“I didn’t figure,” he said.
Later, when she crossed back over to the Falcon, Naomi would keep that look in mind. They had come a long way—both together and apart—since they’d been babies on the Canterbury. It was easy for her to think that life had beaten the idealism and joy out of them. She felt ground down to the nerve endings more often than she didn’t. And Jim seemed . . . not tired, exactly, but all used up. Like his fuel tank was empty and he was just trying to coast gracefully to the finish line. But even so, now and then she saw him still in there. Behind the dark-rimmed pale eyes, under the graying hair, the same reckless, holy fool she’d noticed when Captain McDowell brought him on board. Time and use had changed them, but it hadn’t changed what they were. There was joy in that. A promise.
She found Elvi alone in the lab. The apparatus of the dive— paired medical couches, scanners, and sensor arrays—were on the float with her. Here and there, a few cords had come loose from their fittings and floated in the subtle breeze. Elvi herself moved from one console to the next, bringing up logs and data-files, checking connections and power levels. The atrophy of her muscles left her looking frailer than Naomi pictured her. There was a haunted look in her eyes.
“What are you working on?” Naomi asked instead of saying hello.
“Nothing in particular,” Elvi said. “It’s just . . . I had a roommate when I went to university who used to do needlepoint. He wasn’t great at it, but it gave his hands something to do while he thought. When he was stuck on a problem and couldn’t see any way out—” She gestured at the empty lab. There was something bleak in the gesture. “I’m doing needlepoint. Have you ever done something you knew was wrong, but you told yourself that this time it was justified? That just this once, the rules didn’t apply? Or if they did, there was a grander cause that made it okay?”
“You just described most of the last decade of my life,” Naomi said.
“I don’t know how I move forward with this protocol.”
Is something wrong? hovered in the back of Naomi’s mouth. It was only the ridiculous obviousness of the answer that changed it to “I’ve finished all my messages. They’re ready to send.”
“All right,” Elvi said. “I’ll clear your access to the comms.”
“It’s not going to be that easy,” Naomi said. “You say the relays are safe. I believe you. But . . .”
“You think Trejo will find out.”
“I know he will. When I send this, it’s going to twenty people in sixteen systems. They’re going to tell their networks. And it’s going to be the most important thing anyone has seen. This will leak. It will leak the minute I send it out, and I can’t stop that from happening.”
Elvi took one end of a floating cable in her hand, considered it, and plugged it into a slot in the medical couch where Amos had been for the dive. For a moment, Naomi felt like there were three of them in the room. Elvi and her, but also the empty space where Winston Duarte had appeared to be. It was only air now, but it had significance. The empire, the underground, and the man who would be God. Three sides of the coin.
“We have to get help,” Elvi said. “I’ve been trying to do this by myself. I can’t. I’m not even sure I trust my judgment anymore. Duarte’s plan will affect everyone. Everywhere. I don’t even know that I can make a moral case against sending messages out. Even if it means Trejo orders Dr. Lee to shoot me in the head.”
“That seems like an extreme call.”
“It’s Laconia. They do shit like that all the time.”
“Well, I have another thought,” Naomi said. “But I wanted to talk to you about it first.”
“Admiral Trejo,” Naomi said, dead-eyeing the camera, “I accept your proposal and the amnesty you offered to the underground. I am sending copies of your original broadcast in Freehold and this response for dissemination within my organization. Once my people see that local Laconian forces are abiding by your word, all action against Laconian personnel and assets will end, and we can start working on our more pressing issues.
“To that end, I am including files, debriefings, and interviews around a recent experiment which I think you’ll agree is both interesting and alarming.”
Naomi steadied herself. She felt like there should be more to say, that this was one of those moments that history books leaned on. The acceptance speech that ended the war between Laconia and the remnants of the Transport Union. She’d had thoughts and intentions, things she’d meant to say, but now that she was in the moment, they all seemed ponderous and artificial.