Nemesis Games

Three hours later, they were in the medical bay on Tycho Station proper. The room was sealed off, four guards posted outside and all network connections to the suite physically disabled. Three other beds sat empty, the patients, if there were any, rerouted to other places. It was half recovery room, half protective custody, and Holden could only wonder if Monica understood how much of that security was just theater.

“That wasn’t fun,” Monica said.

“I know,” Holden said. “You’ve been through a lot.”

“I have.” The words were slushy, like she was drunk, but her eyes had the sharpness and focus Holden was used to seeing in them.

Fred, standing at the foot of the bed, crossed his arms. “I’m sorry, Monica, but I’m going to have to ask you some questions.”

Her smile reached her eyes. “Usually goes the other way.”

“Yes, but I usually don’t answer. I’m hoping you will.”

She took a deep breath. “Okay. What do you have?”

“Why don’t we start with how you wound up in that container,” Fred said.

Her shrug looked sore and painful. “Not much to tell there. I was in my quarters and the door opened. Two guys came in. I sent an emergency alert to security, screamed a lot, and tried to get away from them. But then they sprayed something in my face and I blacked out.”

“The door opened,” Fred said. “You didn’t answer it?”

“No.”

Fred’s expression didn’t change, but Holden had the sense of growing weight in the angle of his shoulders. “Go on.”

“I came to when they were loading me into the crash couch. I couldn’t move much,” Monica went on, “but I managed to turn my camera rig on.”

“Did you hear anyone speaking?”

“Did,” she said. “They were Belters. That’s what you’re getting at, isn’t it?”

“It’s one thing. Can you tell me what they said?”

“They called me some unpleasant names,” Monica said. “There was something about a trigger. I couldn’t follow all of it.”

“Belter creole can be hard to follow.”

“And I’d been drugged and assaulted,” Monica said, her voice growing hard. Fred lifted his hands, placating.

“No offense meant,” he said. “Do you remember anything specific that —”

“This is about the missing colony ships, isn’t it?”

“It’s early to say what this is ‘about,’ ” Fred said, and then, grudgingly, “but that’s certainly one possibility.”

“The OPA’s doing it, then. Only you didn’t know about it.”

“I’m not confirming or denying anything, just at the moment.”

“Then neither am I,” Monica said, crossing her arms.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Holden said. “Come on, you two. We’re all on the same side here, right?”

“Not without terms,” Monica said.

Fred’s jaw went tight. “We just saved your life.”

“Thanks for that,” Monica said. “I’m included in the investigation. All of it. Exclusive interviews with both of you. I’ll give you everything I have about the colony ships and my abduction. Even the parts I didn’t tell Holden. And fair warning before I go public with any of this.”

“Wait a minute,” Holden said. “There were parts you didn’t tell me?”

“Final approval before anything sees air,” Fred said.

“Not a chance,” Monica said. “And you need me.”

“Final approval exclusively for issues of security and safety,” Fred said. “And two weeks lead time.”

Monica’s eyes were bright and hungry. Holden had traveled with her for weeks going out to the Ring the first time, and he felt like he knew her. The ruthlessness in her expression was surprising. Fred only seemed amused by it.

“One week lead time, and nothing unreasonably withheld,” she said and pointed an accusing finger at Fred. “I’m trusting you on that.”

Fred looked to Holden, his smile thin and unamused. “Well, now I’ve got two people I know aren’t working for the other side.”

The thing Holden hadn’t known— No, that wasn’t true. The thing Holden had known, but hadn’t appreciated, was the number of ships moving through the rings and out to the vast spread of new planets. Monica’s full logs tracked the almost five hundred ships that had made the transit. Many were smaller even than the Rocinante, traveling together in groups to make a claim on a new and unknown world or else to join newly founded steadings on places with names like Paris and New Mars and Firdaws. Other ships were larger – true colony ships loaded with the same kinds of supplies that, generations before, humanity had taken out to Luna, Mars, and the Jovian moons.

The first one to vanish had been the Sigyn. She’d been a converted water hauler a little newer than the Canterbury. Then the Highland Swing, a tiny rock hopper that had been nearly gutted to put in an Epstein drive with three times the power a ship like that could ever have used. The Rabia Balkhi that she’d shown him had the best footage of its transit, but it wasn’t the first or the last to disappear. As he went through, he made note of the types and profiles of all the missing ships to forward on to Alex. The Pau Kant could be any of them.