Chapter 24

Chapter Twenty-Four
As Connor walked from the engineering area to the bridge, he couldn’t shake the image of the vertical crack in the coolant pipe. It was nothing compared to the other crazy things that had gone on in the last few weeks—starting with Dr. Litvinenko’s death—but still seemed odd.
Once through the bridge hatch, he realized the compartment was empty except for Martienne. That wasn’t shocking, since the threat was apparently resolved, and she and Yemi didn’t get along.
The consoles showed a pleasant green or at least nothing worse than amber for all systems, and it was quiet except for the pilot’s soft, off-tune humming.
Connor grabbed the backpack Toshiko had given him, caught the gentle reminder of her scent coming off of it, then leaned against the back of his seat to swap out his sneakers for the shoes he’d taken off the unconscious Splinter assassin.
Even though his back was tender from the launch, it felt great to be out of someone else’s shoes and back in what amounted to normal. Connor had enough room for him to wiggle his poor toes now.
But the moment brought up another odd thing: the bombing of the Cave.
Why? What had that accomplished? Connor wasn’t there. What was the point?
He stuffed the other man’s shoes into the backpack, and Martienne turned from her console with a scowl. “The reactor is fixed?”
“All good. How’d you two get us out of trouble?”
“The way I always get us out of trouble—brilliant piloting.” Some things would never change, including Martienne’s sunny personality and modesty.
“Well, um, great job.”
Instead of a reply, the pilot hunched over her console. It was how she dismissed people, the unspoken message never in doubt: Get off my bridge.
That’s exactly what Connor did.
He took the ladder down to the lower deck and headed for the galley. The garlicky tang of kimchi drew him up short. That meant the Moon twins were having lunch.
Connor put a smile on and headed into the small dining area, waving at the people gathered there: Tom and Tim Moon sitting in their preferred corner table across from the entry, as expected; Selen, who was chatting with them; and Kalpana Garga, the team’s sniper and scout, sitting alone at the farthest table, her back to the others.
While the Moon twins nodded at Connor, Selen didn’t meet his gaze.
Kalpana was absorbed in something playing on her pocket computer, which was propped up on its inbuilt stand. Bright white earbuds poked out of her long, dark brown hair.
During field operations, she wore her hair in a tight bun. Now it was combed out and over her shoulders, almost reaching the top of her tan camouflage cargo shorts. Her loose-fitting, bright yellow T-shirt had a frowning sun image and a large block of text that told the reader to “Boil in the heat.” The color of the text shifted from a bright white to black to the same warm brown as her skin, giving the illusion of seeing through to the person beneath.
Except, Connor thought, no one would ever be able to see the real Kalpana.
Her eyes didn’t budge from the computer screen when he took the seat across from her.
He tried not to look at Selen. “Did you have a good time in Sang?”
The sniper’s long nose wrinkled as she sighed. She pulled her earbuds out. “What?”
“I was curious how your trip into Sang went. Have fun?”
“Loads.”
“Good. I’m happy for you.”
“Nice bag.”
He glanced down at the gift from Toshiko. “Thanks.”
“Yeah.” Kalpana brushed her hair aside, revealing ears that—while small—poked out from her head and pushed one of the buds back into place.
“I’m glad you made it back before we launched.”
Her shoulders rose just enough to signal a shrug. “Comes with the job.”
“Sure, but I think we would’ve preferred everyone have a little more relaxed rest time.”
“I got what I needed.”
He smiled but caught his attention drifting too Selen. She was probably doing the same with the Moon twins as he was with Kalpana: briefing them on what little they knew about the Mosiah job and maybe apologizing for the curtailed shore leave.
The brothers seemed to take it all in with the same stoicism as Kalpana. Their emerald eyes—genetically tweaked some years ago—showed no emotion, and their fluorescent orange and red hair was still fashioned like rising flames.
Of course, they weren’t really twins, despite looking remarkably alike from a distance. They weren’t even really brothers. They were clones, the only survivors from a rejected batch created for Moon Kil-Choo, one of the most powerful Talon Sector oligarchs to replace his lost son Moon Chung-hee. The selected clone apparently looked the most like Chung-hee.
Although slated for disposal, the Moon twins snuck out of the cloning facility. To avoid the people sent to kill them, they had to stay on the move, going from city to city under identities they somehow stole.
Now, their lives outside of the team missions were focused on one thing: watching the slow-motion train wreck of their favored brother Chung-hee.
That was probably what they’d spent their off hours in Sang doing.
Kalpana raised the second earbud toward her ear but froze. “That it?”
Connor straightened in his seat, embarrassed. Had she said something? “Um?”
“You just worried I didn’t get my toes curled?”
“Oh—” He blushed. “—I—”
“I did. I’m good.”
There was a lot to admire about the woman’s frankness, even if it was just another front to hide whoever she really was. She was as open about her physical needs as any man Connor had ever met, but she revealed nothing about her emotions. It seemed a dangerous thing, but she showed no signed of mental illness other than the occasional stress when things truly fell apart.
So she was human, at least.
Connor knew better than to try to connect with her, but he had a professional obligation to keep her briefed. “We’ve got a job.”
“Just like the recall alert said.”
“Right. No details yet. We’ll let you know when we have anything.”
“Great.” Her voice was flat, emotionless.
At the same moment, the Moon twins had set down their forks and pushed away their bowls. They had limits to their calm demeanor, which was a little reassuring. Connor was still feeling anxious about all the unknowns and Selen’s veiled hints about their client. Sitting across from Kalpana made him feel even more useless, as if he was some overly emotional teenager all over again.
He laughed awkwardly. “You mind if I ask you a question?”
Kalpana’s narrowed eyes warned him that he was on thin ice.
Connor squirmed. “Nothing personal. I was curious if you’d gone through special training to keep your cool so well. I mean, I knew—worked for—a guy who never showed fear, but I know he felt it.”
As before, the woman’s shoulders came up in the most minimal shrug imaginable. “What’s worrying do? Solve anything?”
“No. I guess not.”
“Do your job. Keep yourself alive. That’s all there is.”
Her words were cold and selfish, and the tone was deadpan and serious. There was no doubting that she meant what she said.
Selen rose, made a point of not looking his way, then exited the galley.
Connor pushed up from his chair and waved at Kalpana. She put the second earbud back into place.
She was just one mystery among hundreds facing him at the moment. The difference with her was that his life and the fate of his team didn’t seem to be at stake because of her closed nature.
He wished the same were true about Selen.