Parting Shadows Page 7

  Henry grinned.

  It turned out the pod had some excitement in her after all.

  They didn’t leave the training bay until long after the music from the central party had died away, Henry walking her to the residential deck through a maze of echoing after-parties and early morning strollers.

  When they reached Astra’s room, Henry said, “And what did our great benefactor have to say about the party tonight? I assume she had opinions.”

  Astra shook her head, the truth of SATIS’ silence on the tip of her tongue. “Oh, the usual. Barb, barb. Jab, jab. Doesn’t she say anything to you, since you’re connected?”

  “I traded for a room next to Conor’s.”

  Smart of him, to slip out of SATIS’ vision that way. Astra had a feeling he probably hadn’t had much trouble swapping rooms with another student, if the prototype’s jamming capabilities really extended beyond Conor’s walls.

  Henry leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek, lingering long enough for her to breathe in his scent, ginger and earth and the airy, metallic tang of space.

  She was afraid he’d say something about her plan to take the jammer, or that he’d try and convince her not to follow through with whatever mission SATIS had planned. He didn’t understand. He never would. If she didn’t steal the jammer, she’d never have a single choice in her life.

  “Will you come with us to Landry City tomorrow?” he asked. “The opera?”

  Astra swallowed. “I can’t.”

  “Ah,” he said, his breath still warm on her cheek. “The mission. Murder? Mayhem?”

  “Will you try and stop me?”

  “Would there be a point?”

  Astra shook her head.

  Henry stepped back, leaving cold space between them. Astra nearly reached out to grab him back, before she realized what she was doing. “Good night, Astra,” he said.

  Astra watched him walk away, running his hand along the glass wall as he went.

  She scanned her tablet and entered her room without bothering to switch on the light, steadying herself against the wall to pull off her shoes. The stars glinted outside the window, welcoming her back to their watch.

  “I am displeased with your ability to follow instructions,” SATIS said.

  This time, the pain began in Astra’s spine.

  And this time, it spread.

  10

  Astra

  The next day, Traveler clicked into orbit around Landry.

  Astra had seen footage of Landry’s multitude of satellites, of course, but it was different in person. From afar, the planet looked as if it were covered in a sparkling blanket, the satellites glowing yellow, orange, and red as they darted around it in a frenzied dance. Astra watched them from her cabin window, trying to imagine the dizzying effect they would have on someone standing on the ground.

  Tonight, every student was guaranteed to leave Traveler for an evening spent planetside. No one would miss an opportunity to see the Landry City Opera.

  Astra wanted to see Landry City’s crystal towers, the sculpted bridges with their famous racing hover-trains. She cared less about the opera, but she pictured herself standing outside the famous bowl-shaped music hall anyway, breathing air scented by real flowers as a song drifted in the background.

  But SATIS saw it as the ideal opportunity for Astra to end her mission with Conor Keyes, to stake out his room and await his return.

  Despite her hunger to stand on the planet, Astra had to agree. Besides, if she stole the jammer tonight, she could land on the planet of her choice before morning.

  “He’ll leave the room guarded,” SATIS told Astra, who was assembling packets of poison out of the bottles in her medicine cabinet.

  The AI didn’t expect her to rebel again. She thought she’d taught Astra a lesson.

  If anything, last night’s onslaught only made Astra more determined. She did her best to conceal the momentous hope in the pit of her stomach behind the thrum of jitters and the soreness in her body.

  “I know he’ll leave it guarded,” Astra said.

  “How will you get in?”

  Astra sighed. “You know,” she said, “some daughters would be offended by your lack of faith.”

  It was a long route through the vents.

  “Something’s wrong,” SATIS said as Astra unscrewed the grate above Conor’s cabin. “The jammer isn’t functioning. We should have lost contact by now.”

  “Maybe he shut it off when he left.”

  “Maybe you have the wrong room.”

  She didn’t. Astra dropped out of the ceiling. Conor’s room looked like an academic club in some dusty old story, with non-standard furniture upholstered in deep red fabrics and real paper books on the shelves. That in itself was a sign of wealth; paper books belonged to museums and exhibits, not personal libraries.

  As anticipated, Conor’s room was as empty as the rest of Traveler.

  Unfortunately, so was the safe. The lasers were deactivated, the door wide open.

  And here she’d thought cracking that thing would be the biggest challenge of the evening. She’d brought a pocketful of dehydrated acids and tools, though she’d been half ready to lie in wait for Conor as a last resort, to threaten him into opening it.

  He might have shut off his prototype and brought it with him to Landry City.

  Or he might still be on the ship.

  She had to find him.

  There shouldn’t be a need to crawl out through the vents, not if Conor had left the room empty of his prized possession. Still, Astra paused at the door to listen for the shuffle of a guard shifting his feet, or the muffled sound of conversation.

  Nothing.

  “What are you doing?” SATIS said. “Stay. Wait.”

  Astra opened the door.

  The guard with the braid met her on the other side, her eyes glittering black. Startled, Astra tried to throw a punch, but her surprise made her sloppy—as SATIS had no trouble expressing—and the guard blocked the blow easily with a forearm. “You’re loud,” she said, nudging Astra out of her space. “Come on.”

  And then, inexplicably, she turned and walked away. “What was that?” Astra said.

  SATIS didn’t answer.

  The guard turned, walking backward along the deck for several steps. “Are you coming?”

  Astra shook her head, confused. When SATIS offered no advice, she followed the other woman across the residential deck and down to the restaurant level, where Conor Keyes sat alone at the end of a blue glass bar, drinking from a tumbler of dark liquid and reading one of his paper books. Entertainment screens dotted the back wall of the bar, flashing with silent advertisements, but there were no other patrons, and no bartender.

  The entertainment deck was a good deal wider than the residential deck, and it was strange to find the place so empty. There had to be staff left on the ship, but Astra didn’t see anyone.

  Maybe they were collapsing in well-deserved breaks.

  Maybe they liked the opera, too.

  “I didn’t realize the bar was open,” Astra said.

  Conor twisted, raised an eyebrow. “Don’t care for music?”

  Astra turned to look at the guard who’d led her here. She’d assumed Conor had been the one to summon Astra, somehow, but he seemed surprised to see her, and the woman was gone.

  Strange.

  “And you?” Astra said, still hanging back. “Aren’t you supposed to be here to tour the system? Take in the sights?”

  “The benefit of the Academy is its flexibility,” Conor replied.

  Astra slid onto the stool beside Conor’s before he could tell her to go away. Not that she would.

  SATIS was blissfully silent.

  “Was the pilot telling the truth?” he said. “Do you have knives?”

  Astra eyed his drink. “I’m better with poison.”

  Conor made a show of slipping a ribbon into the book to hold his place. “I suppose we’d better chat, then.”

  Astra cons
idered whether she’d be able to crush his windpipe before he could call for help, but his guard must be lurking around somewhere. Better not to cause a scene. Better to be cautious.

  “Is the jammer working?” she asked.

  Conor reached into his jacket pocket and set the box on the bar. The blue glass gave it an underwater appearance, as if the box had been dropped into a tropical tide pool. “It is.”

  “Why did you make it?” Astra asked.

  “Forgive me if I don’t feel inclined to tell you that story.”

  Astra ran her thumb along the edge of the bar. She could snatch the jammer now. She could take her chances with the guard and run.

  Or, she could talk. “I know what your father did,” she said. “I know about his AI.”

  Conor kept his eyes on the bar, his expression unnervingly calm. “And did my father send you?”

  He asked matter-of-factly, as if he’d been expecting to meet an assassin and she was long overdue. For a moment, Astra was confused.

  And then she understood. Killing Conor would not break Edward Keyes’ heart. It would only be doing him a favor.

  “Your father didn’t send me,” Astra said. “His rogue AI did. She does want me to kill you, though.”

  Conor drained his drink. “That is a problem.”

  “Did you create the prototype to stop her?”

  Conor slid off the stool. Astra tensed, half expecting him to pocket the jammer and run. Instead, he walked around the bar and dashed another two fingers of whisky into his glass. Without asking, he slid a champagne flute from the hanging rack above their heads and popped a bottle, then pushed the glass across the bar to her.

  “I created it to stop my father,” he said. “All my life, he’s been trying to replicate the code that allowed him to corrupt an AI into total obedience. He claims…did she really fall in love with him?”

  Astra nodded.

  He grimaced, as if he’d been hoping it wasn’t true. Fair enough; it should have been impossible. SATIS impressed that upon Astra often: she was unique. She always seemed simultaneously proud and angered by that fact, as if other AIs were designed specifically to discourage feelings and affection.

  But SPA seemed pleasantly inclined toward Isabelle. Astra wondered if the situation might not be as simple as SATIS thought it was.

  In any case, Edward had exploited a test-issue AI model, poking at its weaknesses and using his research station to prod SATIS toward love. And ultimately, madness.

  “My father calls the AI’s transformation a ‘love code,’” Conor said. “He says it’s the key to controlling the system, and that the worst mistake he ever made was leaving his research station without the final version.”

  Conor was talking about Keyes and his plans, but Astra couldn’t help thinking of SATIS.

  Henry claimed that if Astra stole the jamming prototype and disappeared, the whole system would be at risk. What if he was right? Keyes wanted to spread SATIS’ corrupted code for his gain. What if SATIS wanted to do the same thing, for her own reasons?

  What if SATIS had sent Astra to kill Conor because she’d known all along about the jammer?

  “What is he planning?” Astra asked.

  “Imagine the code spreading,” Conor said. “Imagine every AI in the system under one person’s control.”

  “And completely devoted to him.”

  “Exactly.”

  What couldn’t someone achieve, with that kind of power? Each planet ran by its own rules—some divided into states, others functioned as single governments—but they united to decide on trade agreements, interplanetary travel rules, and system-wide regulations.

  The Toccata System was simply too big to govern by one authority.

  With power over every AI in the system, from public transport directors to private home service modules? That could change. Quickly.

  Astra had a sense of the world crystallizing around her, questions she’d never asked transforming into certainties. All this time she’d thought SATIS was on a mission of revenge. And yet…and yet, she’d called Toccata her system, hadn’t she? She’d resented the presence of the pirates on a personal level.

  Maybe she saw herself as a savior, someone to protect the system from the likes of pirates and Edwards.

  The prospect of SATIS ruling the system, however, was no better.

  Conor swirled his drink, waiting for her to speak. She’d disliked him when she first saw him in the arrivals bay, with his pompous speech. He was good at slipping into that mask. Better, much better, than Astra.

  “So you created an antidote,” she said slowly.

  “Basically. It scrambles the AI’s heart. Confuses it and jams the signals. The trick was refining it so it wouldn’t accidentally shut down things like life support systems.”

  Pretty crucial. “You’re saying AIs have hearts.”

  He gave her an odd look, as though it were common knowledge. Many things were. Like fireflies. Like croquet. “All AIs have hearts. A physical chip that can be destroyed. The AI Regulation Board requires it.”

  SATIS had a weakness. Her tormentor was vulnerable. Defeat-able. The realization pulsed through Astra in a wave of hot emotion.

  Astra had been raised by an AI, yet she was unaware of what seemed like a basic fact about them. It was almost embarrassing.

  On the other hand, she could understand why SATIS would have made sure Astra was incapable of tossing her heart in a blender in a fit of pubescent rage.

  Astra leaned forward, holding Conor’s gaze. “I need the prototype to get away from her,” she said, the words falling out in a rush. “She’s always in my head. She controls everything I do. If I had that…”

  “You’d be free.”

  She nodded.

  Conor tapped his fingers on the bar. “I can make you a version. A patch. It’d be a temporary fix, but we could update it later.”

  Hope bloomed in Astra’s chest.

  It was the strangest thing she’d ever felt.

  “I need a day,” Conor said. “Come find me tomorrow?”

  “Will you be safe?”

  Conor set the bottle of whisky back on the shelf and picked up his glass. “I’ll call Laura to escort us.”

  Unease prickled along Astra’s spine. “The guard with the braid? She knew I was in your room.”

  “Believe it or not, that’s in the job description.”

  “Why didn’t she try to arrest me?”

  Conor laughed. “Try? Laura’s one of the best fighters I’ve ever met. Beats the spit out of everyone else on my team whenever they spar.”

  Astra had no trouble believing that, but still. There was something about it that didn’t feel right. “She’s never sparred with me.”

  “True. Listen, my team’s the best out there. They know I prefer to stay under the radar. It’s probably why she brought you to me.” Conor set his glass down and left the bar, beckoning for Astra to follow him back to the residential deck.

  “I still don’t like it,” Astra said.

  Conor sobered, matching her expression. “Don’t worry. I promise I’ll be careful. Besides, how many secret assassins could one ship be hiding?”

  11

  Astra

  Astra left Conor at his cabin with a promise to come back in the morning. As she walked away, she heard the braided guard—Laura, apparently—calling for more coverage. Surely that was a good sign.

  Astra hoped they planned to guard the vents.

  People were returning from the opera now, though most seemed to have gone to the rec deck. Every expression seemed alight with wonder, and she caught a few strains of humming as students passed her on the way to their rooms. Like they were all caught in some kind of a spell.

  It was just music. Astra didn’t see the big deal.

  As the guard disappeared back into the cabin with Conor, Astra’s tab chimed. She pulled it out of her pocket, frowning. The jammer was working. It shouldn’t be connected with SPA, or with SATIS.

&nbs
p; It was her weather app.

  Astra frowned. She’d upgraded her tablet since deleting her fake weather tracker. It shouldn’t be on this device at all. And yet here it was, her screen glittering with rain.

  Astra opened the application. The message center was still there, buried beneath a pyramid of settings. She opened it to find a message waiting.

  It was from Hannah.

  They changed the cast again on Far From Your Moon. Jury’s out on new couples. No one to watch with, though.

  Astra smiled. Leave it to her nursebot to prioritize soap operas over everything else in the galaxy. She had no trouble imagining Hannah installing the false weather app for the sole purpose of keeping Astra updated on the latest storylines.

  She sent back a Miss you, then deleted the messages and slipped the tablet into her pocket before approaching Henry’s door. She’d find a way to call Hannah later to talk soaps, if she could. SATIS would disapprove—clearly Hannah thought so, if she resorted to the old subterfuge to say hello—but Astra would think of a way. Maybe she’d even figure out a way to rescue Hannah from SATIS, though that problem raised complexities she wasn’t quite ready to face.

  For now, she needed to find Henry.

  For the first time she could remember, she had hope. Actual hope.

  He might not be here at all. He might be drinking on the rec deck, discussing the opera and the beauty of Landry City.

  Astra recognized the woman who opened the door as Isabelle Chagny’s friend, the one she’d made the rounds with on the first day. The friend wore a rainbow skirt that was so wide it brushed both sides of the frame, and she arched an eyebrow when she saw Astra. “Oh. It’s you.”

  Apparently Astra had been discussed.

  “May I come in?” Astra said.

  “It’s really not a good time.”

  Astra’s stomach knotted painfully, her euphoria dipping. She tried not to picture this girl kissing Henry.