Page 41 of Reformation
“I told you I would fix it. Five times.You’rethe one who said explorers don’t use Regen.”
“They don’t.” Yvaine folded her arms stubbornly across her chest. “And they don’t take showers either.”
“Little explorers inthisfamily do if they want a story before bed.”
Yvaine’s mouth dropped open. “I have to have a story. Ihaveto!”
“Then you better get in the shower, my dear.” Claudia waited while her daughter mulled that over in her mind, then finally—reluctantly—acquiesced.
“Fine. But when Daddy gets back,no more showers.I’m having bathsforever.” She flounced off in the direction of the bathroom, and Claudia straightened up with a sigh and looked over at her friend and bodyguard, Thérèse Tousaint.
“I’m sure you’re happy you got babysitting duty with me instead of following Miles now, aren’t you?”
“Considering where he’s going? Yes, I rather am,” Thérèse replied with a smile. “Besides, if you think your husband isn’t on babysitting duty with hundreds of cadets under his direct command, then you’re dreaming. I’ll go make sure she’s actually getting in the shower if you want to check on Renee?”
“Thank you.” Claudia found her older daughter in the living room of the bungalow they were currently living in. It was on the outskirts of a low-G tubular colony that projected from the surface of Kyres, a Central System planet—barely. It was a place billed as selling gentle, rehabilitative space to those suffering from transition illness or gravity sickness, conditions that were more mental than physical and untreatable by Regen. It was comparatively rural but also moderately defensible, and it was bustling enough that Thérèse expected they’d be largely ignored.
Renee didn’t really seem to miss the crowds of Olympus, that much was clear. She was self-directed enough that leavingschool had been as easy as anything, for her. Right now she was staring out the window and making notes on the glass screen.
“What are you looking at?” Claudia asked as she joined her daughter.
“See that ship right there?” Renee pointed at a decent-sized shuttle on the other side of the Ring Twelve. “It’s violating the timing clause.”
“How long has it been there?”
“Ten minutes! And the rules say that you can only leave your ship attached for personal loading and unloading, not to exceed five minutes, because cargo is supposed to go through the ground docks.” Renee frowned. “It’s going to mess up the incoming traffic.”
“Hmm. What makes you so interested in it?”
“I’m doing a traffic census for my statistics class. I loaded my program into the visual computer system for our windows and set coded it to count all the makes and models and times, but when it throws up an outlier, it alerts me. That ship”—she pointed again—“is an outlier.”
Claudia was prepared to tell her daughter that sometimes allowances were necessary in life, but when she glanced at the ship again, she noticed that none of the dock’s lights were flashing. Everything surrounding the shuttle was inert, standard green, like the ship itself wasn’t even there. Like it hadn’t even docked. Only there it was, and—
Claudia was moving before her thoughts could catch up with her, pulling Renee away from the window and turning off all the lights inside with a breathless command. The whole house went dark except for the emergency lights.
“Mom, what—”
“It’s just a precaution,” Claudia said before calling out, “Thérèse!”
She came out of the bathroom a moment later, holding Yvaine all wrapped up in a robe on her hip. “What’s wrong?”
“There’s a ghost ship out there.”
Thérèse’s expression went stony. “Where?”
“Straight across from us.”
“The Vacarra’s place. They’re away right now, but anything docked there should still have to follow protocol.”
“No acknowledgment by the docking mechanism itself even though the lights are working. It’s been there over twice the usual allotted time too.”
Thérèse nodded once. “Get to the pod.”
Claudia’s blood chilled. “Are you sure?”
“We’re not taking any chances. Get to the pod now. Two minutes, go,go.” She handed Yvaine, who was thankfully quiet, to Claudia before darting for the front door. Claudia took a deep breath, then turned toward her room, leading both her daughters along with her. She pushed the bed back into the wall, then pressed her hand to the center of the floor.
“Emergency Protocol Ninety-Nine, initiate.”
