Page 157 of Alien Burn

“I was counting on it.”

She was still smiling when exhaustion finally caught her. Dhomhes helped her to bed, turned down the lamp, and began to straighten.

She caught his hand.

“Here.”

“I'll be in the chair.”

“That's not here.”

He looked at the place beside her, then at her face. She moved over.

He lay down on top of the cover, close enough for her to rest her head against his shoulder. For a while she listened to his breathing and the distant machinery. Once his comm stirred against his wrist. He checked it, answered with a few touches, and put his arm back around her.

“Still here?” she whispered.

“Still here.”

She slept before she could ask again.

24

DHOMHES

He woke with a cramp in his shoulder and Sereya's hand tucked beneath his chin.

For several seconds he couldn't remember the last time he'd slept long enough to acquire a cramp.

Then his comm pulsed against the mattress.

He eased himself out from under her hand. She frowned in her sleep, found the pillow he'd been using, and pulled it closer. He watched until her face relaxed before going to the door.

His lead waited outside.

“The two from the holding block were caught at the vehicle gate. The cart had a second set of uniforms inside. They were going out as transport crew.”

“Roemary's observer?”

“Hit at the junction outside the guest wing. He got a warning out before they cut the circuit.”

“The injured guards?”

“All alive. One fracture. Two still being monitored after the stun charges.”

“Their families informed?”

“Yes.”

“And the guest corridor?”

“Backup lighting and communications are restored. They cut a local junction. The entry record puts the cart inside before our transport landed, under a forged maintenance order from a freight contract office. They hid in a covered vehicle-repair pit beneath it. The current deck plan doesn't show the pit. The search team cleared the bay and signed it off without lifting those covers.”

Dhomhes leaned against the doorframe. His suspension had closed the entrance behind them. The search he had ordered had passed above their heads. He could picture those flush floor plates beneath the cart, easy to mistake for the rest of the deck if no one knew to look below them.

“Get the old workshop plans out. Match them to what's actually there. No covered pits or closed compartments signed off from a drawing.”

“Every pending order from that office stays suspended. Have the actual supervisors sign their own crews back in. In person.”