Page 46 of Scion

Her gaze flicks from a mournful glance again at the holo, to me. Studying me. “You don’t seem too bothered.”

“I’m certainly annoyed.”

“Azure, love. They cloned you. You should be more than annoyed.”

I stare at the hand on the table. “I mean, I am really annoyed.”

“Wow. Are we sure you’re not the clone?”

I glare at her. “Dick thing to say out loud, Verity.”

She gives me a delicate shrug. “Dick thing to destroy my business and nearly get me killed and make me a fugitive from the most deadly organisation on the planet, but okay.”

“Ugh. You still on about that?” I give her the smallest of smiles to indicate that yeah, maybe the scales aren’t quite balanced, and then sigh. “I’ve got all my memories, which I can’t imagine are easy to just stick in a clone’s head. I’m actively working against the Keres, which feels like a lot more free will than they’d probably want from a Dupe. But the kicker is that what came after us just before… it’s stronger than me. Stronger than I’ve ever been.” I emphasise the last with vaguely horrified introspection, as I consider what it managed to do. “My guess? I almost died a few years ago and when that happened, they started looking at backups. They couldn’t risk wasting my compatibility with… I have genetic compatibilities,” I finish, realising Verity won’t have a clue about my revs, and likely won’t want to know.

This has to be the truth about Oceanus that Jasa’s file is going to reveal. Why she asked for me, specifically, too. She somehow knew the Keres were going to send a Dupe of me to kill her, so she did the only thing that might give her a chance.

Damn. I get that file, I get proof of what the Keres have been doing. The whole corp is in direct violation of Ten-O-Ten, and probably a dozen other DeGov mandates.

I can stop this.

“Azure?”

There’s something in her voice that makes my heart sink. I look up to see her gazing at Jasa’s prone form on the couch. Verity moves over and crouches, placing a slender finger against the wrinkled form’s throat.

She waits a long few seconds, then looks over at me and shakes her head.

WELL THAT’S UNFORTUNATE TIMING,” I mutter as I stand, confirming that Jasa de Alwes is, in fact, very much dead.

“Azure.” Verity’s voice is reprimanding.

“Well, it is.” Some part of me knows I should probably show more regret in her passing beyond the fact that now, I can’t get to the damned file. That would be the polite thing. The “socially acceptable” thing. And I do feel bad. Bad, and angry, and frustrated, and, sure—maybe it’s not entirely because of the file. But now, she’s gone, and I’m still here, and I’m even more screwed than when she was here. So: unfortunate. I tap my finger against her rapidly cooling forehead absently. “Change of plans, Verity. I need to get out somewhere else.”

“Where?”

“It’s not far.” I snatch up the control pad before she can protest, and punch in the new coordinates. “You can just drop us, and get out of Themis.”

“Us?” She frowns at our new destination. Doesn’t recognise it, naturally.

“Seems unfair to make you clean up.”

Verity’s mouth twists, and there’s only the sound of the wind whistling through the hole in the wall as the drone banks for a second time. “I spoke to her a little, you know. In the Cold Room. She seemed alright.” A pause and then, “She liked you.”

“She didn’t know me, Verity. We weren’t friends; she was a client. An annoying client. Who I met only a few days ago.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” Verity gazes at me. “Even if I thought that were true, she knew you well enough to guess why you knew about Sanctum. Which if you ask me, is pretty well.”

“What do you mean?” I frown. “What did you tell her?”

“Nothing—you know I would never—but she knew. Knew straight away why you’d been there before. What you’d been there for.” Verity hesitates, then pulls something from her pocket and presses it into my hand. “She had me get this for you, before everything happened. No charge, Azure. For old times’ sake.”

I wait for her hand to leave mine, and then unwrap my fingers from around the vial. Clear liquid with a smoky black infusion drifting through it. I almost toss it away, then and there, despite the ludicrous amount it costs.

But I don’t, and a few moments later our container wobbles and then thuds to a halt.

I tuck the bottle away to deal with later, and peer out the hole at the outside world. We’re on a rooftop container dock, so our arrival shouldn’t have aroused any interest, and sure enough, I can’t see any movement out there.

“Give me your wallet details.”