an answer: ON MY WAY.

Dressing as quickly as she could with her body still damp, she shook out her boots and put them on.

She tapped her wrist on exiting to pay for her time. She didn’t care how much it cost; it felt so good to be clean.

Then she stepped outside. The sun baked the streets of town even though it wasn’t noon yet. Sweat formed in her armpits almost immediately.

“Still worth it.” She squared her shoulders and marched towards the landing patch outside of town.

Halfway there, Thaddeaus Prior stopped in her path. He sat in the passenger seat of a sand skimmer, which hovered a foot off the ground. The vehicle was so expensive — the only one on Acheron — it instantly pegged him as a drug baron.

“Dr. Keys. Juniper.” He smiled at her as he lifted his dark glasses up and tucked them in his slick pompadour. Today’s jumpsuit was bright blue and, as always, left little to the imagination. The rhinestones sparkled in the sun.

She frowned. “Prior.”

His eyes narrowed. “Your payment is due in 5 days.”

Her nostrils flared. She knew he meant his protection fee ‘discounted because he was a lover of science’. Last year, meeting in his office at his compound, she’d paid. But only after Selwyn insisted that’s how things were done. She didn’t intend to do it again.

“I’ve already paid.”

He chortled. “You’re funny.” He laughed again, then his smile fell. “4 days.”

“But—”

The skimmer took off, and she squinted against the eddy of sand it kicked up.

As she continued towards the landing area, her shoulders tightened, and the bath was already a memory.

When she arrived, she didn’t have to ask around to find the Berenike. It stood out like an Andassian horse in a herd of Siriun muskokan.

“Poseidon’s pox, Selwyn, what have you done?” she murmured and wished she’d brought Betty. She set her lips in a thin line and headed towards the ship. Its black surface shone in the midday sun, a slight iridescence rippling over it.

As she neared it, a ramp extended from the side and a door opened. A gust of cool air escaped from the dark opening.

Juniper stayed back, her fingers twitching at her hip. Lessons in shooting were a requirement for fieldwork in certain areas of the Dominion, including the Badlands. However, she’d left the blaster at the dig site, and even the flare was locked in the Cat’s trunk, parked 20 metres away.

A figure formed out of the darkness, and Juniper squinted at the person’s back. They seemed to be frozen at the top of the ramp.

A crystalline voice came out of the ship. “Any time you want a ride, Fennick, let me know.”

The figure raised a hand, then dropped it and turned around, a look of despair on his face.

“Fennick Sammi?!” Juniper’s jaw gaped to see her father’s assistant drag his case down the ramp, which already had a fine layer of dust on it.

Read Part 4.

“Vera,” Juniper said loudly as she left the canopy and started towards the command centre, which also served as their kitchen and lab.

“She’s gone to town.”

Juniper flinched and spun around. “Betty. You need to stop doing that.”

“Doing what?” the robot asked, the speech line on her faceplate flashing in time. “Do you mean speaking? Okay. Oh no, that’s speaking. I’ll be quiet now.” The lights on Betty’s face dimmed.

“No, you can speak.”

“Oh good, that was difficult, not knowing if I should tell you about the sand spider on the canopy behind you.”

Juniper shivered at the thought of the eight-legged arachnids the size of her hand with their large pedipalps. She stepped away from the structure without looking back.

“Always tell me about the spider. When I said stop doing that, I meant stop sneaking up on me.”

“I didn’t think I was sneaking. I was just waiting.”

“Never mind.” She shook her head. “If Vera’s gone to town, I’ll talk to her tomorrow.” She tried to pretend she didn’t feel enormous relief at delaying that conversation. “What about Phil?”

“What about me?” Philomena ‘call me Phil’ Mamoud stepped out of the shadows, and Juniper realized it was now full-on dark. Phil reached behind Juniper and hit the canopy with her hat. Something skittered into the night. “Sand spider.”

“Yeah.” Juniper swallowed. “Any supper left?”

“No, we ate it all. Wouldn’t be good cold. You can come into town with me, grab something at the Far Gone Canteen.”

That thought made Juniper’s stomach clench more than a sand spider behind her.

“Thanks, I’ll scrounge up some food here.”

“You sure? Vera took the other Cat.”

Meaning Juniper would be stranded at camp unless she wanted to be carried into town slung over Betty’s shoulder.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. See you tomorrow.”

The other woman shrugged and then headed towards the remaining Cat, its rusty carapace turned into a midnight blue bulk in the night.

Juniper watched her go before slowly turning around, not wanting to disturb anything that might be lurking behind her. Sand spiders weren’t the only creatures creeping about, waiting to drop on innocent archaeologists.

She entered the kitchen/command centre. It was supposed to seal itself to keep out the dust and moisture that could ruin their electronic equipment. If it had ever worked, it didn’t anymore — or the sands of Acheron were particularly persistent.

She paused at the door and turned back to Betty, who stood watching.

“Did you want to come in?”

“Oh no, I’ll just break something.”

Juniper nodded and let the door fall closed behind her. A weak hiss of air gave the false impression that the seal was doing something, despite the thin film of dust on everything. Then she looked at her hands coated in earth. She wiped them on her pants, which did little good, since her pants were just as dirty.

Sighing, she went to the sink and washed the earth away. The tap sputtered before blessing her with water. After watching ochre dirt turn to orange mud before finally washing off her brown fingers, she almost dried her hands on her dusty pants. Pursing her lips, she grabbed a dish towel instead.

Hands clean, she dug through the cupboards and found a grain bar, some veggie crisps and a bag of spicy fried crickets — a complete meal.

Cradling these in one arm, she added a bottle of bumbleberry juice on top and then headed back into the night. She blinked at the change in light, getting her eyes used to the dark again.

Betty still stood by the door.

“I’m heading to bed early. Let me know if anything happens.”

“Sure thing, boss.”

She smiled as she walked across the site to the sleeping pod she shared with Vera. Betty had been Dustin’s robot assistant for years, but he’d insisted she go with Juniper when he found out she was headed to the Badlands. As she shut the door on the night, she heard the robot humming a tuneless song.

The smile fell as the thought struck her: would her father still be alive if Betty had been with him?

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Crumpled wrappers and an empty juice bottle beside her, Juniper flipped through the photos, scans and sketches again, then the sample data, hunting for anything that would count as enough of a discovery to come back next season.

She glanced down at the cot she sat on, as if she could see the cube hidden in her chest.

Her fingers itched at the thought of it. She slid off her bed and pulled it out into the small space between her cot and Vera’s.

Using Vera’s cot as a backrest, she sat back and ran her thumb over the facets. Each side was about as long as her hand, wrist to fingertip, and surprisingly light for its size. The stone was grey — not the iron-rich red rock around them. That alone told her it wasn’t from here. Then there were the indecipherable glyphs of an unknown language crammed on all sides.

She’d found it before the season even began as she explored the hoodoos in the hopes of finding better sites to excavate. Really, just killing time while she waited for Phil and Vera to arrive. Even Betty had been in power conservation mode, folded into a compact cube. She’d chastised Juniper when she’d woken up to learn her charge had been wandering around without her protection.

On one of her wanders, she’d fallen and slipped down an embankment of a dried-out river. Thankfully, she didn’t break anything. Hadn’t even torn her pants. And at the bottom of the gully, she found a small crack in the earth with something shiny inside.

She still didn’t know what possessed her to reach her hand into the crevice, given the sand spiders and her previous encounter with the Agrippian salt flea. But reach in she had, her fingers falling on an unnatural shape.

As she dragged it out, she’d sworn it glowed, but in the harsh light of an Acheron afternoon, shaded as she might be in the old river bed, the thing sat dull and grey.

However, even dull and grey, it had caused Juniper’s stomach to flutter.

Now, sitting on her cot, she traced the lines of the writing again, grey on grey. She was sure that’s what it was, even though it belonged to no language she was aware of. And no language found in the Imperial Antiquities Authority archives. Even the scraps from the Desolation were nothing like this.

Juniper had a theory: despite an utter lack of evidence, humans weren’t alone in the universe.

Maybe that was why she’d kept the artefact secret so far, not even having Betty run it through spectro — if she shared her theory, people like Selwyn would think she was as mad as her father.

She squinted as she peered into its slightly shiny surface, then jumped as her tablet pinged. She re-wrapped the stone cube and tucked it in the back of her trunk again.

Then she sat on her own bed and picked up the tablet to find a message from Selwyn: ‘Forgot to mention. Sending someone to help in case Vera goes awol regardless.’

Juniper frowned. She didn’t need help, and she didn’t want another set of eyes if she needed to slide the cube back into a hole somewhere so she could find it all over again.

Read Part 3.

Juniper Keys squinted at the square of orange dirt in front of her as if staring at it would transform into a find. As excavation leader, their lack of success fell to her. She gave the patch a desultory swipe with her brush, but the grey dust just swirled over the grey ground. Everything remained cast in grey.

She blinked. That wasn’t right: everything on Acheron was a study in burnt sienna and umber. Looking up, she noticed the sun was setting, rimming the hoodoos near the horizon in gold. Nighttime had turned the baked terrain into shades of ash.

Juniper shivered as she stared out at the bleak landscape.

In front of the hoodoos, stunted spider trees raised their arms to the sky. In the twilight, she couldn’t see the creatures that gave the trees their name. Both animal and plant possessed scrawny, multi-jointed limbs. Closer to her, the ground turned a bruised blue before shifting to grey.

She stood, unkinking her back vertebrae by vertebrae. A groan escaped. She was too young to be so creaky. Her stomach rumbled, informing her she’d worked through supper. Again. And neither Phil nor Vera had called her in. She frowned.

Craning her neck, she peered up at the early stars becoming visible. If she squinted and tipped her head just right, she swore she could make out the glittering flecks of the Wall separating Dominion space from the Desolation.

The planet Acheron sat on the far side of the Badlands. Sitting on the very edge of the Dominion, next door to the Desolation, the Badlands were full of pit-mined moons and strip-mined planets interspersed by the occasional rare earth rich asteroid. So near to the Wall, the sector was peopled by the poor and the desperate … and those who exploited them. And Acheron was nearer than most.

Despite that, a surprising number of archaeological excavations peppered the Badlands. Maybe remnants from a time when it was in the path of the original flight from whatever cataclysm caused the Desolation.

However, these days, few other archaeologists came out here. Sometimes, Juniper wondered why she did.

She sighed and squinted at the dark, making out more of the Wall’s pinpricks of light.

Beyond the Wall lay the Desolation. That was where she yearned to be. But only the hotshot Fillion Gilcrest and his hand-picked team were permitted to enter, and that only recently. She would have given her right arm to be on that mission — she’d already had to regrow it once after that unfortunate incident with that Agrippian salt flea.

She clenched said hand around the handle of her brush then relaxed it. Fillion Gilcrest was living her dream, excavating the remnants of an interstellar civilization wiped out by a nebulous cataclysm … all except those people who had money and means to flee before building the Wall to protect themselves from what lay beyond.

At least that’s how the story went. But Juniper had another theory—

“Dr. Keys.”

Juniper jumped, and the hand with the brush jerked into her chest. “Ow.”

“Are you okay, Dr. Keys?”

Juniper turned to the dig’s Basic Excavation, Testing, and Evaluation unit.

“Betty, you gave me a fright.” She had no idea how the robot snuck up on her when Betty was a bit of a klutz most of the time. Not that she blamed her — she’d be clumsy too if she were so top-heavy. Betty’s skinny legs held up a bulky torso containing all manner of sampling equipment and useful tools. Her arms were as spindly as her legs, but she could still lift camp machinery and even boulders. Two ocular circles and a sound slit gave her a vaguely humanoid face. The better to put people at ease, the brochure promised.

But Juniper didn’t need to be put at ease — she’d grown up around Betty, since the robot had been the BETE unit on her father’s digs and helped at his lab in between seasons.

Now Betty’s eyes glowed a soft yellow as her head lowered a fraction into her boxy torso, indicating uncertainty in her matrix. “My apologies, Dr. Keys, that wasn’t my intention.”

“How many times do I have to tell you? Call me Juniper.”

“Yes, Dr. Juniper.” Betty’s head lifted and her eyes brightened.

Juniper opened her mouth to correct her but gave up. “What did you need me for?”

“You have a call.”

Her stomach dropped. “Nyx’s knickers.” Nothing good ever came from a call. The only call she’d had recently was from her father’s assistant, Fennick Sammi, and his friend, calling to pick her brain on ancient Erivan.

That call had come shortly after the one from the mother she hadn’t seen in years. A call she’d dreamed about for years … except this call was to tell her that her father, Dustin Keys, had died.

She wiped a tear from her cheek.

“You’re leaking, Dr. Keys.”

Juniper shook her head. “I’m fine. Just the dust.” She glanced at the canopy, where she’d left her tablet. It stood empty, its sides open, dirt getting on everything. She gestured towards it. “After you.”

Betty nodded before turning around, a move that knocked a tray of dirt off a trestle table. But nothing was lost since they hadn’t found anything yet. Well, nothing except the glyph-covered cube hidden under her cot. And she hadn’t mentioned that find to anyone else.

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Juniper took a deep breath, then tapped the screen. A staticky image of her supervisor appeared.

Definitely not good news.

“Keys,” he said, the word drawn out by time and space, distorted by ansibles, stretched thin at this distance.

“Selwyn.”

“Your father—”

The image in front of her froze. Juniper thanked a goddess she didn’t believe in for small mercies. She didn’t need condolences from Selwyn Sharp. He was a good mentor, but she knew he thought her father was cracked in the head.

“Professor Sharp,” she repeated more loudly, as if that would help.

Then the image sped up, and she caught the last few words.

“—we’ll have to cut funding.”

Her heart clenched. “What?”

“I’m sorry, Juniper. If you don’t find something soon, we’ll have to cut funding. This will be your last season on Acheron.”

“But we found—” She started to argue about the petroglyphs they’d discovered last season.

“You found some rocks that might be a natural formation.”

“You saw the photos, the map. You know that’s not natural.”

“I’m not the one you need to convince, Juniper.”

“What about the petroglyphs?”

“Scratches on a rock.”

“It’s not—” She stopped, seeing he’d frozen again, or she had.

When the video resumed moving, Selwyn held up his hand. “Again, I’m not the one you need to convince.” He dropped his hand and clasped it with the other one in front of him. He studied them for a moment before looking at the screen again. “Also, Vera Jakes has asked to be transferred.”

Juniper inhaled sharply and looked over her shoulder to the small pod she shared with the student.

“Don’t worry. I told her no, not so close to the end of the season. Besides, no one will take her on with her abysmal marks.”

Juniper’s cheeks flushed. She tried to come up with a retort, but she knew it was true. The only way she’d gotten a student to join a dig in the Badlands at all was because that student’s grades meant she’d fail without a decent review from a site leader.

“I thought you’d want to know. In case you can pull a magical find out of that barren chunk of rock.”

She glanced towards their pod again, her eyebrows scrunching. She had a magical find but hadn’t reported it for some unknown reason. Her fingers dug into the hair at her forehead, then she stopped, realizing they were still coated with dirt. “Thanks, Selwyn.” She clapped her hands together. “I’ll try to turn this into pixie dust.”

He gave her a wry ‘I told you this was a fool’s errand’ smile, then the screen went blank.

Her shoulders slumped as she stared at the dark surface for a minute. Her stomach rumbled again, reminding her she still needed to eat. But first, she had to talk to Vera.

Read part 2 now.

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Fifteen minutes later, I stood outside the big top tent and cocked my head. The crisp red and white fabric seemed out of place in the decommissioned docking bay. We weren’t in Docking Bay 34 where the action was still going on. This was Docking Bay 11, now disabled until retrofitted. In the meantime, the space was being put to use as an entertainment centre.

“I was hoping to come check this place out again,” Ned said. “I hear their robotics are great.”

“Hmmm.” I scratched my cheek. Chief Thumbold seemed convinced the escaped elephants were here, but I remained sceptical. “I guess we’d better check the place out.”

“Note, there are no communication hubs rated for an AI of my stature within.” Susan sounded particularly put out by the low-tech tent.

I sighed. Had I thought about it, I could’ve brought a portable augmenter for Susan’s code.

“We’ll do our best to stay out of trouble.” Ned tapped his ancient body cam. “And I still have this on for the record.”

“Susan, keep watch on the entrances. Ned, you’re with me.”

Without waiting for Ned’s response, I headed towards the main entrance with the rest of the crowd. Crossing the tent’s threshold deposited us into a different world, almost as though we’d gone back in time, long before the station, before the generation ships and back to old Earth.

Overly cheery music played—the kind that would be stuck in my head for weeks. Above, the tent rose up, the fabric glowing from the lights on the other side. With each step, my feet stuck slightly to the floor, suggesting spilled sugary drinks and a lack of cleaner bots—the circus owner must take their low-tech entertainment seriously.

Ned grinned, a smile so wide it almost spit his face. “I love this place!”

Children giggled and enjoyed fluffy masses of cotton candy and bags of popcorn. Some led floating balloons in a menagerie of different shapes—amongst the lions, unicorns, and whales, I even spotted several elephants. My boys would’ve loved coming here back when they were still kids.

I surveyed our surroundings, glad for my excess height. “Chief said elephants were spotted by the peanut roastery.”

The entrance to the main performance area opened up straight ahead. Laughter radiated out as though a clown act was in progress inside. I shuddered and headed towards the concession stands.

“Where’s the peanut roaster?” I asked the pimple faced young man behind the counter.

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he pointed to another opening in the tent wall. Ned and I went through.

Inside, an old-fashioned saloon opened up—well, a replica of one. Families sat at old west style wagon wheel tables sipping fizzy drinks and opening peanuts. Discarded shells littered the floor.

“I see no elephant’s here,” Ned said. “But I’d sure like a bag of those peanuts.”

“Let’s check in back.” I headed past the bar through to where I assumed the kitchen should be. A crash sounded and we ran in as the cooks ran out.

Two paces into the kitchen I stopped. Pam Long stood in the middle. The wizened old lady looked at me and smiled.

“Ah, dearie, you’ve caught up to me.”

Behind her were five little elephants gathered around a bowl of peanuts.

“I could’ve sworn there were more.” Ned kept his tone low as he stared at the elephants.

“Susan, call in pest control,” I said.

“Remember, you won’t raise Susan in here.” Ned gestured at the fabric walls and rustic decorations. “This place is old school.”

I groaned.

Pam took a step towards me. “Please don’t harm them, dearie.” She pointed at the elephants. “I promise I’ll get them off station today.”

I pursed my lips together. “They are unauthorized mammals. The rulebook says they have to be destroyed.”

One of the elephants raised its head and looked at me. It wrinkled its face as it raised a trunk out to Pam. Pam walked over and patted it on the head.

“My dear, you see they’re harmless,” Pam said.

I frowned. The beasts were much cuter than I’d expected. They couldn’t stay on the station, but they didn’t deserve to die. I looked to Ned, but the coward said nothing.

“You need to get them off this station right away. And use the back door, away from station security cams.” I let out a long exhale. If Thumbold caught even a hint I’d let the elephants go, being stuck with Ned as my partner would be the least of my worries.

“Thank you, detective.” Pam turned and pushed her way through the elephants to their snack bowl. She picked it up and left through the back door. Making the cutest little grunts, the herd of elephants followed her.

“Good call,” said Ned. He put his hands on his hips and looked up at me. “I’m hungry, let’s go grab something to eat. I know a great taco joint.”

I stared down at him. Maybe Ned wouldn’t be a bad partner after all. “Why not.”

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It must have taken us less than a minute to get back to the warehouse. I skidded to a halt at the door, sides heaving from the exertion. Ned caught up a moment later. This time the door gaped open, and lights shone inside.

“Did you leave the lights on?” I asked Ned.

“Nope.”

“Crap.” I pulled my phase pistol out of its holster. “Someone else has been here.”

“I’ve got your back,” Ned said, and I heard the sound of his weapon sliding out of its holster.

I paused, surprised to see he actually had a weapon—forensic accounting was about as far as he could get from any actual danger.

Looking him in the eye, I asked, “when’s the last time you were at the range?” I didn’t want to get shot in the back.

“I practice weekly with our precinct’s sharp shooting team.” He cocked his head. “You?”

“Hmpf.” I turned back to the door. Holding my pistol in both hands, I advanced through.

The warehouse was empty, all the fancy equipment gone. Not even a whiff of elephant dung hung in the air. I continued inside.

“This place is empty!” Ned holstered his gun, before spinning around. “How’d she clean it out so fast? We were here just a couple of minutes ago.”

“Susan, did you observe any activity around the warehouses while we were away?” I asked. A knot formed in my gut at the thought of explaining this to my boss.

“Let me check,” replied the AI in a flat tone.

I looked at Ned and he raised an eyebrow. “Did we imagine the equipment and elephants?” It wasn’t impossible for hallucinogenic fungi spores to be released from one of the mycelium factories.

“It was definitely real.” Ned tapped the camera hanging on his chest. “And I have video to prove it.”

I raised an eyebrow as I stared at his vintage device.

“I have checked the station footage,” cut in Susan. “The video feed in this area cut out while you were investigating Mrs. Long’s home.”

“Crap!” I bit my lip. “Chief Thumbold is going to think I’m losing my mind.”

Ned shook his head. “Naw, he won’t. I’ll back you up. Besides, I have footage of the elephants.”

#

“So, the little old lady moved out a lab worth of stuff and was gone before you could apprehend her?” Chief Thumbold leaned back in his chair and wagged an eyebrow in my direction.

“She must have had help.” I kept my posture rigidly straight as I stood on the other side of the desk. The way the Chief described it made it sound like I’d made a rookie mistake and missed something obvious.

“I have more questions about your report,” the Chief said as he scrolled through it.

“Okay.” I glanced through the glass of his office wall. On the other side, Ned lounged, eating yet another spicy cricket taco.

“These ‘mini elephants’ you reported seeing.” He put his finger on the spot in my report. “They stampeded and escaped?”

“That’s what happened,” I said, knowing it sounded nuts. “Ned recorded the whole thing on his body cam.”

“One of our forensic accountants has a body cam?” Chief Thumbold’s right eyebrow arched upward. “Susan, bring up Detective Diamond’s footage.”

“The footage is not yet loaded in our system,” the AI said.

“The camera is an older model.” I hated that I was now vouching for Ned. “I’m sure he’ll have it loaded up shortly.”

“You know I can’t accept a personal feed.” Thumbold frowned. “Once Mrs. Long is lawyered up, they’ll just claim it was doctored. After the incident on Running Horse, no judge is going to accept video of evidence as being real.”

A knot clenched my gut, that incident was still fresh in my mind. A survivor of the settler ship Running Horse used video to prove the ship’s captain had murdered the settlers—it turned out that isn’t what happened at all. I sighed.

“We have eye-witness accounts.”

“We can’t fine Mrs. Long for having unauthorized mammals based on that alone,” Thumbold said.

“I know.” My posture slumped.

“Did you record any evidence at all that proves the existence of these ‘elephants?’”

“Affirmative, there was this.” Susan projected a hologram of the elephant tusk onto the Chief’s desk.

“Detective Ruben, where is this artifact now?” He looked me in the eye.

“It was gone when we returned,” I said.

“Right.” The Chief ran a hand through his thinning hair. “Flo, you’ve got nothing.”

“I know sir, but this isn’t a major crime.” I hated how my tone sounded whiny.

He shook his head. “Your record is solid, and your report matches Detective Diamond’s. I’ll overlook this screw up for now.”

“Thank—”

Holding up a hand he cut me off. “Don’t thank me yet. Detective Diamond has requested a transfer out of Forensic Accounting.”

I glanced at the short man through the glass just as he shoved the last of his taco into his mouth. My heart sank as I realized where the Chief was going.

“As of now, Detective Diamond is assigned as your new partner.”

“Great.” I forced a smile. Working with Ned full time was going to drive me nuts.

Chief Thumbold’s communicator dinged—the elephants had been spotted again.

to be continued…

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“This is brilliant!” Ned marvelled as he leaned closer to the machine we’d found in a backroom of the warehouse. “Someone figured out how to splice genes together in a way to get a slightly-larger-than-house-cat-sized elephant.”

“House cat?” I’d never seen one and wasn’t sure what size they were.

“They’re about this size.” He leaned over and showed cat height relative to his shin. “We had them growing up—well robotic versions. I grew up off station…”

“Right.” I cut him off—I didn’t need his life story. “Why build the machine?”

He shrugged. “For fun, I guess.”

“Where would one get elephant DNA from anyway?” I glanced around. “Humans were the only mammal included in the DNA banks on the old generation ships.”

“Isn’t tinkering with genetics banned under the GenEn protocols?” Ned asked.

“Those protocols only apply to humans,” cut in Susan.

“Mrs. Long is involved.” The pieces began coming together in my head. “She has a weird tooth-thingy that had been recently drilled into.”

“You mean a tusk?”

Without answering Ned, I raced out the door. Running as fast as I could, I followed the elephants’ path down the corridor and into the common space between apartment blocks.

“Susan, release Mrs. Long’s door.” It slid open in front of me and I skidded to a halt in the middle of the space. She wasn’t there. Glancing around, I noticed the tooth-thingy—tusk—was gone too. “Crap!”

“Wow,” Ned said as he entered the apartment not even breathing hard from the sprint. “How can anyone stand living like this?”

“She bamboozled me.” I went over to her teapot and put my hand on its side. Warmth radiated into my hand. “She seemed like a poor old lady struggling to get by, not some criminal mastermind.”

“Are there any back rooms?” Ned walked around the piles of random items and I followed.

We found a bedroom so crammed with stuff I doubted anyone could sleep in it. Empty toilet paper rolls and used toothbrushes dating back decades filled the tiny bathroom. Why hadn’t she put all the garbage into the recyclers?

“She can’t actually live here,” I said as we entered the kitchen. “Susan, please pull up Mrs. Long’s financial records.”

“It’s possible she has a second apartment just to live in.” Ned opened the refrigerator. It was full of empty test tubes—not a single item of food was inside.

I leaned back against the doorframe. “I’ve searched this style apartment before. We’ve looked everywhere.”

Susan cut in. “I consulted Mrs. Long’s financial records. She is on full subsidy and has been for the last 21 years. This is her official residence.”

Frowning, I looked in the cupboards. They were full, but not with food. Ned opened the pantry door and began removing items ranging from a tricycle to contraband cans of paint.

“We’re not here to clean up,” I said.

“Got it,” he said as he pulled a rope. It was attached to a dolly piled with stuff—and it moved smoothly out of the pantry.

“You think there’s unauthorized modifications in there?” I’d seen those sorts of mods elsewhere, but never in the apartment of a little old lady—nor cleverly hidden behind hoarder’s piles.

Ned stepped into the now-empty space and started running his hands along the walls. I shuffled around the dolly to watch. He found a leaver and pulled it. Part of the wall slid open revealing a dark space beyond.

I shone my flashlight in. A staircase led down. The air inside was remarkably fresh.

Ned scrunched his face up. “Maybe we should call for backup.”

“Naw.” I stepped around him. “Everyone’s busy in Docking Bay 34. I’ll take point.” Flashlight in hand, I started down the stairs.

At the bottom, a manually sliding door let me out into a maintenance corridor—the kind not typically accessible to the public. Only registered station workers were allowed into the service maze that kept the station running.

I looked both ways. The walls, floor and ceiling were all painted the same battleship grey with only strip lighting providing minimal illumination. The long corridor extended as far as I could see; even with its low ceiling, I could still make out the station’s curve in the distance.

“I’ve never been a fan of these spaces.” Ned stopped beside me.

“If you stuck with hunting criminals through their numbers, you’d never have to be in these spaces.” My was only gibe half-hearted. “Why would Mrs. Long want to get down here?”

Ned shrugged. “Maybe, there’s a short-cut to her lab.”

“Right. Susan, map the most direct route from where we are to warehouse DZ-473.”

“Warehouse DZ-473 is not accessible from this level,” the AI said.

“Is there a route that will put us directly below it then.” I glanced around. I wouldn’t admit it to Ned but, the maze of maintenance corridors always left me uncomfortable—every now and then very bad things happened in them. Memories of the time those arachnids escaped down here surfaced and I shivered.

“Turn left and walk 43 metres,” Susan directed as Ned and I started walking. After 42 metres, Susan said, “on your right should be an access panel.”

The two of us stopped at the access panel—it was welded shut.

“Now what?” Ned rapped his knuckles against the metal surface. “I think we’ve literally come to a dead end.”

I frowned at the inaccessible access panel and resisted my urge to kick it. Taking a step back, I put my hands on my hips and met Ned’s gaze. “You don’t happen to have a cutting torch on you?”

“Naw, the spreadsheets I normally deal with typically don’t need it.” He scratched his head. “Based on your description of Mrs. Long, I don’t think she could’ve gotten that far ahead of us.”

I stared at him for a minute, then it dawned on me. “We might catch her in the warehouse.” Without waiting for Ned to respond, I turned and sprinted.

to be continued…

For a change of pace, join me on a four part, kinda silly, detective caper set on a space station (complete with tiny elephants and spicy cricket tacos).

I shifted where I sat on the dainty sofa. Down at Docking Bay 34 a sting operation was on the go—one that I should’ve been a part of. A known criminal group were creating fake identification files in their hideout on a decommissioned freighter and we were finally going to catch them in the act. Most of the precinct was involved—except me. 

Bitterness around being left out created a sour taste in my mouth. I protested hard when Chief Thumbold assigned me to this case instead. We were supposed to be policing this space station, not chasing down reports of unlicensed animals. Some kids were probably having a joke at our expense. 

Thumbold wouldn’t budge. With his bushy eyebrows wiggling like the silk worms in Quadrant 17, he told me to investigate the report of stampeding elephants. 

Suppressing a sigh, I looked at the wizened old lady who’d invited me in.

“More tea, dearie?” she asked holding up her white and blue teapot. Jaunty windmills from lost Earth ringed the pot, inviting me into their world—but I resisted and stared Mrs. Long in the eye. She winked. “I mean Detective Ruben.”

“Sure.” I raised the fine bone china teacup I’d been assigned with its too-small-to-put-my-fingers-through handle. The cup didn’t match the teapot; instead it was yellow with white polka dots. “Mrs. Long, three of your neighbours have reported seeing unlicensed mammals in this quadrant. Have you seen them?” 

“Oh dearie, you can just call me Pam,” she said with a wide smile. Based on how quickly she’d invited me in for tea, I assumed she was lonely, perhaps without family on the station. 

With unsteady hands, she poured more hot liquid into my cup. Considering how much her hands shook, it was a miracle none of the liquid sloshed out. As I glanced into my refilled cup, I wondered if Pam realized this was just hot water. But maybe water was all she could afford—this sector was low income, and many of the apartment units were entirely subsidized. Since it would be impolite to inquire and irrelevant to my case, I took a sip. 

“Very well, Pam, have you seen anything unusual?” I struggled to maintain my composure in the oppressive space. 

Pam’s quarters smelled ripe, as though the ventilation system wasn’t working properly. Maybe the stacks of ancient goods covering every horizontal surface were blocking the vents. The amount of stuff in the tiny living room was overwhelming—how could she stand living like this? 

They weren’t moving, yet it seemed like the piles were closing in on me. Some stacks contained random assortments of take-out food boxes, while others were constructed of miscellaneous mechanical devices. At the bottom of one of the piles, I spotted a computer core from a defunct AI system, while in another pile old-fashioned bound books held up an oscilloscope that probably had cathode ray tubes inside. 

The slightest gravity glitch would topple everything, kicking up even more dust into the air. My heart started beating faster as I considered the generations of human skin cells I might end up breathing in. 

“Oh my.” She put a hand to her chest. “What kind of animals did my neighbours see?” 

“Elephants,” I said. 

“My dear, we live on a space station, not a savanna.” Pam settled back into her chair with a yellow teacup of her own. 

I glanced around the room and wondered if the smell could be the result of decades of accumulated clutter. It was an ordinary apartment in the Delta quadrant: two bedrooms, a sitting room and an eat-in kitchen. From my vantage point sitting on the old sofa in the living room, other than being a hoarder’s paradise, nothing appeared out of the ordinary. 

On one side, a large window presented a view of the communal garden space beyond. The clutter piled on the window sill drew my attention. Piles of comics, yellowed beyond readability made a base layer. On top were a series of vases, some displaying dead flowers, others kitchen implements. Oddly, a stuffed octopus sat crammed in the corner, its googly eyes judging me. 

In the middle of the window sill, a long, yellowing object sat on a plinth somehow balanced on top of everything, just waiting for the next hiccup in the station’s gravity. It looked like a combination of a tooth and a horn. Whatever the artifact was, someone had recently drilled into it. The tiny hole exposed a layer of white beneath. But weird artifacts weren’t illegal—unlicensed mammals were. 

“I’m sure there are no elephants on Indigo Station,” I said with a decisive head nod. The only place I’d ever seen an elephant was in the books my sons read as children. “Yet, your neighbours say they’ve seen herds of them.” 

“Hmmmm,” she said, taking a sip of the hot water. “And you took the time to come into my home and ask me about them.” She stared at me for a moment. “Well... since you are here, I have seen elephants.” 

I set my teacup down on its saucer and did my best not to frown. Was the bad air causing mass hallucinations? Or was this an elaborate hoax? And why didn’t she tell me about seeing elephants when I first asked? “Can you describe what you saw?” 

“Oh, I can do better my dear.” Pam met my gaze. “I have footage.” 

“Really?” I shifted forward to pull out my datapad from my back pocket. 

In my haste, I knocked the side table, sloshing hot water over my hand. Looking at the spilled water Pam made a tutting round as she handed me a napkin from the pile beside the teapot. Then, she put down her teacup and stood. 

“That recording is around here somewhere.” She shuffled over to the nearest pile and began sorting through it. 

I glanced down at my wet hand and sopped up the moisture with the napkin. Only after I saturated it with liquid did I notice that someone had written all along one side. I stifled a shudder, re-using napkins was gross. At least the ink didn’t run. Uncertain where Pam’s recycling was, I shoved the napkin into my pocket and planned on washing everything I was wearing later.

“Bingo!” She pulled out an old tablet—the kind once used in the elementary classrooms of my grandparents or maybe their grandparents. “I knew I’d find it.”

I bit my lip. This call was turning out to be a waste of my time—it had to be a hoax. Investigate elephant sightings on a space station, how ridiculous was that? Real crimes were happening out there that needed my detective skills. Maybe it wasn’t too late to join the action in Docking Bay 34.

“Here it is.” Pam sat next to me on the sofa and powered up the tablet. 

She played a video degraded by time—it clearly wasn’t from our space station. The view encompassed a wide open, planet-based space. I shivered, wondering how anyone could stand being out in the open like that—they’d be so exposed. Blue sky extended to the horizon and lush grass covered the ground. Striped animals milled about in the distance and great white birds flew over head. 

“That’s clearly not here.” I pointed to the screen. 

“Just be patient, dearie,” said Pam as a herd of animals with oversized ears and noses sauntered into view. “See, a herd of elephants.” 

“But they aren’t here.” I stood. The smell in the air was getting worse and I wanted to leave. 

“Well... my dear.” She shrugged. “Those are the only elephants I’ve ever seen.” She folded her hands into her lap and looked at me expectantly. 

Taking care not to cause an avalanche off of any of the near-by piles of stuff, I set down my teacup and thanked Mrs. Long for her time. 

As I walked along the path of the communal garden, I looked up at the four stories of apartments. Fluttering laundry hung out on makeshift racks on most balconies. A myriad of cooking smells filled the air, and the scent of exotic spices and charring food made my stomach grumble. 

Dinner time was fast approaching, and I’d be late getting home again, but no one would be there waiting for me to put food on the table. Since both of my boys were off at flight school, I’d just get take-out mushroom rice again.

“Crap,” I said under my breath as it dawned on me that the ventilation system should have sucked all the cooking smells away. Imaginary herds of elephants weren’t the problem—the ventilation system was. 

I stopped and turned to look back at the common space between the two blocks of apartments. Large planters containing trees punctuated the space; in the distance I could see the floor curve upward following the shape of our station. 

“Susan, please run a diagnostic on the ventilation system in this residential quarter.” Even though my assigned AI was a program, she always worked better when I talked to her like a person. 

“Standby,” she said through my earpiece. 

Pursing my lips in irritation over the delay, I wound an escaped strand of hair around my finger. The increased gravity on this level of the station was making my bones ache—I really did need to call it a day and get home where the gravity was normal. On the way I could swing by Docking Bay 34…

“Yo Flo, how’s the detecting going?” 

I jumped at the words and spun to face the person who spoke. Ned Diamond, another detective in the precinct, stared at me wearing a goofy expression—in fact, he almost always wore a goofy expression. 

He laughed as if he’d told a joke. “Yo Flo...that’s a good one—I’ll have to remember that.”

I frowned, looking down on the short, stocky man. I’d never asked him but, based on his physique I had assumed he’d grown up on one of the higher gravity moons. 

My eyes stopped on the body camera he wore on a lanyard around his neck. It was an older model, even our rookie patrol cops got better equipment than that. Ned must have bought it at one of the thrift shops. A little red light on the side merrily blinked—he even had it on.

“I heard you’re on an elephant hunt,” he said with a grin before biting into the taco he held releasing a wave of pungent spices. Pieces of cricket bodies tumbled out of the taco and onto the ground. He’d chosen a spicy cricket taco from one of the dodgy kiosks that sat outside every tram station.

“Why are you here, Ned? Shouldn’t you be sorting through spreadsheets?” I demanded. Ned liked to stick his nose into investigations that weren’t his business, just one of the things about him that irritated me. Who orders spicy cricket tacos anyway? Disgusting. 

“Turns out there’s a lull in forensic accounting.” He took another bite, and I averted my eyes. “Thumbold suggested I come down here and give you a hand. And I thought it was a peachy idea.” 

“Great.” My tone was flat. 

“I have the results you requested,” said Susan through my ear-piece. “Since Detective Diamond is here to assist, I will share with him as well.” 

“Fine.” I met Ned’s gaze as he shoved the last of his taco into his mouth. A dollop of red sauce dribbled down his chin. I had to look away. “Susan, what have you found?” 

“Your hypothesis is correct. There is an issue with the ventilation system in this quadrant. Over the last 14 day-night cycles, there have been 1016 unaccounted for power draws.” 

“How has that affected the ventilation?” I asked, glancing up at the fake blue sky of the ceiling. 

“Each power draw takes 97.3% of the power for 7.58 milliseconds. This shuts down the entire ventilation system for 10.3 seconds. It then takes 49.24 minutes for the system to return to normal capacity. The frequency of these events has meant the system isn’t able to move enough air.” 

“Hence the lingering smells,” I said. 

“Hey Susan, can you pinpoint the source of the power draws?” asked Ned. He looked at me and said, “Maybe someone is powering a flux capacitor.” 

I opened my mouth to retort, but Susan cut me off.

“There are unauthorized re-routings in the quadrant,” said the AI. It was a statement of the obvious; the station was more than two centuries old, and unauthorized modifications were common. “I have traced them to the warehouse district on the other side of accommodation block A-114.” 

A-114 was the block where residents had reported seeing the elephants—and where claustrophobia-inducing Mrs. Long lived. I shivered as an image of her heaps of stuff popped into my head. 

“Can you pinpoint the exact location?” I asked. 

“Negative,” Susan replied.

“No wonder,” said Ned. “Those warehouses are infested with smuggling and shadow organizations who employ smart people to remain untraceable.” 

I pursed my lips. All of us who worked in the field knew that. “You learn that from your spreadsheets?” 

“Yep.” His answer didn’t suggest he noticed my slight. He put his hands on his hips and surveyed our surroundings. “How about we go and look around?”

“Fine.” I started down the side corridor leading to the warehouse district. 

“Yo Flo, what did the witnesses say?” Ned asked as he struggled to keep up with my long gait. 

“Three people said they saw actual elephants lurking around the apartment block and one old lady insisted on serving me hot water and showing me an old video.” 

“Were there elephants in the video?” 

“Yes.” I stopped mid-stride and looked around at everything except Ned. “But I suspect someone doctored the footage.” 

“I heard elephants actually roamed free on lost Earth.” His tone suggested he possessed some ancient knowledge. I ignored his comment. 

The corridor opened out into the warehouse district, and we stopped. A much lower ceiling—only two stories up—made the space feel cramped. Dimmer than station standard lighting left a shabby veneer on everything. Being the dinner hour, the area was deserted. 

“Susan, what are these warehouses supposed to contain?” I asked the AI. 

“Directly ahead, DZ-471 is supposed to house gears and other mechanical components. Beside it, DZ-472 is registered to contain toilet paper.” My eyes followed Susan’s explanation. “DZ-473 is currently empty, and DZ-474 contains medical supplies.” My eyes stopped on the doors of DZ-473. 

“Who owns DZ-473?” I asked. 

“The listed owner is Long enterprises,” said Susan. 

“Any connection to Pam Long?” I thought back to the old lady and her piles of stuff. 

“There is no connection on record,” said Susan. “In fact, there are 1798 individuals with the surname Long on this station. None of them appear connected to Long Enterprises.” 

“Then who owns it?” 

“The company is registered to the Long family on Drako moon,” answered Susan. “They also own mining rights to Sunset crater on that moon.” 

“How is that connected to this warehouse?” 

“Unknown,” replied Susan even though the question was rhetorical. 

“How ‘bout we take a look inside,” said Ned as he started eating a second cricket taco. “We might find a clue or two.” He snickered. 

“Where did you…” I pointed at the taco—he’d finished eating the first one and I didn’t remember him holding a second one. “Never mind. Let’s go look. Susan, please override the side door to DZ-473 on the clearance of Detective Florence Ruben, serial number 9763B-42.” 

“Running your credentials now,” said Susan as if she didn’t already know them. All the department AIs had been programmed to be sticklers for detail and I knew better than to argue—department AIs also had the right to file complaints about the humans they worked with. 

A click sounded from somewhere inside the door. I stood back to watch it slide open, but it didn’t. 

“Susan, please open the door,” I asked, fighting to keep an annoyed tone from my voice. I noticed a trash bin off to the side.

“I have. It should have opened,” said the AI. 

“They probably rigged a lock on the other side,” said Ned between bites of taco—it was just as messy as the last one. “Maybe we should call for someone with a battering ram.” He finished the taco and went to wipe his hands on his pants. 

“Ugh. I’ve got a napkin.” I fished out the napkin from my pocket and handed it to him before stepping closer to the door. Everything about it was ordinary. I shifted my gaze over to the control box. It took both a swipe card and had a keypad—if I punched in the right series of numbers, the door would open. 

“Long Enterprises,” I said, more to myself than to Ned. “Mrs. Long has to be involved; it can’t be a coincidence she lives so close.” Maybe the old woman had family, after all—connected-to-crime family. I ran my hands down my hips as my mind churned. “Looks like we need an old-school numeric code.”

“Huh.”

I looked over at Ned. He held out the napkin, now smoothed out in his hand.

“Where’d you get this?” He handed it back to me. The while pulp contrasted sharply with Ned’s dark hand. 

“Mrs. Long gave it to me,” I said, staring at the napkin. The writing I’d noticed before was actually numbers. “I doubt this’ll do much, but I’ll give it a go.” I punched the numbers in.

The stench that wafted out as the door slid open was worse than a cricket farm. Before I could move away, knee-high animals stampeded out, knocking both Ned and I off balance. I windmilled my arms to stay up right, but failed and toppled onto my side.  

“What the...” started Ned as he stepped out of the animals’ way. The moving mass of grey ears and trunks made it impossible to count the beasts. Their footfalls sounded louder than their size would suggest.

I got to my knees and watched the herd race towards the corridor leading to the habitation sector. The little grey animals let off high-pitched trumpets of what sounded like joy. As they ran, their ears flapped around as though they might take flight. The whole scene was ridiculous. 

“Huh?” I recognized the animals as elephants. “I expected them to be much bigger.” 

Beside me, Ned giggled. “I guess we need to call pest control.” 

“Done,” said Susan.

I stood staring at the corridor where the elephants had disappeared. “We need to figure out who to issue the ticket to.” I turned and peered through the doorway to DZ-473. It remained dark inside, and I wasn’t looking forward to the stench. 

Ned got up and stood beside me. “I wonder what else might be in there? Mini-dinosaurs?” 

“Those definitely never existed.” I pulled out my flashlight and walked in. 

to be continued

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Part 3

In a folding chair tucked into a corner to stay out of the way, I began reviewing the case details mentally. “You took a pastry from the control room.”

“Yeah.” Ned sat strapped into a much more hefty chair to keep him from floating away. His dark hair hung in his eyes as he looked down at the ground—the saddest version of Ned I’d ever seen.

A medic in a crisp uniform efficiently collected blood samples from Ned’s left arm. The sharp, antiseptic smell of disinfectant wafted from her as she worked, and the soft clinks of vials created a subtle soundtrack. We’d soon know if Ned’s blood contained any Brocca particles. At least one mystery was solvable—albeit a smaller one.

“They weren’t floating around in their box, though—I would have noticed that,” he added as the medic left the room.

I picturing the control room and how the box of baked treats sat properly on the counter. “They were all properly settled in the box.” I bit my lip. “I did see a floating pastry.”

Ned groaned and buried his face in his hands. I almost wanted to pat him on the shoulder and tell him it was all going to be okay.

“Susan, can you check if there are any odd power fluctuations in the harbour master’s control room?” My voice echoed slightly off the smooth, metal walls of the police medbay.

“Power consumption in the control room increased by 0.971% 13.57 minutes before the reports of gravity issues.” Susan’s voice resonated from the overhead speaker. The precision of her analysis, devoid of any human inflection, added an eerie layer of seriousness to the situation. At least for once she wasn’t being snarky.

“Did someone log when the baked goods arrived in the control room?” I stood to stretch my legs. My hands ran down my pants, smoothing out nonexistent wrinkles—an absent-minded gesture I found comforting amidst the chaos.

“Negative,” came Susan’s crisp reply.

I pursed my lips together, and I went through what little info we had. “Ned, I’m going back up to the Control Room.” The overarching mystery wasn’t going to solve itself. And right now, following up on potential anti-gravity pastries was my best lead.

“I wish I could come with you.” Ned looked up at me with his big brown eyes. “I feel like I’m letting you down.”

At the door, I glanced back towards him and gave him the best reassuring smile I could manage. “I know you’ll be there for me on our next case.”

When I arrived back in the control room, the empty box of pastries sat on the counter exactly where I’d remembered them to be. I walked over and lifted the box—it was much heavier than it needed to be.

“What did you find?” Ned asked over the comms line.

“A heavy box.” I glanced over to where the employees still floated around the room. A subtle hint of vomit scent now hung in the air. Their expressions now suggested they were no longer finding their plight any fun.

I opened the box to find a single pastry left—a sad looking one studded with raisins. Pulling it out, I held it over my head and released it. The tasty treat floated away—meaning the Brocca particles were probably in it. But why hadn’t they floated out of the box?

“Ben Fray,” I called when I finally spotted the shift supervisor.

Looking much more exhausted than before, Ben pushed himself off a wall and drifted towards me. “Detective,” he said, stopping himself next to the now empty box. “Have you figured out our gravity problem yet?”

I looked him in the eye. “Brocca particles in the baked goods.”

“Brocca particles?”

“They’re a weird new particle that apparently can change buoyancy depending on…” I let my words drift off as I shifted my attention to the box. After dumping out the crumbs, I ran a finger along the inside of the box. As soon as I found enough of a lip, I pulled the bottom out. It was just a flap of icing covered cardboard. I let it go, and it drifted away.

“What the?” Ben shifted to get a better view of what was inside the false bottom.

A large coil surrounded a rectangle, which I assumed was a power supply. I scratched my head. It certainly looked like it could be a device to create an electrical field—our technicians could figure out for sure. I put the box back down, and it stayed down.

“Who did you say brought the pastries in?”

“My ex wife.” Ben sounded more subdued than before. “I thought she was just trying to make things up to me, after…”

“After what?” I asked, keeping my expression neutral. Ben’s winy tone grated on my nerves, but I didn’t let my irritation show.

Ben sighed. “After she essentially abandoned me. That woman remained in her lab constantly. She said she’d discovered something important, but never told me more.”

“Ben, who’s your ex wife?” I asked.

He looked down at his feet. “Peg Pog.”

I let out a long exhale. “Dr. Pog of the physics department?”

He nodded, still avoiding eye contact. Dr. Pog had the knowledge making her a viable suspect—even more so considering I’d met her. But did she have enough motive?

“That doesn’t explain why she’d do this.” I gestured to the people floating around the control room. Interference with station operations resulted in severe penalties.

Ben drifted slightly away from me and if he thought I was going to hold him accountable—which I might because I suspected he wasn’t exactly innocent.

“I wasn’t…” Ben’s words trailed off as he stared at the control room entrance.

Like a whirlwind of tiny chaos, Dr. Pog stormed into the room. She put her hands on her hips and focused her attention on her ex-husband. The room focused on her. “Ben Fray!”

“Peg.” Ben let himself drift until I was between him and his ex. “I didn’t think you’d care.”

“You didn’t think I’d care!” She marched to the room’s centre as staff cleared a path for her. “You sold my property!”

Ben shrugged. “You never came back for them. Besides, they were just comics for kids. I didn’t think you’d care.”

Jabbing a finger towards Ben with each word, she said, “They were collector editions of Hank the Hippo given to me by my father when I was ten.”

“Did you ever read them?” Ben asked. His tone had now shifted to whiny.

“Of course I didn’t. They were collector editions—too delicate to risk getting fingerprints on.”

“That’s enough,” I said before things took an even more ridiculous turn. “Peg Pog, you are under arrest.”

She shook her head. “Hell no.”

Before I could react, she threw a ball right at me. As it hit the centre of my chest, it burst into what looked like glitter, coating me in shiny orange and pink particles.

“What the…” That’s when I realized my feet were no longer on the floor. I started drifting upward before I could activate my magnetic boots. “Crap!”

“I’m out of here,” Pog shouted, pointing at me now. “You’ll never catch me.” She sprinted out of the room.

“Susan put out a call to arrest Dr. Pog from the university,” I said as I scrambled to grab a hold of anything while trying to maintain some level of detective decorum. “She should be taking the elevator from the control room now.”

“Affirmative. I will send officers to detain her as she exits the elevator,” Susan said, sounding very judgy of my predicament (or at least that’s what I imagined).

Ben launched himself into me. “I’m sorry about this whole thing,” he said as we approached a wall.

The two of us slammed into it. Ben bounced away and I only barely had time to activate my boots. Despite the pain radiating from my shoulder, I ran down the wall and onto the floor. Fortunately, my miss spent youth had left me an expert with magnetic boots.

“Go get her!” Ben shouted, and the rest of the staff in the room cheered.

Without responding, I headed out into the corridor to the elevator. The call button had been pressed, but Pog was nowhere in sight.

“Susan, is there another way out of here?”

“There is an emergency access corridor that runs parallel to the elevator shaft,” the AI said.

“How do I access it?” I started running my hands along the walls, hunting for a hidden pop-out panel.

The elevator dinged, and I spun around. Pog shouldn’t be coming back up, but who knows how that woman’s brain worked? She seemed pretty kooky to me. I saw who it was and sighed.

“Hiya Flo.” Ned came out of the elevator grinning like a fool. “I got some magnetic boots and came to help.”

I thought I’d left him safe and sound in the medical centre. “What?”

Ned pointed to his neon green boots. It’s not like anyone could have missed them. They practically lit up a room. They were the trendy brand our station parkour felons liked to use. I didn’t ask Ned where he’d found them (probably out of an evidence locker).

“Right. Help me find the access panel to the emergency access corridor.” I continued down the left wall while making a mental note to ensure the boots got returned later.

“Oh.” Ned stepped to the right. “Here it is.” In a single motion, he opened the hidden panel. Part of the wall slid open, exposing the corridor. Clearly he had known exactly where it was and from his expression, I could tell he wanted me to ask him about it. I didn’t.

Instead, I stepped forward and stared down. Corridor was too grand of a descriptor, it was just a narrow tube with ladder rungs on one side.

“Well...” I pursed my lips together. “She wasn’t in the elevator.”

Ned shook his head. “Nope.”

“That’s the only way she could have gone.”

Ned nodded. “Yep.”

I bit my lip—the dark hole wasn’t appealing in the least. I’d never been a fan of tight spaces. My gut twisted.

“I’ll take the lead.” Ned jumped headfirst into the so-called ‘emergency access corridor.’

I groaned and followed, deactivating my boots and trusting the Brocca particles I was coated in wouldn’t do anything weird in there.

Lucky for us, lights came on in the section of the ‘corridor’ we were on, allowing me a full view of Ned’s gaudy boots and the rungs I was pulling myself along. Eventually, I’d have to change my orientation (because I was going head first towards the main ring of the station), but for now, I was just pulling myself along as fast as I could.

Ned stopped abruptly, and I nearly smacked into him. “This is weird.”

“What?” I couldn’t see past him.

“No access door should be here.”

“What do you mean?” I pulled myself up next to him in the ‘corridor’—it was a tight fit and I got to smell the last round of spicy cricket taco sauce he’d spilled on himself.

But, Ned was right, there was an access panel in the side of the ‘corridor.’

“I think we are only about halfway to the main station ring.” I reached out and ran my finger along the panel’s edge. There wasn’t a gasket. “This isn’t sealed.”

“That means there isn’t a vacuum on the other side.” Ned shifted.

“Let’s get Susan to run a search on this,” I said, expecting Susan to jump onto the comms line like she typically did. When she didn’t, it dawned on me we were out of range of the station relays.

“Why don’t we just investigate instead,” Ned said. He opened the door before I could tell him that was a bad idea.

“What in the hell?”

Lights were on in the space beyond the access panel, exposing a familiar feeling space. It was a science lab with multiple cluttered benches and several workstations embedded into the walls. A musty scent filled the air, along with hints of cinnamon—an odd combo.

I pulled myself into the space that shouldn’t exist. A weak gravity field kept everything down. But, I still floated (I’d never be a fan of Brocca particles—in fact, I wished I’d never encountered them). I activated my magnetic boots and hit the deck with a thump.

An air vent above me had a pink ribbon tied to the grill that wiggled as the air moved past it. Working lights and ventilation suggested stable power. I placed my hands on my hips and continued to study the space. Then it came to me.

“This looks like one of those old science orbiters.”

“What do you mean?” With a thunk, Ned’s boots made contact with the deck beside me. I glanced over at him, half expecting him to be snacking on something (weirdly, he wasn’t).

I walked over to the nearest bench where a bunch of vials contained bright orange and pink floating particles. “Back in the early days, the Protectorate commissioned tones of small science orbiters to study all the new planets we’d found.” I scratched my head. “But they were all decommissioned about fifty years ago.”

“That’s impressive,” Ned said.

“What do you mean?”

“That you knew all that stuff without having to ask Susan.” He wandered around studying the blank workstations as I debated if he was trying to insult me or not. “But if they were removed from service so long ago, why is one here?”

“That’s a good question.” I scratched my head as I surveyed the space that had no good reason to be here. “A bunch are still in use by private citizens. Some back-to-our-space-origins sorts, some Star Cult members, some private science folks and some as criminal hideouts.”

From what I remembered, each outpost had a lab, a mechanical room, and living quarters for a crew of three. We were in the lab, which was clearly in use despite all the workstations being powered down. To my right was a door with ‘Living Quarters’ stenciled on it in chipped orange paint.

“So someone slapped one of these things onto Indigo Station and no one noticed?” Ned asked as he started picking up vials full of something pink.

“Be careful with those.” I pointed at him just as it looked like he was about to shake the vial. “And it appears someone did.”

He put the vial back in the rack. “Do you think it was Miss Poggy-wog?”

I frowned. “Stop with the name rhyming. It’s going to backfire on you.”

He shrugged and followed me towards the door. “Still, how did no one on the station notice this place?”

“That’s an interesting question that probably needs Susan to search for the answer.” I approached the only door leading deeper into the science orbiter. “Let’s check out if Dr. Pog is in there.” Realistically, she had to be—it was the only option that made sense. Assuming my memory of these structures was correct, there shouldn’t be an airlock that way.

Ned nodded, and we both took shelter on either side of the door because who knows what kind of weapons Dr. Pog might have whipped up? With one hand, I slid open the door, staying clear of the open space.

A ball passed me, just like the one that she hit me with earlier. It hit the bench and burst into a cloud of glitter, coating all the vials. Within seconds, the vials began floating and bumping into each other. I bit my lip and hoped they didn’t contain anything volatile.

I met Ned’s gaze, and he tipped his head towards the open door.

“Dr. Pog, this is detective Ruben. I need to take you in for some questions,” I said in the sternest tone I could muster.

“You’ll never take me!” she shouted from somewhere beyond the door.

“No one’s going to harm you.” Ned foolishly stepped into the doorframe. He held both hands in front of himself and smiled, which made him appear harmless (which I kinda thought he was).

I leaned forward just enough that I could see inside the next compartment.

Pog pointed at Ned. “My ex has, no doubt, started a smear campaign against me.”

Ned shrugged. “I haven’t heard anything from him other than he really liked your baked goods.”

That’s what I was smelling. The cinnamon was from the baking. I stepped into view. “Dr. Pog, do you live here?”

She stood in front of a kitchen counter, looking smaller somehow. “When Ben and I went separate ways, I moved in here.”

I stepped past Ned into the kitchen. “How did a science orbiter end up here?”

She shrugged. “It’s been in the family for some time.”

I took a moment to survey the space. The banquet seating upholstery showed signs of multiple repairs, and the kitchen counter was chipped from constant use. Overall, the small common room was really clean—and clearly someone had been living here.

“I prefer being alone,” Pog said as I walked around.

A single porthole-shaped window gave a fantastic view of the ring of Indigo Station. I stuck my head into the three cabins, then into the single washroom. Nothing seemed out of order.

“You need to come down to the station,” I said.

Peg Pog nodded as she slouched and stared at the floor. She seemed defeated, and I almost felt bad for her.

I slumped down in my desk chair as soon as I finished the paperwork on the case. Yes, it was my day off, but my sons wouldn’t be docking for hours yet and I wanted to get the paperwork out of the way (besides, Chief Thumbold had promised me a full extra day off in compensation).

Someone slid a pink box across my desk. I looked up at a grinning Ned. My first response was to frown.

“I got us some treats.” He sat down on the crappy chair I kept for visitors. “Guaranteed to keep our feet on the ground.” He opened the box and handed me a cupcake with pink icing covered in sprinkles.

Despite my better judgement, I took it.

“Did they lay charges against Dr. Pog?” he said, wisely refraining from any rhyming.

“Yes, just for mischief, though, so she’s probably facing community service.”

Ned grinned. “She seemed kooky, not evil.” He shoved a whole cupcake in his mouth and grabbed a second.

“True. Still, what she did was dangerous—and it’s going to take the Station a few days to sort out arrivals and departures.” I took a bite of the cupcake—there were real strawberries in it. “She mentioned that her science orbiter had been attached to the station for a long time. I reported that to Station Control, but they didn’t seem at all concerned about it.”

Ned nodded. “My husband works in the mayor’s office. Apparently, there are non-conventional spaces all over the station. As long as they don’t pose a threat to station integrity, the unwritten rule is to just leave them be.” He shoved another cupcake in his mouth.

“So, Dr. Pog gets to keep her home?”

“She sure does.” Ned pointed at me. “Now you should head to your home. It’s your day off.”

This month’s book is the book 3 in the Bloodborne Pathogens urban fantasy series, A Spell of Death.

Mina Sun is still alive.

Well, undead actually.

Despite the monsters stalking the city’s alleys and shadowed spaces, she saved herself from her maker and her best friend Cam from the Herald of Night.

And Night still hasn't come.

But the Librarian thinks the final arcane weapon entangled with the legend of Night has appeared in the city.

Coincidence? Mina's a little too busy to care.

Cam lies comatose, bound by an unknown magic, and unable to share whatever secrets she holds about the Herald or the coming of Night.

And Mina still has to settle things with her family and mother’s estate before she 'dies' herself. Jack promised to help her die and untangle herself from the bonds of family.

But Jack is missing, and disease spreads like tendrils of ink through the netherworld.

As Mina struggles to find a way to release Cam and retrieve Jack, she discovers a powerful bargaining chip. But using it might cost her her life. Or worse, her soul.

Can Mina save the people she loves without losing herself?

If you’re a free subscriber, use code JAN2026-50 for a 50% discount on A Spell of Death over on the store — or subscribe to get free books each month (or grab the whole series for 25% off using JAN2026-BBP-BOX).

Read more

If you just joined in, jump back to Part 1 here.

Part 2

I snagged a coffee from a kiosk at the first public tram station we came to. Fortunately, the morning rush was over and the commuter crowds had thinned out. With I sigh, I slumped down into an open seat and sipped my brew. The bitter liquid was exactly what I needed. Ned sat beside me.

“The dean’s receptionist has informed me that Dr. Penelope Pog is available to meet you,” Susan said over a private comms channel to Ned and I.

“Great, we’re already on our way to quadrant 14,” I replied. Quadrant 14 was where the university was.

Ned furrowed his forehead. “Dr. Pog. Dr. Pog, that name sounds familiar.”

“Maybe because it is easy to rhyme to?” I stared down at my datapad and began scrolling through messages. My two sons had messaged me, asking why the station’s ports were closed. I responded saying it wasn’t anything dangerous, just weird physics (ignoring the fact that physics is one of the most dangerous things around).

“Dr. Pog sat on a log, Dr. Pog liked to jog, Dr. Pig had the face of a—.”

“Enough,” I said, cutting him off.

Ned seemed unfazed. “You’re right. Her name is perfect for rhyming.”

“Hmmmm.” I pulled up that recent newsfeed article on the Bocca particles. It was the only physics related news item that I’d seen in years (turns out physics doesn’t change that much—and it almost never breaks). I delved into the article with such gusto that Ned actually stopped talking.

Dr. Penelope Pog’s lab was secluded off a maintenance corridor behind the main university concourse—without Susan’s directions, we never would have found it. The lab’s location made me suspect Dr. Pog either was hiding away or the university was hiding her away.

As the corridor narrowed past the recycling room, patches of half-hearted graffiti started popping up on the walls and dust-covered trash filled the corners. This didn’t seem like a place for an office, respectable or not. I couldn’t help but suspect we were on our way to visit a wing-nut of some form.

Ned and I stopped at the door we’d been directed to, right beneath a glitching light. The surrounding hallway appeared deserted. I doubted any students—or any human—ever ventured near here (well, someone must have made it this far, as the stench of urine hung in the air). This perfect horror-vid setting made my hair stand on end.

“This is it,” I said, focusing on the door. Someone had taped a handwritten note saying ‘do not disturb’ in all capital letters and underlined twice to the door.

Ignoring the note, Ned knocked. The sound of his knuckles made a dull gong that reverberated down the hall.

“Go away,” shouted a woman from inside. “I don’t do office hours.”

I licked my lips and said, “the dean suggested we talk to you about a physics problem. Oh, and we’re station police.”

The door slid open and a tiny woman with wild grey hair stuck her head out. She looked both ways down the corridor before waving us inside. “Get in, get in,” she said with urgency. She wore green-lensed goggles over her eyes—and they weren’t the AR kind. Just ordinary safety goggles.

Ned and I entered her lab.

“You didn’t see any students lurking, did you?” she asked. “They keep pestering me with stupid questions.”

“Nope, no students,” Ned said with a smile.

“Dr. Pog, we understand you study gravity?” I said, making sure Ned didn’t delve into any potentially offensive name rhymes.

Dr. Pog stood up tall (her full height was even shorter than Ned). “Indigo Station University, and the Protectorate, recognize me as their leading expert.”

“Right,” I said. All I needed was for her to answer a few questions. “I need you to look at this.” I held up my datapad, and she didn’t even glance at it.

“And that upstart, Hu.” She paused to adjust her goggles. “He is plagiarizing my work. I mean, my ideas are all down here.” She gestured to a pile of old-fashioned pulp notebooks on the table behind her. “He must have snuck in here. You know the university locks are not secure.”

I glanced back at the door. There were at least four separate locking mechanisms.

Pog continued, “That putz must have read everything and put it all back in perfect order.”

“Oh.” I had no idea who Hu was, but I’d rather talk to him instead of this wing-nut. I made a mental note to ask Susan to get us an appointment with him.

“I’m going to have to report him.” She spun around and met my gaze. “Can I report his theft of my intellectual property to you?”

I shook my head—that was not a rabbit hole I was going to go down. “You need to take that up with the dean.”

“Right.” She started walking towards the door.

Ned stepped into her path and smiled, blocking her exit. I was surprised he still held that pastry in one hand. As if he just noticed it himself, he grinned and took a bite.

“Dr. Pog. It is of critical importance that you look at this footage. Only you can help us with our current investigation.” Okay, I was playing it up a bit, but she seemed the kind of person who would respond well to flattery (and I didn’t have an appointment with Hu yet).

She turned back towards me. “Oh yes, let me see.”

I played the live feed from the control room.

Dr. Pog leaned in and removed her goggles. She squinted at the feed, then let out a belly laugh. “Physics isn’t the problem. Blame gluttony.” She turned and left the room, leaving Ned and me behind.

Ned took a second big bite out of his pastry. “That didn’t seem helpful.”

“No, no, she wasn’t.” I wandered around the lab, finding nothing of note while Ned finished his sticky treat.

“So, where we heading now?” Ned asked as the two of us exited the maze of maintenance corridors that hid Dr. Pog’s lab and returned to the main university atrium.

I stopped and put my hands on my hips and looked around. A handful of students moved between classrooms, but mostly the space was clear. I suspected Dr. Hu would be busy with the dean and Dr. Pog shortly—and I didn’t need to be anywhere near that woman’s complaints. Besides, I felt like we’d hit a dead end. I sighed.

“Let’s head back to the office.”

Ned licked the last of the icing off his fingers. “Can we grab some lunch on the way?”

I sighed again. “Sure.” My stomach grumbled. “I could eat.”

Then Ned put a hand on his belly and burped loudly. Some of the passing students looked our way before continuing on and snickering. I noticed Ned’s skin had taken on an ashen hue.

“You okay?”

He burped again, this time louder. “I feel... strange.”

“Do you need to sit down?” I started leading him to one of the nearby benches.

He shook his head. “No, I’m fine. Let’s just get back to the office.”

“Okay.” I changed direction towards the tram station at the end of the concourse. The fact that Ned no longer wanted food was a red flag.

“Detective Ruben,” someone shouted, and I turned. A young man with a mop of vivid yellow hair was running our way. He stopped a pace away. “I’m Dr. Hu. The dean said I might be able to help on a case?”

“Flo,” Ned said beside me. I ignored him.

“Can you look at this feed?” I asked as I pulled out my datapad.

“Flo!” Ned said again.

“Whoa!” Hu took a step backwards.

I turned just as Ned floated up to my shoulder height. I grabbed a foot to stop his ascent. “Help me get him.”

Dr. Hu and I pulled Ned back to the ground, but it took both of us to keep him down.

“Do you think it was contagious?” Ned asked. His eyes were wide as he stared up at the atrium’s ceiling over six stories above us.

“Let’s get you out of here,” I said. Having Ned float up to the ceiling could end really badly. Hu and I held Ned down as we headed towards the tram station. I looked at Dr. Hu. “I need your help to get Detective Diamond back to the station.”

Hu nodded.

“But, if this is some sort of airborne contaminate...” Ned’s words trailed off.

“If it is, it is already out in the station,” I said.

“Is this related to what you were going to show me?” Hu asked.

“Yeah, everyone in the port authority’s control room is floating just like Ned.”

We dodged around a group of students exiting the station, none of them seeming to even notice that Hu and I were holding Ned down. Maybe we just appeared as an oddly friendly trio out for a stroll?

“Since this is also happening to your partner, I have to assume it isn’t a gravity plating issue in the control room,” Hu said.

“The gravity plating there is working just fine,” I answered. “We already checked that.”

“Perhaps it’s glitching weirdly.” Ned kept glancing up at the ceiling as if he was expecting to end up there. “You know, some sort of intermittent issue.”

“That wouldn’t explain you,” Hu said. “As there’s no gravity plating on the main wheel of the station. We rely on centrifugal forces from the station’s spin.”

“Right,” Ned said.

Just then, another crowd of distracted students flooded out of the tram station. They jostled us as they passed, and I lost my grip on Ned. On the other side, Hu did as well. Ned floated upwards, moaning as the crowd all stopped to watch.

“I’m not a fan of heights,” Ned said as I frantically looked around.

A few metres away, a massive tree rose up out of a planter. “Boost me up,” I said loosely to Hu as I raced over.

“The higher he goes, the lighter he’ll get.” Hu stayed put and stared at Ned as if he was making ascent calculations in his head. “There’ll be less centrifugal forces up there.” He pointed at the ceiling.

While Dr. Hu continued to fill me in on gravity facts, a group of students helped me up into the tree. I grabbed onto the first branch and pulled myself the rest of the way. Grateful for the hours I spent sparing and the upper body strength that gave me, I climbed the tree like a ladder. It didn’t take long for me to get higher than Ned. At the last big branch, I shimmied out until it started to bend. Ned floated just below me, grabbing at the branches as he passed.

“Help, help, help,” Ned was muttering in a low tone.

I took a deep breath, told myself I’d be fine, and jumped onto Ned. My weight was enough to slow his ascent. The two of us hovered in place. A student who had followed me up the tree jumped onto us as well. The three of us slowly began sinking.

A few moments later, a fourth student jumped onto us. With their additional weight, we descended faster. Soon we were within reach of others on the ground, and they pulled us the rest of the way down.

“The only thing I can think of that might do this are Brocca particles,” Hu said as he resumed his place, holding Ned down.

“Thanks!” I said to the students, and they dispersed, giving us friendly waves as they went. “Let’s get back to the station.”

“Brocca particles?” Ned said as we approached the tram station.

“They’re the exotic particles holding up the islands at Seven Soaring Swans,” Hu continued. “Recently, research has demonstrated that an electrical current can manipulate their buoyancy.”

Ned shook his head. “That makes no sense. No one is running electrical currents through me!”

As soon as we made it to the station with its much lower ceiling, I relaxed a hair. “Hang onto this.” I pointed at a metal bench and Ned grabbed a hold of it. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

What I did next was way out of character for me, and I’m almost unwilling to admit I did it. I went to the food kiosk and ordered a spicy cricket taco. It was for Ned.

to be continued…

Part 1

When my alarm sounded, I already stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows that made up one wall of my living room. Outside, a chaotic ballet of ships, from bulky cargo haulers and ordinary ferries to those snooty luxury liners, swirled around the station like the bees buzzing around the hives on deck A8. Even on my days off, I still woke well before I needed to.

My place was one of the rare Indigo Station apartments with windows facing open space. Homes primarily faced green spaces—atriums, gardens, squares—reflecting a belief that nature promoted wellbeing. Of course, the quality of the greenery varied, depending on the cost of rent. Every time I gazed out at the stars beyond reminded me of how much I preferred my vista of the void over some straggly garden (because that was the best a cop like me could afford if I faced inwards).

Today, my boys would be on one of the ships out there. Both of them were coming home for a rare visit. I had reservations at Em’s Pies for dinner tonight and I wouldn’t fault them if they skipped right to dessert (because everyone knows the pies there are the best).

I stifled a yawn, proceeded to the kitchen, and started the coffeepot. The machine hummed to life, filling the air with the rich aroma of incoming caffeine. As I peeled a ripe banana, my world seemed perfect. Today was a day off and I planned on enjoying every moment by doing as little as possible.

As if on cue, my work comms link chimed, shattering the morning calm.

“Crap,” I muttered, eyeing the banana with regret. I wanted to ignore the message, pretend I hadn’t heard it—this was my scheduled and approved day off, and I had made sure Chief Thumbold had properly processed my request. But duty called. With a reluctant sigh, I tapped the link.

“Um… Flo…” It was Ned. My annoyance levels doubled.

“It’s early.” I didn’t bother to mask my irritation.

“I know you’re off…” Ned sounded very uncertain. I pictured him nervously rubbing his hands together.

I ran a hand through my hair, exhaling. “Just spit it out, Ned.”

“We just got a call from the harbour master’s office. They’re shutting down all arrivals for the day.”

“What?” My heart sank. My boys’ arrival would be delayed. “Why?”

“I don’t think I have the right words… you gotta see this to believe it. Meet me at the station.” Ned ended the call.

I sighed for a second time.

“Well, there goes my peaceful morning.” I set the banana down with a mournful look and braced myself for whatever oddity Ned had dredged up for me.

Less than ten minutes later, I stood in Chief Thumbold’s office. Already there, Ned was half-way through a spicy-cricket taco—I had no idea one could get them at this time of day. He had food, and I still hadn’t had my morning coffee. I should have stopped at the kiosk at the tram station.

“It’s my day off.” I crossed my arms over my chest and remained standing next to the door.

“Yes, yes, Flo, I’m aware,” Chief Thumbold replied with a tone that suggested ‘sorry, not sorry.’ “But, transport on and off this station is shut down until we get to the bottom of this.”

“Bottom of what?” I glanced over at Ned. He just shrugged as a bead of sauce dripped down his chin. I held back a sigh, and arched an eyebrow at the chief.

“Susan, play the live feed from the harbour master’s office,” Chief Thumbold said, his bushy eyebrows wiggling as he made the request to the AI.

Above his desk, the air shimmered, and a holographic scene unfolded. The station traffic control room was a vast, circular hub bustling with controllers and high-tech gear, usually as efficient as a mechanical watch. What I saw now was sheer bedlam.

I stepped around the couch for a clearer view. Ned shuffled beside me, his taco leaking onto the floor and his dark bangs falling into his eyes.

“What in the cosmos...?” I started.

People floated haphazardly throughout the room. Some grasped at furniture like it was a lifeline, while others zoomed across the room like human pinballs. Some even looked like they were having fun.

“Seems gravity took a coffee break.” Ned licked his fingers, then brushed his hair out of his face (I tried not to think about the cricket juice he’d just transferred to his hair).

“Susan, status report on the gravity field in that sector,” I said, staring up at the speaker in the ceiling.

“It is operating at 98.6% efficiency,” Susan’s voice chimed in, tinged with her usual AI-snark. That virtual assistant might be as irksome as Ned.

“So why’s everyone playing zero-g tag if gravity’s fine?” Ned asked.

“That, detectives, is the million-credit question.” Chief Thumbold crossed his arms over his chest. “Everything seems shipshape station-wise, so it’s on you two to figure out what’s going on.”

I exhaled heavy enough to restore gravity itself. Ned and I were detectives, not physicists. Worst of all, with the harbour master’s office in disarray and incoming ships in limbo, it looked like my boys’ homecoming would have to wait.

“I’m sure we’ll solve this quick, chief,” Ned said with a grin. “Cuz, Flo’s got plans for her day off.”

I snorted and walked out (I wanted to stomp on my way, but I didn’t want the label of a drama queen).

Ned and I took the tram to the nearest hub access. Somehow he’d snagged another taco, and I still hadn’t managed to get a coffee. I forced myself to focus on the case—that is gravity.

The original builders constructed Indigo Station as a massive wheel. Most of the inhabitants lived on the outer rim of the wheel, where rotation created reliable gravity (centrifugal force to be more specific, like my fifth-grade teacher always insisted).

However, the station’s industrial heart resided at the centre of the wheel. At the bottom, reactors worked to keep us in power. There were also back-up air filtration systems, back-up water tanks and even the station’s archives. Above the other administration offices, right at the top, sat the harbour master’s offices. A different gravity scheme ran here—old school gravity plating, the kind that sometimes broke down. Maybe Chief Thumbold should’ve just called maintenance (Yeah, I know, Susan said everything was working fine).

After passing the security check, Ned and I got into the elevator, its walls adorned with old posters of Indigo Station in its heyday—a reminder of the station’s once grand ambitions before the realities of dealing with a large human population coexisting set in. The elevator emitted a whir as it ferried us towards the central axis of our orbital home.

The close quarters forced Ned to crane his neck to stare up at me. “What do you think is going on?” he asked, his brow furrowed in that way that always made him appear more puzzled than he probably was.

While feeling the weight of missing out on my relaxed morning routine, I just shrugged. “I suspect this is a case more suited to station maintenance than to us.” I paused, my mind racing through scenarios, none of which included me enjoying a lazy breakfast or, at the very least, a cup of coffee.

Ned nodded, munching on the remnants of his taco (or a second, he seemed to materialize them out of thin air), a look of serious contemplation on his face. Or maybe it was just indigestion—with Ned, it was hard to tell.

The elevator dinged, announcing our arrival at the station’s central hub—the nerve centre of Indigo Station, where all the crucial behind-the-scenes actions happened, keeping the flow of shipping traffic smooth.

The control room door whooshed open, exposing a scene reminiscent of a bad sci-fi novel. Staff floated in a chaotic dance, their expressions a mix of bewilderment and mild amusement. Worst of all, no one was paying any attention to the workstations.

Despite Susan’s assessment of the gravity plating, my station born instincts kicked in and I activated my magnetic boots, anchoring myself firmly to the ground—just in case. I scanned the room, trying to unravel this gravity-defying puzzle. Perhaps Susan was wrong. I’m sure in at least one alternate universe that was a possibility.

“Looks like the team’s taking ‘elevating their work’ to a whole new level,” Ned joked. I glanced at his shoes—they weren’t magnetic like mine.

“Very funny, Ned,” I responded dryly, focusing on the scene. “But something’s not right here. Gravity’s fine everywhere else. Why is it off only here?”

I watched a staff member struggle to reach a floating coffee mug that seemed covered in icing. Ned plucked it from the air and handed it back with a grin. “Service with a smile,” he quipped.

Repressing a groan, I moved deeper into the room, dodging people and flotsam. It took me a few moments to figure out which workstation displayed local diagnostics. Pretending I knew exactly what I was doing, I scrolled through the gravity control panel for signs of tampering or malfunction. All around me, the room continued its chaotic dance, a blend of low-gravity acrobatics and confusion.

Ned peered over my shoulder at the screen so close I smelled his last snack. “Spot anything good?”

“Not yet,” I replied without looking his way. I turned towards a cluster of drifting staff members. “When did this start?”

A young woman with a floating ponytail replied, “Shortly after the morning shift change. We thought the gravity systems glitched at first.”

“But it didn’t.” I may not be a systems engineer, but I could decipher the gravity diagnostics enough to tell the readout was all in the green—and had been as far back as I scrolled.

The woman shook her head, and her ponytail took its own path. “We didn’t find a glitch.”

Ned, his eyes tracking a floating cinnamon bun, said, “Perhaps these have some kind of anti-gravity frosting.”

“That’s ridiculous.” I crossed my arms across my chest and gave him a look while doing my best to ignore the tempting scent of the baked goods. My current hunger was proving to be a distraction.

Ned shrugged, then cocked his head as if a new idea struck him. “If this floating problem spreads to the rest of the station, what then?”

That would be a level of chaos I wasn’t sure I could face without my morning coffee. “Let’s set that thought aside for now.”

“If this gravity issue was going to spread, it’s way too late now. People have been in and out of here since we started floating,” said a new voice.

I turned towards the speaker. He floated towards me, the bald spot on the top of his head glinting in the light. “And who are you?”

“Ben Fray, I’m the shift supervisor,” he said as he overshot us and bounced off the wall, making an indelicate thud. Ben grabbed onto his knees and started to rotate. A boyish expression of glee spread across his face, making him look much younger. “This is actually kinda fun.”

“Do you have any idea at all why this happened?” I was getting more and more frustrated by talking to these people—they didn’t seem to think what was going on was particularly dire. And the endless giggling was only making matters worse.

“It’s some sort of gravity problem, so talking to a physicist might make sense,” Ben said while continuing to rotate. “But don’t forget to grab a pastry before you go. My ex-wife brought them and they taste fantastic.” He pointed to an ordinary box sitting on the counter.

“Now that’s my kind of thing.” Ned opened the box and grabbed one with red goo and icing on top. “How about you?” He held the box out towards me.

“No, thanks.” That much sugar on an empty stomach wouldn’t do me any favours. “Let’s head to the university’s physics department and see if this is just some weird physics.”

Beside me, Ben grabbed a pastry and pushed off from the counter. He floated across the room, giggling like a six-year-old.

“Susan, find us someone at the university to talk to,” I said over the comms link to her before turning to Ned. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Sure thing, boss. Let’s go save the day.” He grinned at me and I turned away.

I let out a long exhale as I left the control room—this was going to be a long day.

to be continued…

If you just joined in, jump back to chapter 1 here.

Chapter 14

It took me much longer than I expected to get back to the entrance of the geode—I even had to stop and rest in the shelter for a few hours. It surprised me that no rescue party found me first. Even at the crater marking the way out, there was no one. Had Zeke made it? I swallowed at the thought that he might lay out there somewhere past the point of being rescued.

“Jill should have sent people in by now,” I said as I stared down the hole leading out.

After tying a rope, I used it to step down the crater’s walls to the ladder. Without incident, I climbed down and walked out of the geode. I decontaminated my suit at the airlock and removing my helmet, only then did I enter the control room.

“Where’s Jake?”

I jumped and spun around to see who’d spoken. Una Hamber sat at one workstation, staring at me. At the exit, one of her guards stood watch. My mouth became dry.

“Where’s Jill?” I countered.

Una smirked and stood. She paced over towards me, looming up well past my height (and I wasn’t short).

“Jill has been replaced. My security detail.” She gestured to the man lurking at the door. “Has taken over.”

“And Zeke?”

Una cocked her head. “He is being taken care of.” She took one more step closer to me. “Now, tell me…where is Jake?”

I shifted from foot to foot as I tried to come up with a description of where we’d gone that wouldn’t make me sound nuts.

Una returned to her seat, watching me all the while. “Did you find it?”

“What do you mean?” I asked. I really wanted to sit down, but I didn’t dare.

“Iris Wren, distinguished mineralogist, left speechless by the geode’s interior.” Una continued to stare at me.

I frowned. “There’s so much in there—and most of it doesn’t make sense.”

“Did you find evidence of my grandfather?”

I nodded. “Yes, he passed through the geode. We found this.” I pulled out the notebook and handed it to her.

Una flipped through the notebook as an uncomfortable silence fell over the room. “You found him.”

I didn’t say anything. Even if he had lived a full life on that alien world, he would have died of old age decades ago.

She held up the book, showing me a sketch of the city. “Where is this place?” Her pale eyes bore into me.

“There’s a portal at the centre of the geode. Your grandfather went through. Jake and I did too.” I licked my lips—I really needed something to drink. “Jake is going to explore further.”

Una nodded and closed the book. Keeping her gaze fixed on me, she took a deep breath. “I always suspected there was more to his disappearance.”

I mutely nodded.

“You will go with Omar.” She gestured towards the guard. “He’ll take you up to your apartment, where you can clean up. Then you are coming with me to HMC headquarters to answer more questions.”

“And then I’ll get the posting to New Venus?” I asked.

Una turned to the guard. “Omar, please take Dr. Wren away.”

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Chapter 13

I hit the water with a splash. For a moment, I flailed around, only to find the water shallow. On my hands and knees, I pushed myself out of the water. Gulping down my recirculated suit air, I looked around.

Water extended out until mist obscured the view. Above, more mist blocked out the sky. I squeezed my fingers into the sand and brought up a handful. It was the same grey as everything else. This wasn’t anything like the beach on New Haven.

“Where am I?” I asked myself.

“I don’t know, but the air’s good.” Jake stood on the beach a few metres away, and he’d taken his helmet off.

“Are you nuts!” I scrambled to my feet.

Jake shrugged. “My sensors said the air’s breathable.” He started stripping off his suit. “It’s so good to finally strip this off.”

I stalked right up to him. “Our sensors are calibrated for the atmosphere in the geode. Not for this.” I gestured to the misty view. “Place, wherever it is. Who knows what you’re breathing in?”

He waved me off with one hand. “I’m fine. And isn’t this place exciting?”

I turned and noticed a patch of hexagons floating about six metres off the water. Presumably, that’s where we’d come in. Wading forward, I approached it. Darkness cloaked the Structure’s interior; however, some features, such as the plinth and device, remained barely visible.

“How do we get up there?” I asked.

“We’ll probably find some supplies down there.”

I turned and looked at where Jake pointed. The sandbar extended deeper into the mist. If I squinted, I could make out a dark shape inside the mist. “Do you think that’s another structure?”

“Let’s go check it out.”

I frowned. I was done with Jake—I couldn’t wait for us to go our separate ways. But as he started walking down the beach, I followed.

Walking along the beach proved tougher than I’d expected. With each footstep, I sank into the yielding sand—not deep, but enough to make each step challenging to my already strained body. As I studied the shoreline, I concluded that tides of unknown range probably existed on this world. Piles of some sort of grass had been pushed up and deposited at the top of the beach. The decaying greenery seemed homogeneous, with blades longer than my height and as wide as my hand. It probably smelled, too, but my helmet protected me from that.

As we neared, the blurry shape sharpened into a small, human-made building—a humble hut. The roof, a thatch of coarse, sun-bleached grass, rustled faintly in the breeze. Three rough-hewn walls enclosed a meagre space. The fourth side held a low door, a partial wall for added shelter, and an open window. Its simple construction evoked a sense of isolation, a stark reminder of those old Earth tales of castaways on desolate islands. I did a quick check of the temperature, and it registered just above twenty-eight degrees—so marooned on a probable tropical island.

“This is interesting,” Jake said when we reached the building. A cracked-open door gave the hut an abandoned/haunted feel. I didn’t say anything.

Up close, it was clearly a crude structure, but it would have taken some time to build. Someone had settled in for a while. I checked my sensor readings. Jake was right that there was enough oxygen, plus none of the usual toxins—it might just be safe to breathe the air here. I looked at him. He seemed fine.

A slight breeze rippled the water and dispersed some of the mist. Up above, a single orb, just like the ones inside the geode, floated.

“Jake.” I pointed to it.

“So this is where they come from.” He shrugged. “Let’s check out the hut.”

“Sure,” I said. Even I was curious about what might be inside. I’d take a quick look, then figure out how to get back through the portal.

Once again, Jake took the lead. He didn’t hesitate to open the door.

I had to use my helmet light to see the interior, but there wasn’t much to see. A pile of leaves filled a corner—a just big enough pile for a human to sleep on. The floor was the same sand as the outside. The only other item was a large equipment case. I knelt down and opened it.

Jake knelt on the sand beside me. “Do you think this was Hamber’s?”

I didn’t answer. Instead, I removed a pulp paper journal from inside. The case had protected it. The pages were in pristine condition. I opened the front page. ‘Property of Syon Hamber’ was written on the inside cover.

“Wow,” Jake said and grabbed the notebook out of my hand. “We found where he went.”

I shone my light around the hut one more time to confirm his body wasn’t slumped in a corner. There was nothing.

“What was he eating here?” I asked.

Jake shrugged as he flipped through Hamber’s notes. I looked into the equipment case again, but there was nothing else—not even a hint remained of what equipment the case once contained. I bit my lip and stood.

“I think we should head back.” Was the laser cutter’s power supply all that kept that portal open? My mouth dried up. Is that what happened to Hamber? The portal closed, and he had no way to get back through. Did he live his life out on this sandbar? I headed back outside.

A gust of wind dispersed the mist. All at once, I could see the sky and dozens of animals floating above. There were the orbs of various sizes, but also animals propelled by something spinning, while another looked like a gigantic millepede undulating through the air.

I turned towards the ocean, then froze. Goosebumps rose along my skin, and all my aches and pains vanished as the current view pulled me into the moment. Another landmass was now visible.

“Jake, you need to come see this,” I said in a low tone.

Jake came out of the hut with a confused expression on his face. “I had hope to find—” His words cut out as soon as he spotted what was on the horizon.

Across the shimmering water, skyscrapers of translucent crystal pierced the azure sky, their facets catching the sun in a dazzling display. The air hummed with a faint, high-pitched whine, a subtle resonance from the crystalline structures. But this wasn’t a natural crystal formation. Someone with an urban planning frame of mind must have grown them. Intricate domes and arches linked the buildings, a breathtaking spectacle rivalling Earth’s finest architecture. The scene felt strangely both alien and familiar, a symphony of light and structure.

“Wow,” Jake said as he stopped beside me.

“Yeah, wow.” I studied the city looking for movement. But other than the floating animals above, the city appeared still.

Jake turned to me. “That’s where Hamber went next.”

“We have no proof of that.”

“Actually, we do.” Jake held up Hamber’s notebook. “At the end, he was sketching rafts out of the materials he found on this beach.” Jake gestured to the grass-like plants that had washed up.

I frowned. It didn’t look like the grass would ever have much structural integrity.

“He made a pretty nice hut. No doubt he could make a raft, too,” Jake said.

“Well, we have evidence to take back now. I’m sure Una will send in a second crew.” I glanced back to where the portal was and wondered again how much power there was.

Jake handed me the notebook. “I want you to keep this safe.”

I stashed Hamber’s book in one of my suit’s pockets.

“And I’ll help you get back through the portal.”

Cocking my head, I studied Jake’s face. “Aren’t you coming with me?”

“I want to go to the city. The second crew can catch up.”

I didn’t argue. Instead, I headed home alone.

to be continued…

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Chapter 12

I woke up alone in the emergency shelter. Yawning, I stretched my arms up over my head, releasing a cascade of pops from my spine. All my muscles hurt, and I didn’t like the idea of putting on my environmental suit yet again—but at least I’d be heading home.

“I’ll call Stella as soon as I’m home,” I vowed and hoped she would answer this time. I took a deep breath and thought of my little girl—I needed to patch things up with her. Moving to New Venus would be the right first step. Jake better make good on his promise of a posting there.

After a quick meal of a loosely raspberry-flavoured meal bar and instant coffee, I pulled on my suit and packed up our stuff. Once outside the shelter, I deflated it and stuffed the shelter back into its sack before strapping it to my back again.

“Jake?”

I approached the strange structure and touched it with my gloved hand. For a second, I thought I felt a shiver. Almost tripping, I backed up a few steps.

We were well away from the glowing orbs and crystals, so everything was quite dim on the platform. I switched on my helmet lights to examine the structure’s surface more closely.

It was rough; low-quality concrete came to mind. As I walked around, I noticed what appeared to be lichen growing on that surface. How old was this structure? Also, where did the lichen come from?

“There you are.”

I spun around to see Jake walking towards me. In his left hand, he held the laser cutter.

“I thought we were just doing a photo survey,” I said with my gaze fixed on the cutter.

He shrugged. “Why not go inside while we’re here?”

With my lips pressed together, I stared at him. Going inside had been his plan all along. I’d be pushing to start the new posting as soon as possible. I’d had enough of his nonsense.

“We are almost out of water. We need to start making our way back.” I licked my lips.

“We’ll take a quick look inside first.” He smiled, the kind of smile I used to trust. “It won’t take long.”

“Why are you so motivated to explore in here?” I asked.

Jake stopped, and I saw him cock his head behind his faceplate. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve gone well past the original parameters of our mission.” I pursed my lips.

Jake snorted, then sighed. “There’s another mission, one Una trusted me with personally.”

“What?” Honestly, this revelation didn’t come as a surprise.

“She didn’t want me to tell you and Zeke unless there was evidence.”

I crossed my arms over my chest and ground my teeth together. A secret mission explained all of Jake’s weird behaviour—it didn’t justify it, though. “Back-up and tell me about this secret mission.”

“Una wanted me to find some evidence about what happened to Syon Hamber,” Jake said.

“He died decades ago,” I said. “Probably in his bed on his ship.”

Jake shook his head. “No. Hamber truly vanished—just like the legends.”

I’d never really believed the HMC propaganda about the fate of their founder, and they never said exactly where he vanished from—although they strongly implied he’d been off exploring some part of the galaxy. “Did he really vanish here inside this geode?”

Jake nodded.

“And the HMC kept that quiet?” I asked.

“At first, the HMC’s board was afraid knowledge of old Syon’s risk-taking would scare away investors. Over time, they promulgated a vaguer story, one more epic, more legend-worthy.”

“He has a grave marker in the Purple Geode,” I said. I could picture running my fingers along the plaque—how its presence had freaked Stella out.

“It’s just a memorial,” Jake said. “Una approved this mission to give me a chance to search for evidence of what really happened to Syon. Her hunt for her grandfather is why our department even exists.”

“What?” There was so much to learn about the centre geode. My shoulders slumped forward as I realized Jake’s words were true. For all our effort over the years, we still hadn’t found out much about the geode—and it had never been the point.

“The board is pushing Una for results. They are starting to see our department as a liability.”

I let out a long exhale. I hadn’t expected this kind of deception to be going on right under my nose. “What’s in this for you?”

“Look.” Jake took a pace closer to me. “We all know monitoring sensors here on Hamber’s Hole is a dead-end job.”

I pursed my lips together and said nothing. I’d come here expecting scientific discovery, not this.

“Una offered me a position at HMC’s head office on Jupiter Station.”

“And what of Zeke and I?”

Jake turned away from me and shrugged. “Both of you were made offers worth taking.”

I looked out over the edge of the platform. The constant shroud of mist was all I could see.

“They are legit offers. HMC will follow through,” Jake said.

I licked my lips. Jake’s offer to me had been verbal—I’d been a fool for not getting it in writing.

“I’ll make sure you get that job on New Venus.”

I stared into Jake’s eyes.

“I promise,” he said.

“Fine.” I bit my lower lip and looked around. Only time would tell if he was telling me the truth or not. “We have no evidence Syon made it up to this platform.”

“We don’t have evidence he didn’t,” Jake said. “Besides, aren’t you curious about what’s inside? There could be some cool alien technology—or even walking talking aliens.”

Because of my helmet’s faceplate, I couldn’t run my hand across my face, as I wanted. “I can’t believe there’s a civilization’s worth of aliens inside that nugget.” I gestured at the Structure. “Doubly sealed at the centre of this asteroid.”

Jake shrugged. “I didn’t suggest they evolved here. Besides, even before the geode’s discovery, this asteroid possessed far more minerals than any other in this system. Something’s going on.”

I bit my lip. Jake had a point, and I had to admit that I was curious. I was also well aware my job on Hamber’s Hole was a dead end—I only took it in a grief-stricken gambit to get off of New Venus with Stella. I sighed.

“Fine, let’s look inside. Then we head back. Zeke will have a rescue team on their way by now.”

“Around this way.” He gestured for me to follow. “I found a spot where we can use the laser cutter on.” He turned and walked around the structure.

With my comms off, I let out a long sigh and then followed after him.

To be continued…