Leviathan Wakes
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Captivity on the Scopuli
- Julie Mao is held captive in a cramped storage locker for eight days after her ship, the Scopuli, is boarded.
- She endures extreme physical hardship, including dehydration and the psychological toll of total isolation and silence.
- To survive, Julie scavenges stale water and a catheter bag from an old environment suit stored with her.
- Driven by desperation and the muffled sounds of her crew being tortured, she eventually attempts to alert her captors.
The Scopuli had been taken eight days ago, and Julie Mao was finally ready to be shot.
Leviathan W akes
by James S.A. Corey
Book 1 of The Expanse
The Expanse
01: Leviathan W akes
02: Calibanâ s War
03: Abaddonâ s Gate
04: Cibola Burn
05: Nemesis Games
Short Stories
Drive
The Butcher of Anderson Station
The Churn
Gods of Risk
Dedication
For Jayne and Kat, who encourage me to daydream about spaceships.
Acknowledgments
Like most children, this book took a village. I would like to express my
deep gratitude to my agents, Shawna and Danny , and to my editors
DongW on and Darren. Also instrumental in the early formation of the book
were Melinda, Emily , Terry, Ian, Geor ge, Steve, Walter, and Victor, of the
New Mexico Critical Mass writers group, and also Carrie, who read an
early draft. An additional thank s goes to Ian, who helped with some of the
math, and who is responsible for none of the mistakes I made understanding
it. I also owe an enormous debt to Tom, Sake Mike, Non-Sake Mike, Porter ,
Scott, Raja, Jeff, Mark, Dan, and Joe. Thanks, guys, for doing the beta
testing. And finally , a special thanks to the Futurama writers and Bender
Bending Rodriguez for babysitting the kid while I wrote.
Prologue
Julie
The Scopuli had been taken eight days ago, and Julie Mao was finally ready
to be shot.
It had taken all eight days trapp ed in a storage locker for her to get to
that point. For the first two sheâd remained motionless, sure that the
armored men whoâd put her there had been serious. For the first hours, the
ship sheâd been taken aboard wasnâ t under thrust, so she floated in the
locker , using gentle touches to keep herself from bumping into the walls or
the atmosphere suit she shared the space with. When the ship began to
move, thrust giving her weight, sheâd stood silently until her legs cramped,
then sat down slowly into a fetal position. Sheâd peed in her jumpsuit, not
caring about the warm itchy wetness, or the smell, worrying only that she
might slip and fall in the wet spot it left on the floor . She couldnât make
noise. Theyâd shoot her .
On the third day, thirst had force d her into action. The noise of the ship
was all around her. The faint subsonic rumble of the reactor and drive. The
constant hiss and thud of hydraulics and steel bolts as the pressure doors
between decks opened and closed. The clump of heavy boots walking on
metal decking. She waited until all the noise she could hear sounded distant,
then pulled the environment suit off its hooks and onto the locker floor .
Listening for any approaching sound, she slowly disassembled the suit and
took out the water supply . It was old and stale; the suit obvio usly hadnâ t
been used or serviced in ages. But she hadnâ t had a sip in two days, and the
warm loamy water in the suitâs reservoir bag was the best thing she had
ever tasted. She had to work hard not to gulp it down and make herself
vomit.
When the urge to urinate returned, she pulled the catheter bag out of
the suit and relieved herself into it. She sat on the floor , now cushioned by
the padded suit and almost comfortable, and wondered who her captors
wereâCoalition Navy , pirates, something worse. Sometimes she slept.
On day four, isolation, hunger , boredom, and the diminishing number of
places to store her piss finally pushed her to make contact with them. Sheâd
heard muffled cries of pain. Somewhere nearby , her shipmates were being
beaten or tortur ed. If she got the attention of the kidnappers, maybe they
would just take her to the others. That was okay . Beatings, she could
handle. It seemed like a small price to pay if it meant seeing people again.
The locker sat beside the inner airlock door. During flight, that usually
wasnâ t a high-traf fic area, though she didnâ t know anything abou t the layout
of this particular ship. She thought about what to say, how to present
herself. When she finally heard someone moving toward her, she just tried
to yell that she wanted out. The dry rasp that came out of her throat
Silence in the Airlock
- Julie Mao considers revealing herself to her captors, willing to endure physical abuse just to end her isolation.
- Her plan is halted when she overhears her ship's mechanic, Dave, begging for his life before being executed via the airlock.
- The narrative reveals that despite the crew's attempts to scrub sensitive OPA data, the invaders bypassed all protocols and seized the ship with brutal efficiency.
- After days of captivity and physical struggle, Julie realizes the ship has gone silent, the drive has stopped, and she is seemingly alone in the drifting vessel.
Hydraulics and locking bolts clicked as the inner airlock door opened. A meaty thud as something was thrown inside.
beaten or tortur ed. If she got the attention of the kidnappers, maybe they
would just take her to the others. That was okay . Beatings, she could
handle. It seemed like a small price to pay if it meant seeing people again.
The locker sat beside the inner airlock door. During flight, that usually
wasnâ t a high-traf fic area, though she didnâ t know anything abou t the layout
of this particular ship. She thought about what to say, how to present
herself. When she finally heard someone moving toward her, she just tried
to yell that she wanted out. The dry rasp that came out of her throat
surprised her. She swallowed, working her tongue to try to create some
saliva, and tried again. Another faint rattle in the throat.
The people were right outside her locker door. A voice was talking
quietly . Julie had pulled back a fist to bang on the door when she heard
what it was saying.
No. Please no. Please donâ t.
Dave. Her shipâ s mechanic. Dave, who collected clips from old
cartoons and knew a million jokes, begging in a small broken voice.
No, please no, please donâ t, he said.
Hydraulics and locking bolts clicked as the inner airlock door opened.
A meaty thud as something was thrown inside. Another click as the airlock
closed. A hiss of evacuating air .
When the airlock cycle had finished, the people outside her door
walked away . She didnâ t bang to get their attention.
Theyâd scrubbed the ship. Detainment by the inner planets navie s was a bad
scenario, but theyâd all trained on how to deal with it. Sensitive OPA data
was scrubbed and overwritten with innocuous-looking logs with false time
stamps. Anythin g too sensitive to trust to a computer , the captain destroyed.
When the attackers came aboard, they could play innocent.
It hadnâ t mattered.
There werenâ t the questions about cargo or permits. The invaders had
come in like they owned the place, and Captain Darren had rolled over like
a dog. Everyone elseâMike, Dave, Wan Liâtheyâd all just thrown up their
hands and gone along quietly . The pirates or slavers or whatever they were
had dragged them off the little transport ship that had been her home, and
down a docking tube without even minimal environment suits. The tubeâ s
thin layer of Mylar was the only thing between them and hard nothing: hope
it didnâ t rip; goodbye lungs if it did.
Julie had gone along too, but then the bastards had tried to lay their
hands on her , strip her clothes of f.
Five years of low-gravity jui jitsu training and them in a confined
space with no gravity . Sheâd done a lot of damage. Sheâd almost started to
think she might win when from nowhere a gauntleted fist smashed into her
face. Things got fuzzy after that. Then the locker , and Shoot her if she
makes a noise. Four days of not making noise while they beat her friends
down below and then threw one of them out an airlock.
After six days, everything went quiet.
Shifting between bouts of consciousness and fragmented dreams, she
was only vaguely aware as the sounds of walking, talking, and pressure
doors and the subsonic rumble of the reactor and the drive faded away a
little at a time. When the drive stopped, so did gravity , and Julie woke from
a dream of racing her old pinnace to find herself floating while her muscles
screamed in protest and then slowly relaxed.
She pulled herself to the door and pressed her ear to the cold metal.
Panic shot through her until she caught the quiet sound of the air recyclers.
The ship still had power and air, but the drive wasnâ t on and no one was
opening a door or walking or talking. Maybe it was a crew meeting. Or a
party on another deck. Or everyone was in engineering, fixing a serious
The Silent Ship
- Julie wakes in a storage locker to find the ship's drive has stopped and gravity has vanished.
- After eight days of isolation and dehydration, she manages to kick her way out of her confinement.
- She explores the vessel only to find it completely abandoned, with signs of a struggle in the commissary.
- The engineering deck is sealed from the inside, surrounded by blood and tools, suggesting a violent event began there.
Julie shot from the locker, hands half raised and ready to look either threatening or terrified, depending on which seemed more useful.
doors and the subsonic rumble of the reactor and the drive faded away a
little at a time. When the drive stopped, so did gravity , and Julie woke from
a dream of racing her old pinnace to find herself floating while her muscles
screamed in protest and then slowly relaxed.
She pulled herself to the door and pressed her ear to the cold metal.
Panic shot through her until she caught the quiet sound of the air recyclers.
The ship still had power and air, but the drive wasnâ t on and no one was
opening a door or walking or talking. Maybe it was a crew meeting. Or a
party on another deck. Or everyone was in engineering, fixing a serious
problem.
She spent a day listening and waiting.
By day seven, her last sip of water was gone. No one on the ship had
moved within range of her hearing for twenty-four hours. She sucked on a
plastic tab sheâd ripped off the environment suit until she work ed up some
saliva; then she started yelling. She yelled herself hoarse.
No one came.
By day eight, she was ready to be shot. Sheâd been out of water for
two days, and her waste bag had been full for four. She put her shoulders
against the back wall of the locker and planted her hands against the side
walls. Then she kicked out with both legs as hard as she could. The cramps
that followed the first kick almost made her pass out. She screamed instead.
Stupid girl, she told herself . She was dehydrated. Eight days without
activity was more than enough to start atrophy . At least she should have
stretched out.
She massaged her stiff muscl es until the knots were gone , then
stretched, focusing her mind like she was back in dojo. When she was in
control of her body, she kicked again. And again. And again, until light
started to show through the edges of the locker . And again, until the door
was so bent that the three hinge s and the locking bolt were the only points
of contact between it and the frame.
And one last time, so that it bent far enough that the bolt was no longer
seated in the hasp and the door swung free.
Julie shot from the locker , hands half raised and ready to look either
threatening or terrified, depending on which seemed more useful.
There was no one on the whole deck level: the airlock, the suit storage
room where sheâd spent the last eight days, a half dozen other storage
rooms. All empty . She plucked a magnetized pipe wrench of suitable size
for skull cracking out of an EVA kit, then went down the crew ladder to the
deck below .
And then the one below that, and then the one below that. Personnel
cabins in crisp, almost military order . Commissary , where there were signs
of a struggle. Medical bay, empty . Torpedo bay. No one. The comm station
was unmanned, powered down, and locked. The few sensor logs that still
streamed showe d no sign of the Scopuli. A new dread knotted her gut. Deck
after deck and room after room empty of life. Something had happened. A
radiation leak. Poison in the air. Something that had forced an evacuation.
She wondered if sheâd be able to fly the ship by herself.
But if theyâd evacuated, sheâd have heard them going out the airlock,
wouldnâ t she?
She reached the final deck hatch, the one that led into engineerin g, and
stopped when the hatch didnâ t open automatically . A red light on the lock
panel showed that the room had been sealed from the inside. She thought
again about radiation and major failures. But if either of those was the case,
why lock the door from the inside? And she had passed wall panel after
wall panel. None of them had been flashing warnings of any kind. No, not
radiation, something else.
There was more disruption here. Blood. Tools and containers in
disarray . Whatev er had happened, it had happened here. No, it had started
here. And it had eneded behind that locked door .
It took two hours with a torch and prying tools from the machine shop
to cut through the hatch to engineering. With the hydraulics compromised,
The Horror in Engineering
- Julie Mao discovers a horrifying biological growth consuming the ship's fusion reactor, which appears to be made of living flesh.
- The remains of the crew have been assimilated into this organic mass, with Captain Darren's head still capable of pleading for help.
- The narrative shifts to Jim Holden on the Canterbury, a massive ice hauler that provides essential water to the millions living in the Belt.
- The invention of the Epstein Drive is credited with opening the solar system to human colonization, despite the inventor's tragic fate.
- The Canterbury, once a colony ship, now serves as a commercial vessel in the PurânâKleen Water Company fleet.
The mud caked around the reactor had structure to it like nothing sheâd seen before. Tubes ran through it like veins or airways. Parts of it pulsed. Not mud, then. Flesh.
wouldnâ t she?
She reached the final deck hatch, the one that led into engineerin g, and
stopped when the hatch didnâ t open automatically . A red light on the lock
panel showed that the room had been sealed from the inside. She thought
again about radiation and major failures. But if either of those was the case,
why lock the door from the inside? And she had passed wall panel after
wall panel. None of them had been flashing warnings of any kind. No, not
radiation, something else.
There was more disruption here. Blood. Tools and containers in
disarray . Whatev er had happened, it had happened here. No, it had started
here. And it had eneded behind that locked door .
It took two hours with a torch and prying tools from the machine shop
to cut through the hatch to engineering. With the hydraulics compromised,
she had to crank it open by hand. A gust of warm wet air blew out, carrying
a hospit al scent without the antiseptic. A coppery , nauseating smell. The
torture chamber , then. Her friends would be inside, beaten or cut to pieces.
Julie hefted her wrench and prepared to bust open at least one head before
they killed her . She floated down.
The engineering deck was huge, vaulted like a cathedral. The fusion
reactor dominated the central space. Something was wrong with it. Where
she expected to see readouts, shielding, and monitors, a layer of something
like mud seemed to flow over the reactor core. Slowly , Julie floated toward
it, one hand still on the ladder . The strange smell became overpowering.
The mud caked around the reactor had structure to it like nothin g sheâd
seen before. Tubes ran through it like veins or airways. Parts of it pulsed.
Not mud, then.
Flesh.
An outcropping of the thing shifted toward her. Compared to the
whole, it seemed no larger than a toe, a little finger . It was Capta in Darrenâ s
head.
âHelp me,â it said.
Chapter One
Holden
A hundred and fifty years before, when the parochial disagreements
between Earth and Mars had been on the verge of war, the Belt had been a
far horiz on of tremendous mine ral wealth beyond viable economic reach,
and the outer planets had been beyond even the most unrealistic corporate
dream. Then Solomon Epstein had built his little modified fusion drive,
popped it on the back of his three-man yacht, and turned it on. With a good
scope, you could still see his ship going at a marginal percentage of the
speed of light, heading out into the big empty . The best, longest funeral in
the history of mankind. Fortunately , heâd left the plans on his home
computer . The Epstein Drive hadnâ t given humanity the stars, but it had
delivered the planets.
Three-quarters of a kilometer long, a quarter of a kilometer wideâ
roughly shaped like a fire hydrantâand mostly empty space inside, the
Canterbury was a retooled colony transport . Once, it had been packed with
people, supplies, schematics, machines, environment bubbles, and hope.
Just under twen ty million people lived on the moons of Saturn now. The
Canterbury had hauled nearly a million of their ancestors there. Forty-five
million on the moons of Jupiter. One moon of Uranus sported five
thousand, the farthest outpost of human civilization, at least until the
Mormons finished their generation ship and headed for the stars and
freedom from procreation restrictions.
And then there was the Belt.
If you asked OPA recruiters when they were drunk and feeling
expansive, they might say there were a hundred million in the Belt. Ask an
inner planet census taker , it was nearer to fifty million. Any way you
looked, the population was huge and needed a lot of water .
So now the Canterbury and her dozens of sister ships in the
PurânâKleen W ater Company made the loop from Saturnâ s generous rings to
the Belt and back hauling glaciers, and would until the ships aged into
salvage wrecks.
Jim Holden saw some poetry in that.
âHolden?â
He turned back to the hangar deck. Chief Engineer Naomi Nagata
Life on the Canterbury
- The Canterbury and its crew are part of a vital supply chain hauling ice from Saturn's rings to the water-starved population of the Belt.
- Executive Officer Jim Holden navigates the technical challenges of the ship while observing the distinct physical differences between Earth-born humans and long-limbed Belters.
- The crew deals with the harsh realities of space labor, including severe industrial injuries and the limitations of corporate medical insurance.
- A cultural divide is evident in the resentment Belters feel toward 'Inners' and their superior medical technology, preferring mechanical prosthetics over biological regrowth.
Iâd rather have a good Belter-built fake than anything those bastards grow in a lab. Just wearing their fancy arm probably turns you into an asshole.
expansive, they might say there were a hundred million in the Belt. Ask an
inner planet census taker , it was nearer to fifty million. Any way you
looked, the population was huge and needed a lot of water .
So now the Canterbury and her dozens of sister ships in the
PurânâKleen W ater Company made the loop from Saturnâ s generous rings to
the Belt and back hauling glaciers, and would until the ships aged into
salvage wrecks.
Jim Holden saw some poetry in that.
âHolden?â
He turned back to the hangar deck. Chief Engineer Naomi Nagata
towered over him. She stood almost two full meters tall, her mop of curly
hair tied back into a black tail, her expression halfway between amusement
and annoyance. She had the Belter habit of shrugging with her hands
instead of her shoulders.
âHolden, are you listening, or just staring out the window?â
âThere was a problem,â Holden said. âAnd because youâre really ,
really good, you can fix it even though you donât have enoug h money or
supplies.â
Naomi laughed.
âSo you werenâ t listening,â she said.
âNot really , no.â
âWell, you got the basics right anyhow . Knight âs landing gear isnât
going to be good in atmosphe re until I can get the seals replaced. That
going to be a problem?â
âIâll ask the old man,â Holden said. âBut whenâ s the last time we used
the shuttle in atmosphere?â
âNever , but regs say we need at least one atmo-capable shuttle.â
âHey , Boss!â Amos Burton, Naomiâ s earthborn assistant, yelled from
across the bay. He waved one meaty arm in their general direction. He
meant Naomi. Amos might be on Captain McDowellâ s ship; Holden might
be executive of ficer; but in Amos Burtonâ s world, only Naomi was boss.
âWhatâ s the matter?â Naomi shouted back.
âBad cable. Can you hold this little fucker in place while I get the
spare?â
Naomi looked at Holden, Are we done here? in her eyes. He snapped a
sarcastic salute and she snorted, shaking her head as she walked away , her
frame long and thin in her greasy coveralls.
Seven years in Earthâ s navy , five years working in space with civilians,
and heâd never gotten used to the long, thin, improbable bones of Belters. A
childhood spent in gravity shaped the way he saw things forever .
At the central lift, Holden held his finger briefly over the button for the
navigation deck , tempted by the prospect of Ade Tukunboâher smile, her
voice, the patchouli-and-vanilla scent she used in her hairâbut pressed the
button for the infirmary instead. Duty before pleasure.
Shed Garvey , the medical tech, was hunched over his lab table,
debriding the stump of Cameron Pajâs left arm, when Holden walked in. A
month earlier , Paj had gotten his elbow pinned by a thirty-ton block of ice
moving at five millimeters a second. It wasnâ t an uncommon injury among
people with the dangerous job of cutting and moving zero-g iceber gs, and
Paj was taking the whole thing with the fatalism of a professional. Holden
leaned over Shedâ s shoulder to watch as the tech plucked one of the medical
maggots out of dead tissue.
âWhatâ s the word?â Holden asked.
âItâs looking pretty good, sir,â Paj said. âIâve still got a few nerves.
Shedâ s been tellinâ me about how the prosthetic is gonna hook up to it.â
âAssuming we can keep the necrosis under control,â the medic said,
âand make sure Paj doesnâ t heal up too much before we get to Ceres. I
checked the policy , and Paj hereâ s been signed on long enough to get one
with force feedback, pressure and temperature sensors, fine-motor software.
The whole package. Itâll be almost as good as the real thing . The inner
planets have a new biogel that regrows the limb, but that isnât covered in
our medical plan.â
âFuck the Inner s, and fuck their magic Jell-O. Iâd rather have a good
Belter -built fake than anything those bastards grow in a lab. Just wearing
their fancy arm probably turns you into an asshole,â Paj said. Then he
added, âOh, uh, no of fense, XO.â
Prosthetics and Protocol
- Holden visits the medical bay to check on Paj, a crewman who lost a limb and is awaiting a high-tech prosthetic on Ceres.
- The crew expresses a cultural disdain for 'Inner' technology, preferring Belter-built mechanical fakes over biological regrowth gels.
- Shed, the medic, uses maggots to manage Paj's infection while they wait for the prosthetic bond to be possible.
- Holden attempts to initiate a romantic encounter with Ade, the navigator, highlighting the casual but complicated social dynamics aboard the Canterbury.
Fuck the Inners, and fuck their magic Jell-O. Iâd rather have a good Belter-built fake than anything those bastards grow in a lab.
âand make sure Paj doesnâ t heal up too much before we get to Ceres. I
checked the policy , and Paj hereâ s been signed on long enough to get one
with force feedback, pressure and temperature sensors, fine-motor software.
The whole package. Itâll be almost as good as the real thing . The inner
planets have a new biogel that regrows the limb, but that isnât covered in
our medical plan.â
âFuck the Inner s, and fuck their magic Jell-O. Iâd rather have a good
Belter -built fake than anything those bastards grow in a lab. Just wearing
their fancy arm probably turns you into an asshole,â Paj said. Then he
added, âOh, uh, no of fense, XO.â
âNone taken. Just glad weâre going to get you fixed up,â Holden said.
âTell him the other bit,â Paj said with a wicked grin. Shed blushed.
âIâve, ah, heard from other guys whoâve gotten them,â Shed said, not
meeting Holdenâ s eyes. âAppa rently thereâ s a period while youâre still
building identification with the prosthetic when whacking off feels just like
getting a hand job.â
Holden let the comment hang in the air for a second while Shed âs ears
turned crimson.
âGood to know ,â Holden said. âAnd the necrosis?â
âThereâ s some infection,â Shed said. âThe maggots are keeping it
under control, and the inflammationâ s actually a good thing in this context,
so weâre not fighting too hard unless it starts to spread.â
âIs he going to be ready for the next run?â Holden asked.
For the first time, Paj frowned.
âShit yes, Iâll be ready . Iâm always ready . This is what I do, sir.â
âProbably ,â Shed said. âDepending on how the bond takes. If not this
one, the one after .â
âFuck that,â Paj said. âI can buck ice one-handed better than half the
skags youâve got on this bitch.â
âAgain,â Holden said, suppressing a grin, âgood to know . Carry on.â
Paj snorted. Shed plucked another maggot free. Holden went back to
the lift, and this time he didnâ t hesitate.
The navigation station of the Canterbury didnât dress to impress. The
great wall-sized displays Holden had imagined when heâd first volunteered
for the navy did exist on capital ships but, even there, more as an artifact of
design than need. Ade sat at a pair of screens only slightly larger than a
hand terminal, graphs of the efficiency and output of the Canterbury âs
reactor and engine updating in the corners, raw logs spooling on the right as
the systems reported in. She wore thick headphones that covered her ears,
the faint thump of the bass line barely escaping. If the Canterbury sensed an
anomaly , it would alert her. If a system errored, it would alert her. If
Captain McDow ell left the comm and and control deck, it would alert her so
she could turn the music off and look busy when he arrived. Her petty
hedonism was only one of a thousand things that made Ade attractive to
Holden. He walked up behind her, pulled the headphones gently away from
her ears, and said, âHey .â
Ade smiled, tapped her screen, and dropped the headphones to rest
around her long slim neck like technical jewelry .
âExecutive Officer James Holden,â she said with an exaggerated
formality made even more acute by her thick Nigerian accent. âAnd what
can I do for you?â
âYou know , itâs funny you should ask that,â he said. âI was just
thinking how pleasant it would be to have someone come back to my cabin
when third shift takes over. Have a little romantic dinner of the same crap
theyâre serving in the galley . Listen to some music.â
âDrink a little wine,â she said. âBreak a little protocol. Pretty to think
about, but Iâm not up for sex tonight.â
âI wasnâ t talking about sex. A little food. Conversation.â
âI was talking about sex,â she said.
Holden knelt beside her chair . In the one-third g of their current thrust,
it was perfectly comfortable. Adeâs smile softened. The log spool chimed;
she glanced at it, tapped a release, and turned back to him.
âAde, I like you. I mean, I really enjoy your company ,â he said. âI
Protocol and Distress Signals
- Holden attempts to deepen his relationship with Ade, but she rebuffs his romantic advances, preferring to keep their connection casual and temporary.
- Ade challenges Holden's self-perception, suggesting he is too comfortable on the aging ice hauler despite his claims of wanting to leave.
- The conversation is interrupted by Captain McDowell, who summons Holden to the bridge to address a developing situation.
- The crew identifies a legitimate emergency signal from a nearby asteroid, making them the only ship in range to respond.
Rebecca Byers, the comm officer on duty, could have been bred from a shark and a hatchet.
theyâre serving in the galley . Listen to some music.â
âDrink a little wine,â she said. âBreak a little protocol. Pretty to think
about, but Iâm not up for sex tonight.â
âI wasnâ t talking about sex. A little food. Conversation.â
âI was talking about sex,â she said.
Holden knelt beside her chair . In the one-third g of their current thrust,
it was perfectly comfortable. Adeâs smile softened. The log spool chimed;
she glanced at it, tapped a release, and turned back to him.
âAde, I like you. I mean, I really enjoy your company ,â he said. âI
donât understand why we canât spend some time together with our clothes
on.â
âHolden. Sweetie. Stop it, okay?â
âStop what?â
âStop trying to turn me into your girlfriend. Youâre a nice guy. Youâve
got a cute butt, and youâre fun in the sack. Doesnâ t mean weâre engaged.â
Holden rocked back on his heels, feeling himself frown.
âAde. For this to work for me, it needs to be more than that.â
âBut it isnât,â she said, taking his hand. âItâs okay that it isnât. Youâre
the XO here, and Iâm a short -timer . Another run, maybe two, and Iâm
gone.â
âIâm not chained to this ship either .â
Her laughter was equal parts warmth and disbelief.
âHow long have you been on the Cant ?â
âFive years.â
âYouâre not going anyplace,â she said. âY ouâre comfortable here.â
âComfortable?â he said. âThe Cant âs a century-old ice hauler . You can
find a shittier flying job, but you have to try really hard. Everyone here is
either wildly under -qualified or seriously screwed things up at their last
gig.â
âAnd youâre comfortable here.â Her eyes were less kind now. She bit
her lip, looked down at the screen, looked up.
âI didnâ t deserve that,â he said.
âYou didnâ t,â she agreed. âLook, I told you I wasnâ t in the mood
tonight. Iâm feeling cranky . I need a good nightâ s sleep. Iâll be nicer
tomorrow .â
âPromise?â
âIâll even make you dinner . Apology accepted?â
He slipped forward, pressed his lips to hers. She kissed back, politely
at first and then with more warmth. Her fingers cupped his neck for a
moment, then pulled him away .
âYouâre entirely too good at that. You should go now,â she said. âOn
duty and all.â
âOkay ,â he said, and didnâ t turn to go.
âJim,â she said, and the shipwide comm system clicked on.
âHolden to the bridge,â Captain McDowell said, his voice comp ressed
and echoing. Holden replied with something obscene. Ade laughed. He
swooped in, kissed her cheek, and headed back for the central lift, quietly
hoping that Captain McDowell suffered boils and public humiliation for his
lousy timing.
The bridge was hardly larger than Holdenâ s quarters and smaller by
half than the galley . Except for the slightly oversized captainâ s display ,
required by Captain McDowellâ s failing eyesight and general distrust of
corrective surgery, it could have been an accounting firmâ s back room. The
air smelled of cleaning astringent and someoneâ s overly strong yerba matĂŠ
tea. McD owell shifted in his seat as Holden approached. Then the captain
leaned back, pointing over his shoulder at the communications station.
âBecca!â McDowell snapped. âT ell him.â
Rebecca Byers, the comm officer on duty, could have been bred from a
shark and a hatchet. Black eyes, sharp features, lips so thin they might as
well not have existed. The story on board was that sheâd taken the job to
escape prosecution for killing an ex-husband. Holden liked her .
âEmer gency signal,â she said. âPicked it up two hours ago. The
transponder verification just bounced back from Callisto. Itâs real.â
âAh,â Holden said. And then: âShit. Are we the closest?â
âOnly ship in a few million klicks.â
âWell. That figures,â Holden said.
Becca turned her gaze to the captain. McDowell cracked his knuckles
and stared at his display . The light from the screen gave him an odd
greenish cast.
âItâs next to a charted non-Belt asteroid,â McDowell said.
âReally?â Holden said in disbelief. âDid they run into it? Thereâ s
The Duty of the Void
- The crew of the ice hauler Canterbury detects a legitimate emergency signal near a charted asteroid, compelling them by law to respond.
- Responding to the signal requires a massive logistical sacrifice, including a high-G 'burn like hell' that will damage the ship's hull and cargo.
- Captain McDowell and Executive Officer Holden engage in a calculated social performance to maintain crew respect while fulfilling their legal obligations.
- The physical toll of high-gravity maneuvers is highlighted as a significant danger for Belters who have never lived in a planetary gravity well.
The temptation to have an unexplained comm failure, erase the logs, and let the great god Darwin have his way was always there.
âEmer gency signal,â she said. âPicked it up two hours ago. The
transponder verification just bounced back from Callisto. Itâs real.â
âAh,â Holden said. And then: âShit. Are we the closest?â
âOnly ship in a few million klicks.â
âWell. That figures,â Holden said.
Becca turned her gaze to the captain. McDowell cracked his knuckles
and stared at his display . The light from the screen gave him an odd
greenish cast.
âItâs next to a charted non-Belt asteroid,â McDowell said.
âReally?â Holden said in disbelief. âDid they run into it? Thereâ s
nothing else out here for millions of kilometers.â
âMaybe they pulled over because someone had to go potty . All we
have is that some knucklehead is out there, blasting an emer gency signal,
and weâre the closest. AssumingâŚâ
The law of the solar system was unequivocal. In an environment as
hostile to life as space, the aid and goodwill of your fellow humans wasnâ t
optional. The emer gency signal, just by existing, obligated the nearest ship
to stop and render aidâwhich didnâ t mean the law was universally
followed.
The Canterbury was fully loaded. Well over a million tons of ice had
been gently accelerated for the past month. Just like the little glacier that
had crushed Pajâs arm, it was going to be hard to slow down. The
temptation to have an unexplain ed comm failure, erase the logs, and let the
great god Darwin have his way was always there.
But if McDowell had really intended that, he wouldnâ t have called
Holden up. Or made the suggestion where the crew could hear him. Holden
understood the dance. The captain was going to be the one who would have
blown it off except for Holden. The grunts would respect the captain for not
wanting to cut into the shipâ s profit. Theyâd respect Holden for insisting that
they follow the rule. No matte r what happened, the captain and Holden
would both be hated for what they were required by law and mere human
decency to do.
âWe have to stop,â Holden said. Then, gamely: âThere may be
salvage.â
McDowell tappe d his screen. Adeâ s voice came from the console, as
low and warm as if sheâd been in the room.
âCaptain?â
âI need numbers on stopping this crate,â he said.
âSir?â
âHow hard is it going to be to put us alongside CA-2216862?â
âWeâre stopping at an asteroid?â
âIâll tell you when youâve followed my order , Navigator T ukunbo.â
âYes, sir,â she said. Holden heard a series of clicks. âIf we flip the ship
right now and burn like hell for most of two days, I can get us within fifty
thousand kilometers, sir .â
âCan you define âburn like hellâ?â McDowell said.
âWeâll need everyone in crash couches.â
âOf course we will,â McDow ell sighed, and scratched his scruf fy
beard. âAnd shifting ice is only going to do a couple million bucksâ worth
of banging up the hull, if weâre lucky . Iâm getting old for this, Holden. I
really am.â
âYes, sir. You are. And Iâve always liked your chair ,â Holde n said.
McDowell scowled and made an obscene gesture. Rebecca snorted in
laughter . McDowell turned to her .
âSend a message to the beacon that weâre on our way. And let Ceres
know weâre going to be late. Holden, where does the Knight stand?â
âNo flying in atmosphere until we get some parts, but sheâll do fine for
fifty thousand klicks in vacuum.â
âYouâre sure of that?â
âNaomi said it. That makes it true.â
McDowell rose, unfolding to almost two and a quarter meters and
thinner than a teenager back on Earth. Between his age and never having
lived in a gravity well, the coming burn was likely to be hell on the old
man. Holden felt a pang of sympathy that he would never embarrass
McDowell by expressing.
âHereâ s the thing, Jim,â McDowell said, his voice quiet enough that
only Holden could hear him. âWeâre required to stop and make an attempt,
but we donâ t have to go out of our way , if you see what I mean.â
âWeâll already have stopped,â Holden said, and McDowell patted at
Distress Signals and Belter Slang
- Captain McDowell warns Holden to prioritize safety over heroism while investigating the distress call from the Scopuli.
- The crew of the Canterbury prepares for a difficult deceleration burn that will be physically taxing on the older Belter captain.
- Detective Miller investigates a violent incident on Ceres, using his deep understanding of Belter culture and dialect to gain information.
- The setting of Ceres is established as a gritty, low-gravity environment where residents live in cramped, repurposed spaces smelling of recycled yeast.
âAnd then it was all pow! Room full up with bladeboys howling and humping shank,â the girl said, waving a hand.
thinner than a teenager back on Earth. Between his age and never having
lived in a gravity well, the coming burn was likely to be hell on the old
man. Holden felt a pang of sympathy that he would never embarrass
McDowell by expressing.
âHereâ s the thing, Jim,â McDowell said, his voice quiet enough that
only Holden could hear him. âWeâre required to stop and make an attempt,
but we donâ t have to go out of our way , if you see what I mean.â
âWeâll already have stopped,â Holden said, and McDowell patted at
the air with his wide, spidery hands. One of the many Belter gestures that
had evolved to be visible when wearing an environment suit.
âI canât avoid that,â he said. âBut if you see anything out there that
seems of f, donâ t play hero again. Just pack up the toys and come home.â
âAnd leave it for the next ship that comes through?â
âAnd keep yourself safe,â McDowell said. âOrder . Understood?â
âUnderstood,â Holden said.
As the shipwide comm system clicked to life and McDowell began
explaining the situation to the crew , Holden imagined he could hear a
chorus of groans coming up through the decks. He went over to Rebecca.
âOkay ,â he said, âwhat have we got on the broken ship?â
âLight freighter . Martian registry . Shows Eros as home port. Calls
itself Scopuli âŚâ
Chapter T wo
Miller
Detective Miller sat back on the foam-core chair , smiling gentle
encouragement while he scrambled to make sense of the girlâ s story .
âAnd then it was all pow! Room full up with bladeboys howling and
humping shank, â the girl said, waving a hand. âLook like a dance number ,
âcept that Bomi eâs got this look he didnâ t know nothing never and ever
amen. Y ou know , que?â
Havelock, standing by the door, blinked twice. The squat manâ s face
twitched with impatience. It was why Havelock was never going to make
senior detective. And why he sucked at poker .
Miller was very good at poker .
âI totally ,â Miller said. His voice had taken on the twang of an inner
level resident. He waved his hand in the same lazy arc the girl used.
âBomie, he didnâ t see. For gotten arm.â
âForgotten fucking arm, yeah,â the girl said as if Miller had spoken a
line of gospel. Miller nodded, and the girl nodded back like they were two
birds doing a mating dance.
The rent hole was three cream-and-black-fleck-painted roomsâ
bathroom, kitch en, living room. The struts of a pull-down sleeping loft in
the living room had been broken and repaired so many times they didnâ t
retract anymore . This near the center of Ceresâ spin, that wasnâ t from
gravity so much as mass in motion. The air smelled beery with old protein
yeast and mushrooms. Local food, so whoever had bounced the girl hard
enough to break her bed hadnâ t paid enough for dinner . Or maybe they did,
and the girl had chosen to spend it on heroin or malta or MCK.
Her business, either way .
âFollow que?â Miller asked.
âBomie vacuate like losing air,â the girl said with a chuckle. âBang-
head hops, kennis tu?â
âKen,â Miller said.
âNow , all new bladeboys. Overhead. Iâm out.â
âAnd Bomie?â
The girlâs eyes made a slow track up Miller , shoes to knees to porkpie
hat. Miller chuckled. He gave the chair a light push, sloping up to his feet in
the low gravity .
âHe shows, and I asked, que si?â Miller said.
âComo no?â the girl said. Why not?
The tunnel outside was white where it wasnâ t grimy . Ten meters wide,
and gently sloping up in both directions. The white LED lights didnâ t
pretend to mimic sunlight. About half a kilometer down, someone had
The Deep Dig of Ceres
- Detectives Miller and Havelock navigate the low-gravity 'deep dig' tunnels of Ceres while investigating the disappearance of a low-level criminal named Bomie.
- The text highlights the cultural friction between Belters and 'outworlders' from Earth, illustrated by Miller's use of local patois to exclude his partner.
- Ceres is described as a massive industrial hub of six million people, sustained by a complex supply chain of resources from across the solar system.
- The investigation reveals that Bomie's disappearance followed a staged fight gone wrong, where he failed to play the hero and instead fled from local thugs.
Spinning it up to 0.3 g had taken the best minds at Tycho Manufacturing half a generation, and they were still pretty smug about it.
âNow , all new bladeboys. Overhead. Iâm out.â
âAnd Bomie?â
The girlâs eyes made a slow track up Miller , shoes to knees to porkpie
hat. Miller chuckled. He gave the chair a light push, sloping up to his feet in
the low gravity .
âHe shows, and I asked, que si?â Miller said.
âComo no?â the girl said. Why not?
The tunnel outside was white where it wasnâ t grimy . Ten meters wide,
and gently sloping up in both directions. The white LED lights didnâ t
pretend to mimic sunlight. About half a kilometer down, someone had
rammed into the wall so hard the native rock showed through, and it still
hadnâ t been repaired. Maybe it wouldnâ t be. This was the deep dig, way up
near the center of spin. T ourists never came here.
Havelock led the way to their cart, bouncing too high with every step.
He didnât come up to the low gravity levels very often, and it made him
awkward. Mille r had lived on Ceres his whole life, and truth to tell, the
Coriolis ef fect up this high could make him a little unsteady sometimes too.
âSo,â Havelock said as he punched in their destination code, âdid you
have fun?â
âDonâ t know what you mean,â Miller said.
The electrical motors hummed to life, and the cart lurched forward into
the tunnel, squishy foam tires faintly squeaking.
âHaving your outworld conversation in front of the Earth guy?â
Havelock said. âI couldnâ t follow even half of that.â
âThat wasnât Belters keeping the Earth guy out,â Miller said. âThat
was poor folks keeping the educated guy out. And it was kind of fun, now
you mention it.â
Havelock laughed. He could take being teased and keep on moving. It
was what made him good at team sports: soccer , basketball, politics.
Miller wasnâ t much good at those.
Ceres, the port city of the Belt and the outer planets, boasted two
hundred fifty kilometers in diameter , tens of thousands of kilometers of
tunnels in layer on layer on layer . Spinning it up to 0.3 g had taken the best
minds at Tycho Manufacturing half a generation, and they were still pretty
smug about it. Now Ceres had more than six million permanent residents,
and as many as a thousand ships docking in any given day meant upping the
population to as high as seven million.
Platinum, iron, and titanium from the Belt. Water from Saturn,
vegetables and beef from the big mirror -fed greenhouses on Ganymede and
Europa, organics from Earth and Mars. Power cells from Io, Helium-3 from
the refineries on Rhea and Iapetus. A river of wealth and power unrivaled in
human history came through Ceres. Where there was commerce on that
level, there was also crime. Where there was crime, there were security
forces to keep it in check. Men like Miller and Havelock, whose business it
was to track the electric carts up the wide ramps, feel the false gravity of
spin fall away beneath them, and ask low-rent glitz whores about what
happened the night Bomie Chatterjee stopped collecting protection money
for the Golden Bough Society .
The prim ary station house for Star Helix Security , police force and
military garrison for the Ceres Station, was on the third level from the
asteroidâ s skin, two kilometers square and dug into the rock so high Miller
could walk from his desk up five levels without ever leaving the offices.
Havelock turned in the cart while Miller went to his cubicle, downloaded
the recording of their interview with the girl, and reran it. He was halfway
through when his partner lumbered up behind him.
âLearn anything?â Havelock asked.
âNot much,â Miller said. âBomie got jumped by a bunch of
unaffiliated local thugs. Someti mes a low-level guy like Bomie will hire
people to pretend to attack him so he can heroically fight them off. Ups his
reputation. Thatâs what she meant when she called it a dance number . The
guys that went after him were that caliber , only instead of turning into a
ninja badass, Bomie ran away and hasnâ t come back.â
âAnd now?â
The Forgotten Arm
- Detectives Miller and Havelock investigate a strange lack of retaliation from the Golden Bough crime syndicate after one of their members was attacked.
- Miller observes that the usual order of organized crime on Ceres is breaking down, with mid-level enforcers disappearing and gangs becoming distracted.
- Captain Shaddid summons Miller to a private meeting, excluding his partner Havelock due to his Earth-born origins and lack of seniority.
- The looming threat of the Outer Planets Alliance (OPA) serves as a constant source of tension for security forces on the station.
Say what you will about organized crime, at least itâs organized.
the recording of their interview with the girl, and reran it. He was halfway
through when his partner lumbered up behind him.
âLearn anything?â Havelock asked.
âNot much,â Miller said. âBomie got jumped by a bunch of
unaffiliated local thugs. Someti mes a low-level guy like Bomie will hire
people to pretend to attack him so he can heroically fight them off. Ups his
reputation. Thatâs what she meant when she called it a dance number . The
guys that went after him were that caliber , only instead of turning into a
ninja badass, Bomie ran away and hasnâ t come back.â
âAnd now?â
âAnd now nothing,â Miller said. âThatâ s what I donât get. Someone
took out a Gold en Bough purse boy, and thereâ s no payback. I mean, okay ,
Bomieâ s a bottom-feeder , butâŚâ
âBut once they start eating the little guys, thereâ s less money coming
up to the big guys,â Havelock said. âSo why hasnâ t the Golden Bough
meted out some gangster justice?â
âI donâ t like this,â Miller said.
Havelock laughed. âBelters,â he said. âOne thing goes weird and you
think the whole ecosystemâ s crashing. If the Golden Boughâ s too weak to
keep its claims, thatâ s a good thing. Theyâre the bad guys, remember?â
âYeah, well,â Miller said. âSay what you will about organized crime,
at least itâ s organized.â
Havelock sat on the small plastic chair beside Miller âs desk and craned
to watch the playback.
âOkay ,â Havelock said. âWhat the hell is the âfor gotten armâ?â
âBoxing term,â Miller said. âItâ s the hit you didnâ t see coming.â
The computer chimed and Captain Shaddidâ s voice came from the
speakers.
âMiller? Are you there?â
âMmm,â Havelock said. âBad omen.â
âWhat?â the captain asked, her voice sharp. She had never quite
overcome her prejudice against Havelockâ s inner planet origins. Miller held
up a hand to silence his partner .
âHere, Captain. What can I do for you?â
âMeet me in my of fice, please.â
âOn my way ,â he said.
Miller stood, and Havelock slid into his chair . They didnâ t speak. Both
of them knew that Captain Shaddid would have called them in together if
sheâd wanted Havelock to be there. Another reason the man would never
make senior detective. Miller left him alone with the playbac k, trying to
parse the fine points of class and station, origin and race. Lifetimeâ s work,
that.
Captain Shaddid âs office was decorated in a soft, feminine style. Real
cloth tapestries hung from the walls, and the scent of coffee and cinnamon
came from an insert in her air filter that cost about a tenth of what the real
foodstuf fs woul d have. She wore her uniform casually , her hair down
around her shoulders in violation of corporate regulations. If Miller had
ever been called upon to describe her, the phrase deceptive coloration
would have figured in. She nodded to a chair , and he sat.
âWhat have you found?â she asked, but her gaze was on the wall
behind him. This wasnâ t a pop quiz; she was just making conversation.
âGolden Bough âs looking the same as Sohiroâ s crew and the Loca
Greiga. Still on station, but⌠distracted, I guess Iâd call it. Theyâre letting
little things slide. Fewer thugs on the ground, less enforceme nt. Iâve got
half a dozen mid-level guys whoâve gone dark.â
Heâd caught her attention.
âKilled?â she asked. âAn OP A advance?â
An advance by the Outer Planets Alliance was the constant bogeyman
of Ceres security . Living in the tradition of Al Capone and Ham as, the IRA
and the Red Martials, the OPA was beloved by the people it helped and
feared by the ones who got in its way. Part social movement, part wannabe
nation, and part terrorist network, it totally lacked an institutional
conscience. Captain Shaddid might not like Havelock because he was from
The Mao-Kwikowski Contract
- Detective Miller reports a suspicious drop in criminal activity on Ceres, suggesting a shift in the underworld landscape.
- Captain Shaddid assigns Miller a private contract for a corporate shareholder, bypassing standard station security protocols.
- The assignment involves locating Julie Mao, the 'black sheep' daughter of the powerful Mao-Kwikowski Mercantile family.
- Miller realizes he is being used as a tool for Earth-based interests, highlighting the power dynamics between corporations and Belt security.
- The target, Julie Mao, is linked to the Far Horizons Foundation, a group Miller identifies as a front for the OPA.
The simple fact that Miller knew that much about them meant they had enough money to buy and sell men like him on open exchange.
half a dozen mid-level guys whoâve gone dark.â
Heâd caught her attention.
âKilled?â she asked. âAn OP A advance?â
An advance by the Outer Planets Alliance was the constant bogeyman
of Ceres security . Living in the tradition of Al Capone and Ham as, the IRA
and the Red Martials, the OPA was beloved by the people it helped and
feared by the ones who got in its way. Part social movement, part wannabe
nation, and part terrorist network, it totally lacked an institutional
conscience. Captain Shaddid might not like Havelock because he was from
down a gravity well, but sheâd work with him. The OPA would have put
him in an airlock. People like Miller would only rate getting a bullet in the
skull, and a nice plastic one at that. Nothing that might get shrapnel in the
ductwork.
âI donât think so,â he said. âIt doesnâ t smell like a war. Itâs⌠Honestly ,
sir, I donât know what the hell it is. The numbers are great. Protectionâ s
down, unlicensed gamblingâ s down. Cooper and Hariri shut down the
underage whorehouse up on six, and as far as anyone can tell, it hasnâ t
started up again. Thereâ s a little more action by independents, but that aside,
itâs all looking great. It just smells funny .â
She nodded, but her gaze was back on the wall. Heâd lost her interest
as quickly as heâd gotten it.
âWell, put it aside,â she said. âI have something. New contra ct. Just
you. Not Havelock.â
Miller crossed his arms.
âNew contract,â he said slowly . âMeaning?â
âMeaning Star Helix Security has accepted a contract for services
separate from the Ceres security assignment, and in my role as site manager
for the corporation, Iâm assigning you to it.â
âIâm fired?â he said.
Captain Shaddid looked pained.
âItâs additional duty,â she said. âYouâll still have the Ceres
assignments you have now. Itâs just that, in addition⌠Look, Miller , I think
this is as shitty as you do. Iâm not pulling you off station. Iâm not taking
you off the main contract. This is a favor someone down on Earth is doing
for a shareholder .â
âWeâre doing favors for shareholders now?â Miller asked.
âYou are, yes,â Captain Shaddid said. The softness was gone; the
conciliatory tone was gone. Her eyes were dark as wet stone.
âRight, then,â Miller said. âI guess I am.â
Captain Shaddid held up her hand terminal. Miller fumbled at his side,
pulled out his own, and accepted the narrow-beam transfer . Whatever this
was, Shaddid was keeping it off the common network. A new file tree,
labeled JMAO , appeared on his readout.
âItâs a little-lost-daughter case,â Captain Shaddid said. âAriadne and
Jules-Pierre Mao.â
The names rang a bell. Miller pressed his fingertips onto the screen of
his hand terminal.
âMao-Kwikowski Mercantile?â he asked.
âThe one.â
Miller whistled low .
Maokwik might not have been one of the top ten corporations in the
Belt, but it was certainly in the upper fifty. Originally , it had been a legal
firm involved in the epic failure of the Venusian cloud cities. Theyâd used
the money from that decades-lo ng lawsuit to diversify and expand, mostly
into interplanetary transport. Now the corporate station was independent,
floating between the Belt and the inner planets with the regal majesty of an
ocean liner on ancient seas. The simple fact that Miller knew that much
about them meant they had enou gh money to buy and sell men like him on
open exchange.
Heâd just been bought.
âTheyâre Luna-based,â Captain Shaddid said. âAll the rights and
privileges of Earth citizenship. But they do a lot of shipping business out
here.â
âAnd they misplaced a daughter?â
âBlack sheep,â the captain said. âWent off to college, got involved
with a group called the Far Horizons Foundation. Student activists.â
âOPA front,â Miller said.
âAssociated,â Shaddid corrected him. Miller let it pass, but a flicker of
curiosity troubled him. He wondered which side Captain Shaddid would be
on if the OPA attacked. âThe family put it down to a phase. Theyâve got
The Kidnap Job
- Detective Miller is assigned a mission to find and forcibly return Julie Mao, the daughter of a wealthy Earth-citizen family.
- Julie Mao is described as a 'black sheep' who abandoned her privileged life to join student activists associated with the OPA.
- Miller reflects on the moral flexibility required to survive on Ceres, acknowledging the corruption and pragmatism of station security.
- The detective's internal monologue reveals his cynical perspective on the artificial environment of Ceres and his failed marriage.
- The assignment is framed as a 'kidnap job,' marking a new moral low for Miller despite his long history of questionable police work.
The circle of life on Ceres was so small you could see the curve.
âTheyâre Luna-based,â Captain Shaddid said. âAll the rights and
privileges of Earth citizenship. But they do a lot of shipping business out
here.â
âAnd they misplaced a daughter?â
âBlack sheep,â the captain said. âWent off to college, got involved
with a group called the Far Horizons Foundation. Student activists.â
âOPA front,â Miller said.
âAssociated,â Shaddid corrected him. Miller let it pass, but a flicker of
curiosity troubled him. He wondered which side Captain Shaddid would be
on if the OPA attacked. âThe family put it down to a phase. Theyâve got
two older children with controlling interest, so if Julie wanted to bounce
around vacuum calling herself a freedom fighter , there was no real harm.â
âBut now they want her found,â Miller said.
âThey do.â
âWhat changed?â
âThey didnâ t see fit to share that information.â
âRight.â
âLast records show she was employed on Tycho Station but
maintained an apartment here. Iâve found her partition on the network and
locked it down. The password is in your files.â
âOkay ,â Miller said. âWhatâ s my contract?â
âFind Julie Mao, detain her , and ship her home.â
âA kidnap job, then,â he said.
âYes.â
Miller stared down at his hand terminal, flicking the files open without
particularly looking at them. A strange knot had tied itself in his guts. Heâd
been working Ceres security for sixteen years, and he hadnâ t started with
many illusions in place. The joke was that Ceres didnâ t have lawsâit had
police. His hands werenâ t any cleaner than Captain Shaddidâ s. Sometimes
people fell out airlocks. Sometimes evidence vanished from the lockers. It
wasnâ t so much that it was right or wrong as that it was justified. You spent
your life in a stone bubble with your food, your water , your air shipped in
from places so distant you could barely find them with a telescope, and a
certain moral flexibility was necessary . But heâd never had to take a kidnap
job before.
âProblem, Detective?â Captain Shaddid asked.
âNo, sir ,â he said. âIâll take care of it.â
âDonâ t spend too much time on it,â she said.
âYes, sir . Anything else?â
Captain Shaddidâ s hard eyes softened, like she was putting on a mask.
She smiled.
âEverything going well with your partner?â
âHavelockâ s all right,â Miller said. âHaving him around makes people
like me better by contrast. Thatâ s nice.â
Her smileâ s only change was to become half a degree more genuine.
Nothing like a little shared racism to build ties with the boss. Miller nodded
respectfully and headed out.
His hole was on the eighth level, off a residential tunnel a hundred meters
wide with fifty meters of carefully cultivated green park running down the
center . The main corridor âs vaulted ceiling was lit by recessed lights and
painted a blue that Havelock assured him matched the Earthâ s summer sky.
Living on the surface of a plane t, mass sucking at every bone and muscle,
and nothing but gravity to keep your air close, seemed like a fast path to
crazy . The blue was nice, though.
Some people followed Captain Shaddidâ s lead by perfuming their air.
Not always with coffee and cinnamon scents, of course. Havelockâ s hole
smelled of baking bread. Others opted for floral scents or semipheromones.
Candace, Miller âs ex-wife, had preferred something called EarthLily , which
had always made him think of the waste recycling levels. These days, he
left it at the vaguely astringent smell of the station itself. Recy cled air that
had passed through a million lungs. Water from the tap so clean it could be
used for lab work, but it had been piss and shit and tears and blood and
would be again. The circle of life on Ceres was so small you could see the
curve. He liked it that way .
He poured a glass of moss whiskey , a native Ceres liquor made from
engineered yeast, then took off his shoes and settled onto the foam bed. He
could still see Candaceâ s disapproving scowl and hear her sigh. He
shrugged apology to her memory and turned back to work.
The Circle of Life on Ceres
- Detective Miller investigates the background of Julie Mao, a wealthy socialite and record-breaking pilot who has mysteriously fallen from grace.
- The narrative highlights the claustrophobic and recycled nature of life on Ceres, where resources like air and water are endlessly reused.
- Miller reflects on his failed marriage and his isolation, finding more comfort in the ghosts of his past than in his current investigation.
- James Holden and his crew prepare the shuttle Knight for a mission, struggling with the physical toll of high-gravity maneuvers.
Water from the tap so clean it could be used for lab work, but it had been piss and shit and tears and blood and would be again.
had always made him think of the waste recycling levels. These days, he
left it at the vaguely astringent smell of the station itself. Recy cled air that
had passed through a million lungs. Water from the tap so clean it could be
used for lab work, but it had been piss and shit and tears and blood and
would be again. The circle of life on Ceres was so small you could see the
curve. He liked it that way .
He poured a glass of moss whiskey , a native Ceres liquor made from
engineered yeast, then took off his shoes and settled onto the foam bed. He
could still see Candaceâ s disapproving scowl and hear her sigh. He
shrugged apology to her memory and turned back to work.
Juliette Androm eda Mao. He read through her work histo ry, her
academic records. Talented pinnace pilot. There was a picture of her at
eighteen in a tailored vac suit with the helmet off: pretty girl with a thin,
lunar citizenâ s frame and long black hair. She was grinning like the universe
had given her a kiss. The linked text said sheâd won first place in something
called the Parrish/Dorn 500K. He searched briefly . Some kind of race only
really rich people could afford to fly in. Her pinnaceâthe Razorback âhad
beaten the previous record and held it for two years.
Miller sipped his whiskey and wondered what had happened to the girl
with enough wealth and power to own a private ship that would bring her
here. It was a long way from competing in expensive space races to being
hog-tied and sent home in a pod. Or maybe it wasnâ t.
âPoor little rich girl,â Miller said to the screen. âSucks to be you, I
guess.â
He closed the files and drank quietly and seriously , staring at the blank
ceiling above him. The chair where Candace used to sit and ask him about
his day stood empty , but he could see her there anyway . Now that she
wasnâ t here to make him talk, it was easier to respect the impulse. Sheâd
been lonely . He could see that now . In his imagination, she rolled her eyes.
An hour later, his blood warm with drink, he heated up a bowl of real
rice and fake beansâyeast and fungus could mimic anything if you had
enough whiskey firstâopened the door of his hole, and ate dinner looking
out at the traffic gently curving by. The second shift streamed into the tube
stations and then out of them. The kids who lived two holes downâa girl of
eight and her brother of fourâmet their father with hugs, squeals, mutual
accusations, and tears. The blue ceiling glowed in its reflected light,
unchanging, static, reassuring. A sparrow fluttered down the tunnel,
hovering in a way that Havelock assured him they couldnâ t on Earth. Miller
threw it a fake bean.
He tried to think about the Mao girl, but in truth he didnâ t much care.
Something was happening to the organized crime families of Ceres, and it
made him jumpy as hell.
This thing with Julie Mao? It was a sideshow .
Chapter Thr ee
Holden
After nearly two full days in high gravity , Holdenâ s knees and back and
neck ached. And his head. Hell, his feet. He walked in the crew hatch of the
Knight just as Naomi was climbing up the ladder from its cargo bay. She
smiled and gave him a thumbs-up.
âThe salvage mech is locked down,â she said. âReactor is warming up.
Weâre ready to fly .â
âGood.â
âWe got a pilot yet?â she asked.
âAlex Kamal is on the ready rotation today , so heâs our man. I kind of
wish Valka had been up. Heâs not the pilot Alex is, but heâs quieter , and my
head hurts.â
âI like Alex. Heâ s ebullient,â Naomi said.
âI donât know what ebullient means, but if it means Alex, it makes me
tired.â
Holden started up the ladder to ops and the cockpit. In the shiny black
surface of a deactivated wall panel, Naomiâ s reflection smirked at his back.
He couldnât understand how Belters, thin as pencils, bounced back from
high g so quickly . Decades of practice and selective breeding, he assumed.
In ops, Holden strapped into the command console, the crash couch
Preparing the Knight
- Holden and his crew prepare the shuttle Knight for a rescue mission while recovering from the physical toll of high-gravity maneuvers.
- The crew consists of a diverse mix of Belters, Martians, and Earthers, highlighting the physiological differences caused by their varying planetary origins.
- Alex Kamal, a former Martian navy pilot with a distinctive Mariner Valley drawl, calculates a low-energy flight plan using maneuvering thrusters.
- Captain McDowell grants the shuttle permission to depart the Canterbury, emphasizing the high stakes and the value of the crew and equipment.
Holden leaned back in his chair and listened to the creaks of the Canterburyâs final maneuvers, the steel and ceramics as loud and ominous as the wood planks of a sailing ship.
âWe got a pilot yet?â she asked.
âAlex Kamal is on the ready rotation today , so heâs our man. I kind of
wish Valka had been up. Heâs not the pilot Alex is, but heâs quieter , and my
head hurts.â
âI like Alex. Heâ s ebullient,â Naomi said.
âI donât know what ebullient means, but if it means Alex, it makes me
tired.â
Holden started up the ladder to ops and the cockpit. In the shiny black
surface of a deactivated wall panel, Naomiâ s reflection smirked at his back.
He couldnât understand how Belters, thin as pencils, bounced back from
high g so quickly . Decades of practice and selective breeding, he assumed.
In ops, Holden strapped into the command console, the crash couch
material silently conforming to his body . At the half g Ade put them on for
the final approach, the foam felt good. He let a small groan slip out. The
switches, plastic and metal made to withstand hard g and hundreds of years,
clicked sharply . The Knight responded with an array of glowing diagnostic
indicators and a near -subliminal hum.
A few minutes later, Holden glanced over to see Alex Kamalâ s
thinning black hair appear , followed by his round cheerful face, a deep
brown that years of shipboard life couldnâ t pale. Martian-raised , Alex had a
frame that was thicker than a Belterâs. He was slender compared to Holden,
and even so, his flight suit stretched tight against his spreadin g waistline.
Alex had flown in the Martia n navy , but heâd clearly given up on the
military-style fitness routine.
âHowdy , XO,â he drawled. The old west affectation common to
everyone from the Mariner Valley annoyed Holden. There hadnâ t been a
cowboy on Earth in a hundred years, and Mars didnâ t have a blade of grass
that wasnâ t under a dome, or a horse that wasnâ t in a zoo. Mariner Valley
had been settled by East Indians, Chinese, and a small contingent of T exans.
Apparently , the drawl was viral. They all had it now. âHowâ s the old
warhorse today?â
âSmooth so far. We need a flight plan. Ade will be bringing us to
relative stop inââhe checked the time readoutââforty , so work fast. I want
to get out, get it done, and get the Cant back on course to Ceres before she
starts rusting.â
âRoger that,â Alex said, climbing up to the Knight âs cockpit.
Holdenâ s headse t clicked; then Naomiâ s voice said, âAmos and Shed
are aboard. W eâre all ready down here.â
âThanks. Just waiting on flight numbers from Alex and weâll be ready
to go.â
The crew was the minimum necessary: Holden as command, Alex to
get them there and back, Shed in case there were survivors to treat, Naomi
and Amos for salvage if there werenâ t.
It wasnât long before Alex called down, âOkay , Boss. Itâll be about a
four-hour trip flyinâ teakettle. Total mass use at about thirty percent, but
weâve got a full tank. T otal mission time: eleven hours.â
âCopy that. Thanks, Alex,â Holden said.
Flying teakettle was naval slang for flying on the maneuvering
thrusters that used superheated steam for reaction mass. The Knight âs fusion
torch would be dangerous to use this close to the Canterbury and wasteful
on such a short trip. Torches were pre-Epstein fusion drives and far less
efficient.
âCalling for permission to leave the barn,â Holden said, and clicked
from internal comm to the link with the Canterbury âs bridge. âHolden here.
Knight is ready to fly .â
âOkay , Jim, go ahead,â McDowell said. âAdeâ s bringing her to a stop
now. You kids be careful out there. That shuttle is expensive and Iâve
always sort of had a thing for Naomi.â
âRoger that, Captain,â Holden said. Back on the internal comm, he
buzzed Alex. âGo ahead and take us out.â
Holden leaned back in his chair and listened to the creaks of the
Canterbury âs final maneuvers, the steel and ceramics as loud and ominous
as the wood planks of a sailing ship. Or an Earther âs joints after high g. For
a moment, Holden felt sympathy for the ship.
They werenât really stopping, of course. Nothing in space ever actually
The Silent Scopuli
- The crew of the Knight departs the Canterbury to investigate the distress signal of the Scopuli near a lonely asteroid.
- Holden observes that the Scopuli's position against the rock is statistically impossible by chance, suggesting a deliberate encounter.
- Technical scans reveal the ship is completely dark with a manual reactor shutdown and a visible hole in the hull.
- Despite orders to retreat if things seem off, Holden decides to approach while keeping the shuttle in a high-readiness 'run-like-a-bunny' mode.
It was a half-kilometer-wide roadblock on a highway millions of kilometers in diameter.
âOkay , Jim, go ahead,â McDowell said. âAdeâ s bringing her to a stop
now. You kids be careful out there. That shuttle is expensive and Iâve
always sort of had a thing for Naomi.â
âRoger that, Captain,â Holden said. Back on the internal comm, he
buzzed Alex. âGo ahead and take us out.â
Holden leaned back in his chair and listened to the creaks of the
Canterbury âs final maneuvers, the steel and ceramics as loud and ominous
as the wood planks of a sailing ship. Or an Earther âs joints after high g. For
a moment, Holden felt sympathy for the ship.
They werenât really stopping, of course. Nothing in space ever actually
stopped; it only came into a matching orbit with some other object. They
were now following CA-221686 2 on its merry millennium-long trip around
the sun.
Ade sent them the green light, and Holden emptied out the hangar bay
air and popped the doors. Alex took them out of the dock on white cones of
superheated steam.
They went to find the Scopuli.
CA-2216862 was a rock a half kilometer across that had wandered away
from the Belt and been yanked around by Jupiter âs enormous gravity . It had
eventually found its own slow orbit around the sun in the vast expanse
between Jupiter and the Belt, territory empty even for space.
The sight of the Scopuli resting gently against the asteroidâ s side, held
in place by the rockâs tiny gravity , gave Holden a chill. Even if it was flying
blind, every instrument dead, its odds of hitting such an object by chance
were infinitesimally low. It was a half-kilometer -wide roadblock on a
highway million s of kilometers in diameter . It hadnâ t arrived there by
accident. He scratched the hairs standing up on the back of his neck.
âAlex, hold us at two klicks out,â Holden said. âNaomi, what can you
tell me about that ship?â
âHull configuration matches the registry information. Itâs definitely the
Scopuli. Sheâ s not radiating in the electromagnetic or infrared. Just that little
distress beacon. Looks like the reactor âs shut down. Must have been manual
and not damage, because we arenât getting any radiation leakage either ,â
Naomi said.
Holden looked at the pictures they were getting from the Knight âs
scopes, as well as the image the Knight created by bouncing a laser off the
Scopuli âs hull. âWhat about that thing that looks like a hole in the side?â
âUh,â Naomi said. âLadar says itâ s a hole in the side.â
Holden frowned. âOkay , letâs stay here for a minute and recheck the
neighborhood. Anything on the scope, Naomi?â
âNope. And the big array on the Cant can spot a kid throwing rocks on
Luna. Becca says thereâ s nobody within twenty million klicks right now,â
Naomi said.
Holden tapped out a complicated rhythm on the arm of his chair and
drifted up in the straps. He felt hot, and reached over to aim the closest air-
circulation nozzle at his face. His scalp tingled with evaporating sweat.
If you see anything out there that seems off, donât play hero again. Just
pack up the toys and come home. Those were his orders. He looked at the
image of the Scopuli, the hole in its side.
âOkay ,â he said. âAlex, take us in to a quarter klick, and hold station
there. Weâll ride to the surface on the mech. Oh, and keep the torch warmed
up and ready . If something nasty is hiding in that ship, I want to be able to
run away as fast as I can and melt anything behind us into slag while I do it.
Roger?â
âGot it, Boss. Knight âs in run-like-a -bunny mode till you say
otherwise,â Alex replied.
Holden looked over the comma nd console one more time, searching
Boarding the Scopuli
- Holden prepares his crew to investigate the derelict ship Scopuli while maintaining a cautious 'run-like-a-bunny' escape plan.
- The team identifies that the ship has been holed and abandoned near an asteroid, though the cause remains unknown.
- Amos requests a weapon for protection, leading Holden to issue a recoilless high-caliber automatic designed for zero-gravity combat.
- The crew suits up and tethers themselves to a spider-legged salvage mech piloted by Naomi to cross the vacuum to the wreck.
- Holden masks his own anxiety with a display of officer-like confidence to keep the crew focused and calm during the approach.
A traditional handgun would impart enough thrust to achieve escape velocity from a rock the size of CA-2216862.
Naomi said.
Holden tapped out a complicated rhythm on the arm of his chair and
drifted up in the straps. He felt hot, and reached over to aim the closest air-
circulation nozzle at his face. His scalp tingled with evaporating sweat.
If you see anything out there that seems off, donât play hero again. Just
pack up the toys and come home. Those were his orders. He looked at the
image of the Scopuli, the hole in its side.
âOkay ,â he said. âAlex, take us in to a quarter klick, and hold station
there. Weâll ride to the surface on the mech. Oh, and keep the torch warmed
up and ready . If something nasty is hiding in that ship, I want to be able to
run away as fast as I can and melt anything behind us into slag while I do it.
Roger?â
âGot it, Boss. Knight âs in run-like-a -bunny mode till you say
otherwise,â Alex replied.
Holden looked over the comma nd console one more time, searching
for the flashing red warning light that would give him permi ssion to go
back to the Cant. Everything remained a soft green. He popped open his
buckles and shoved himself out of the chair . A push on the wall with one
foot sent him over to the ladde r, and he descended headfirst with gentle
touches on the rungs.
In the crew area, Naomi, Amos, and Shed were still strapped into their
crash couches. Holden caught the ladder and swung around so that his crew
didnâ t look upside down. They started undoing their restraints.
âOkay , hereâs the situation. The Scopuli got holed, and someone left it
floating next to this rock. No one is on the scopes, so maybe that means it
happened a while ago and they left. Naomi, youâll be driving the salvage
mech, and the three of us will tether on and catch a ride down to the wreck.
Shed, you stay with the mech unless we find an injured person, which
seems unlikely . Amos and I will go into the ship through that hole and poke
around. If we find anything even remotely booby trapâlike, we will come
back to the mech, Naomi will fly us back to the Knight, and we will run
away . Any questions?â
Amos raised one beefy hand. âMaybe we oughta be armed, XO. Case
thereâ s piratey types still lurking aboard.â
Holden laughed . âWell, if there are, then their ride left without them.
But if it makes you feel more comfortable, go ahead and bring a gun.â
If the big, burly Earther mechanic was carrying a gun, it would make
him feel better too, but better not to say it. Let them think the guy in charge
felt confident.
Holden used his officerâs key to open the weapon locker , and Amos
took a high-calib er automatic that fired self-propelled rounds, recoilless and
designed for use in zero g. Old-fashioned slug throwers were more reliable,
but in null gravity they were also maneuvering thrusters. A traditional
handgun would impart enough thrust to achieve escape velocity from a rock
the size of CA-2216862.
The crew drifted down to the cargo bay, where the egg-shaped, spider -
legged open cage of Naomiâ s mech waited. Each of the four legs had a
manipulator claw at the end and a variety of cutting and welding tools built
into it. The back pair could grip on to a shipâ s hull or other structure for
leverage, and the front two could be used to make repairs or chop salvage
into portable pieces.
âHats on,â Hold en said, and the crew helped each other put on and
secure their helmets. Everyone checked their own suit and then someone
elseâs. When the cargo doors opened, it would be too late to make sure they
were buttoned up right.
While Naomi climbed into her mech, Amos, Holden, and Shed secured
their suit tethers to the cockpitâ s metal cage. Naomi checked the mech and
then hit the switch to cycle the cargo bayâs atmosphere and open the doors.
Sound inside Holdenâ s suit faded to just the hiss of air and the faint static of
the radio. The air had a slight medicine smell.
Naomi went first, taking the mech down toward the asteroidâ s surface
Breaching the Scopuli
- The crew of the Knight departs their shuttle via tethers and a mech to investigate the derelict ship Scopuli.
- Holden reflects on the utilitarian, aesthetic-free design of human spacecraft while drifting through the vacuum.
- Amos identifies that the damage to the Scopuli was caused by a deliberate breaching charge rather than a torpedo.
- The discovery of a manual breach suggests the ship was boarded by force rather than destroyed from a distance.
- Despite the suspicious nature of the damage, Holden orders the team to cut their way into the ship's interior.
Naomi brought the mech in closer, nitrogen blasts no more than a white breath on a cold night.
elseâs. When the cargo doors opened, it would be too late to make sure they
were buttoned up right.
While Naomi climbed into her mech, Amos, Holden, and Shed secured
their suit tethers to the cockpitâ s metal cage. Naomi checked the mech and
then hit the switch to cycle the cargo bayâs atmosphere and open the doors.
Sound inside Holdenâ s suit faded to just the hiss of air and the faint static of
the radio. The air had a slight medicine smell.
Naomi went first, taking the mech down toward the asteroidâ s surface
on small jets of compressed nitrogen, the crew trailing her on three-meter -
long tethers. As they flew, Hold en looked back up at the Knight: a blocky
gray wedge with a drive cone stuck on the wider end. Like everything else
humans built for space travel, it was designed to be efficient, not pretty .
That always made Holden a little sad. There should be room for aesthetics,
even out here.
The Knight seemed to drift away from him, getting smaller and
smaller , while he didnâ t move. The illusion vanished when he turned around
to look at the asteroid and felt they were hurtling toward it. He opened a
channel to Naomi, but she was humming to herself as she flew, which
meant she, at least, wasnâ t worried. He didnâ t say anything, but he left the
channel open to listen to her hum.
Up close , the Scopuli didnât look all that bad. Other than the gaping
hole in its flank, it didnâ t have any damage. It clearly hadnâ t hit the asteroid;
it had just been left close enoug h that the microgravity had slow ly reeled it
in. As they approached, he snapped pictures with his suit helmet and
transmitted them to the Canterbury .
Naomi brought them to a stop, hovering three meters above the hole in
the Scopuli âs side. Amos whistled across the general suit channel.
âThat wasnât a torpedo did this, XO. This was a breaching charge. See
how the metalâ s bent in all around the edges? Thatâ s shaped charges stuck
right on her hull,â Amos said.
In addit ion to being a fine mechanic, Amos was the one who used
explosive surgery to crack open the iceber gs floating around Saturn and
turn them into more manageable chunks. Another reason to have him on the
Knight.
âSo,â Holden said, âour friends here on the Scopuli stop, let someo ne
climb onto their hull and plant a breaching charge, and then crack them
open and let all the air out. Does that make sense to anyone?â
âNope,â Naomi said. âIt doesnâ t. Still want to go inside?â
If you see anything out there that seems off, donât play hero again. Just
pack up the toys and come home.
But what could he have expected? Of course the Scopuli wasnât up and
running. Of course something had gone wrong. Off would have been not
seeing anything strange.
âAmos,â Holden said, âkeep that gun out, just in case. Naomi, can you
make us a bigger hole? And be careful. If anything looks wrong, back us
off.â
Naomi brought the mech in closer , nitrogen blasts no more than a
white breath on a cold night. The mechâ s welding torch blazed to life, red
hot, then white, then blue. In silence, the mechâ s arms unfurledâan
insectile movementâand Naomi started cutting. Holden and Amos dropped
to the shipâ s surface, clamping on with magnetic boots. He could feel the
vibration in his feet when Naomi pulled a length of hull free. A moment
later the torch turned off, and Naomi blasted the fresh edges of the hole
with the mechâ s fire-suppression gear to cool them. Holden gave Amos the
thumbs-up and dropped himself very slowly into the Scopuli.
The breaching charge had been placed almost exactly amidships,
The Ghost of the Scopuli
- Holden and Amos breach the hull of the Scopuli and find the ship's interior completely depressurized and devoid of life.
- The absence of bodies and the fact that valuable tools remain untouched suggest the incident was not a standard pirate robbery.
- Amos discovers that the ship's reactor was intentionally shut down following the attack, rather than being damaged by it.
- The investigation takes a dangerous turn when Holden realizes the distress beacon was not activated by the crew and finds a suspicious black box.
The lack of bodies was starting to bother Holden more than the presence of them would have.
hot, then white, then blue. In silence, the mechâ s arms unfurledâan
insectile movementâand Naomi started cutting. Holden and Amos dropped
to the shipâ s surface, clamping on with magnetic boots. He could feel the
vibration in his feet when Naomi pulled a length of hull free. A moment
later the torch turned off, and Naomi blasted the fresh edges of the hole
with the mechâ s fire-suppression gear to cool them. Holden gave Amos the
thumbs-up and dropped himself very slowly into the Scopuli.
The breaching charge had been placed almost exactly amidships,
blasting a hole into the galley . When Holden landed and his boots grabbed
on to the galley wall, he could feel flash-frozen bits of food crunch under
them. There were no bodies in sight.
âCome on in, Amos. No crew visible yet,â Holden called over the suit
comm.
He moved off to the side and a moment later Amos dropped in, gun
clutched in his right hand and a powerful light in his left. The white beam
played across the walls of the destroyed galley .
âWhich way first, XO?â Amos asked.
Holden tapped on his thigh with one hand and thought. âEngineering. I
want to know why the reactor âs off-line.â
They took the crew ladder , climbing along it toward the aft of the ship.
All the pressure doors between decks were open, which was a bad sign.
They should all be closed by default, and certainly if the atmo sphere-loss
alarm had sound ed. If they were open, that meant there were no decks with
atmosphere left in the ship. Which meant no survivors. Not a surprise, but it
still felt like a defeat. They passed through the small ship quickly, pausing
in the machine shop. Expensive engine parts and tools were still in place.
âGuess it wasnâ t robbery ,â Amos said.
Holden didnâ t say, Then what was it? but the questio n hung between
them anyway .
The engine room was neat as a pin, cold, and dead. Holden waited
while Amos looked it over, spending at least ten minutes just floating
around the reactor .
âSomeone went through the shutdown procedures,â Amos said. âThe
reactor wasnâ t killed by the blast, it was turned off afterward. No damage
that I can see. Donât make sense. If everyone is dead from the attack, who
shut it down? And if itâ s pirates, why not take the ship? Sheâll still fly .â
âAnd before they turned off the power , they went through and opened
every interior pressure door on the ship. Emptied out the air. I guess they
wanted to make sure no one was hiding,â Holden said. âOkay , letâs head
back up to ops and see if we can crack the computer core. Maybe it can tell
us what happened.â
They floated back toward the bow along the crew ladder , and up to the
ops deck. It too was undamaged and empty . The lack of bodies was starting
to bother Holden more than the presence of them would have. He floated
over to the main computer console and hit a few keys to see if it might still
be running on backup power . It wasnâ t.
âAmos, start cutting the core out. Weâll take it with us. Iâm going to
check comms, see if I can find that beacon.â
Amos moved to the computer and started taking out tools and sticking
them to the bulkhead next to it. He began a profanity-laced mumble as he
worked. It wasnâ t nearly as charming as Naomiâ s humming, so Holden
turned off his link to Amos while he moved to the communicatio ns console.
It was as dead as the rest of the ship. He found the shipâ s beacon.
No one had activated it. Something else had called them. Holden
moved back, frowning.
He looked through the space, searching for something out of place.
There, on the deck beneath the comm operator âs console. A small black box
not connected to anything else.
His heart took a long pause between beats. He called out to Amos,
âDoes that look like a bomb to you?â
False Beacons and Gray Economics
- Holden and Amos discover that the distress signal they followed was not the ship's official beacon, but a makeshift transmitter powered by a battery.
- Holden suspects the transmitter is a trap designed to trigger a secondary signal once discovered, prompting an immediate evacuation order.
- On Ceres, Detective Miller is interrupted during his meal by a call from a bar manager regarding his partner's erratic behavior.
- The narrative shifts to the gritty reality of Ceres, where Miller navigates the 'gray economics' of favors and the station's artificial environment.
âAmos, does that look like a bomb to you?â He pointed at the box on the deck.
them to the bulkhead next to it. He began a profanity-laced mumble as he
worked. It wasnâ t nearly as charming as Naomiâ s humming, so Holden
turned off his link to Amos while he moved to the communicatio ns console.
It was as dead as the rest of the ship. He found the shipâ s beacon.
No one had activated it. Something else had called them. Holden
moved back, frowning.
He looked through the space, searching for something out of place.
There, on the deck beneath the comm operator âs console. A small black box
not connected to anything else.
His heart took a long pause between beats. He called out to Amos,
âDoes that look like a bomb to you?â
Amos ignored him. Holden turned his radio link back on.
âAmos, does that look like a bomb to you?â He pointed at the box on
the deck.
Amos left his work on the computer and floated over to look, then, in a
move that made Holdenâ s throat close, grabbed the box off the deck and
held it up.
âNope. Itâs a transmitter . See? â He held it up in front of Holdenâ s
helmet. âItâ s just got a battery taped to it. Whatâ s it doing there?â
âItâs the beacon we followed. Jesus. The shipâ s beacon never even
turned on. Someone made a fake one out of that transmitter and hooked it
up to a battery ,â Holden said quietly , still fighting his panic.
âWhy would they do that, XO? That donâ t make no kinda sense.â
âIt would if thereâ s something about this transmitter thatâs different
from standard,â Holden said.
âLike?â
âLike if it had a second signal triggered to go when someone found it,â
Holden said, then switched to the general suit channel. âOka y, boys and
girls, weâve found something weird, and weâre out of here. Everyone back
to the Knight, and be very careful when youââ
His radio crackled to life on the outside channel, McDowellâ s voice
filling his helmet. âJim? W e may have a problem.â
Chapter Four
Miller
Miller was halfw ay through his evening meal when the system in his hole
chirped. He glanced at the sending code. The Blue Frog. It was a port bar
catering to the constant extra million noncitizens of Ceres that advertised
itself as a near-exact replica of a famous Earth bar in Mumba i, only with
licensed prostitutes and legal drugs. Miller took another forkful of fungal
beans and vat-grown rice and debated whether to accept connection.
Should have seen this one coming, he thought.
âWhat?â he asked.
A scree n popped open. Hasini, the assistant manager , was a dark-
skinned man with eyes the color of ice. The near smirk on his face was the
result of nerve damage. Miller had done him a favor when Hasini had had
the poor judgment to take pity on an unlicensed prostitute. Since then,
security detectiv e and portside barman had traded favors. The unofficial,
gray economics of civilization.
âYour partner âs here again,â Hasini said over the pulse and wail of
bhangra music. âI think heâs having a bad night. Should I keep serving
him?â
âYeah,â Miller said. âKeep him happy for⌠Give me twenty minutes.â
âHe doesnâ t want to be kept happy. He very much wants a reason to
get unhappy .â
âMake it hard to find. Iâll be there.â
Hasini nodded, smirking his damaged smirk, and dropped the
connection. Miller looked at his half-eaten meal, sighed, and shoved the
remains into the recycling bin. He pulled on a clean shirt, then hesitated.
The Blue Frog was always warmer than he liked, and he hated wearing a
jacket. Instead, he put a compa ct plastic pistol in his ankle holster . Not as
fast a draw , but if it got that far , he was screwed anyway .
Ceres at night was indistinguishable from Ceres in the daytime. There
had been a move, back when the station first opened, to dim and brighten
the lights through the traditional human twenty-four -hour cycle, mimicking
the spin of Earth. The affectation had lasted four months before the council
killed it.
On duty, Miller would have taken an electric cart down the wide
The Rhythms of Ceres
- Detective Miller prepares for an off-duty excursion to a bar, choosing an ankle holster over a jacket to manage the station's heat.
- The narrative describes the artificial environment of Ceres, where attempts to mimic Earth's day-night cycle were abandoned in favor of constant illumination.
- A brief interaction with a father and child highlights the physiological differences of Belters, whose long limbs and medicated growth distinguish them from Earthers.
- Miller uses a meditative mental exercise to process the facts of his partner Havelock's recent behavior while traveling to the Blue Frog.
- The Blue Frog is depicted as a sensory-overloaded environment filled with artificial heat, concussive music, and a diverse crowd of station residents.
The girlâs talk was as fast and meaningless as a leaking seal, and her father responded with grunts and nods at more or less appropriate moments.
remains into the recycling bin. He pulled on a clean shirt, then hesitated.
The Blue Frog was always warmer than he liked, and he hated wearing a
jacket. Instead, he put a compa ct plastic pistol in his ankle holster . Not as
fast a draw , but if it got that far , he was screwed anyway .
Ceres at night was indistinguishable from Ceres in the daytime. There
had been a move, back when the station first opened, to dim and brighten
the lights through the traditional human twenty-four -hour cycle, mimicking
the spin of Earth. The affectation had lasted four months before the council
killed it.
On duty, Miller would have taken an electric cart down the wide
tunnels and down to the port levels. He was tempted even though he was of f
duty, but a deep-seated superstition stopped him. If he took the cart, he was
going as a cop, and the tubes ran just fine. Miller walked to the nearest
station, checked the status, and sat on the low stone bench. A man about
Miller âs age and a girl no more than three came in a minute later and sat
across from him. The girlâs talk was as fast and meaningless as a leaking
seal, and her father responded with grunts and nods at more or less
appropriate moments.
Miller and the new man nodded to each other . The girl tugged at her
father âs sleeve, demanding his attention. Miller looked at herâdark eyes,
pale hair, smooth skin. She was already too tall to be mistaken for an Earth
child, her limbs longer and thinner . Her skin had the pink flush of Belter
babies, which came with the pharmaceutical cocktail that assur ed that their
muscles and bones would grow strong. Miller saw the fathe r notice his
attention. Miller smiled and nodded toward the kid.
âHow old?â he asked.
âTwo and a half,â the father said.
âGood age.â
The father shrugged, but he smiled.
âKids?â he asked.
âNo,â Miller said. âBut Iâve a got a divorce about that old.â
They chuckled together as if it was funny . In his imagination, Candace
crossed her arms and looked away . The soft oil-and-ozone-scented breeze
announced the tubeâ s arrival. Miller let father and child go first, then chose
a different compartment.
The tube cars were round, built to fit into the evacuated passages.
There were no windows. The only view would have been stone humming
by three centimeters from the car. Instead, broad screens advertised
entertainment feeds or commented on inner planet political scandals or
offered the chance to gamble away a weekâ s pay at casinos so wonderful
that your life would seem richer for the experience. Miller let the bright,
empty colors dance and ignored their content. Mentally , he was holding up
his problem, turning it one way and then the other , not even looking for an
answer .
It was a simple mental exercise. Look at the facts without judgment:
Havelock was an Earther . Havel ock was in a portside bar again and looking
for a fight. Havelock was his partner . Statement after statemen t, fact after
fact, facet after facet. He didnâ t try to put them in order or make some kind
of narra tive out of them; that would all come later. Now it was enough to
wash the dayâs cases out of his head and get ready for the immediate
situation. By the time the tube reached his station, he felt centered. Like he
was walking on his whole foot, was how heâd described it, back when he
had anyone to describe it to.
The Blue Frog was crowded, the barn-heat of bodies adding to the
fake-Mumbai temperature and artificial air pollution. Lights glittered and
flashed in seizure-inducing display . Tables curved and undulated, the
backlight makin g them seem darker than merely black. Music moved
through the air with a physical presence, each beat a little concussion.
Hasini, standing in a clot of steroid-enhanced bouncers and underdressed
serving girls, caught Miller âs eyes and nodded toward the back. Miller
didnâ t acknowledge anything; he just turned and made his way through the
crowd.
Tensions at the Blue Frog
- Miller enters a volatile port bar filled with artificial pollution and sensory overload to find his partner, Havelock.
- The bar is unusually crowded with inner planet corporate security from Protogen, increasing the risk of violent confrontation.
- Miller intervenes to prevent a fight, bluntly telling Havelock that no amount of toughness will earn their superior's approval.
- As they leave the bar, a defensive Havelock reflects on his past career achievements and his struggle to find respect on Ceres.
- The interaction highlights the cultural friction between 'Belters' and 'Inners' within the station's law enforcement.
Havelock snapped to stare at Miller, the anger in his eyes barely covering the shame and hurt.
fake-Mumbai temperature and artificial air pollution. Lights glittered and
flashed in seizure-inducing display . Tables curved and undulated, the
backlight makin g them seem darker than merely black. Music moved
through the air with a physical presence, each beat a little concussion.
Hasini, standing in a clot of steroid-enhanced bouncers and underdressed
serving girls, caught Miller âs eyes and nodded toward the back. Miller
didnâ t acknowledge anything; he just turned and made his way through the
crowd.
Port bars were always volatile. Miller was careful not to bump into
anyone if he could help it. When he had to choose, heâd run into Belters
before inner planet types, women before men. His face was a constant mild
apology .
Havelock was sitting alone, with one thick hand wrapping a fluted
glass. When Miller sat down beside him, Havelock turned toward him,
ready to take offense, nostrils flared and eyes wide. Then the surprise
registered. Then something like sullen shame.
âMiller ,â he said. In the tunnels outside, he would have been shouting.
Here, it was barely enough to carry as far as Miller âs chair . âWhatâre you
doing here?â
âNothing much to do at the hole,â Miller said. âThought Iâd come pick
a fight.â
âGood night for it,â Havelock said.
It was true. Even in the bars that catered to inner planet types, the mix
was rarely better than one Earther or Martian in ten. Squinting out at the
crowd, Miller saw that the short, stocky men and women were nearer a
third.
âShip come in?â he asked.
âYeah.â
âEMCN?â he asked. The Earth-Mars Coalition Navy often passed
through Ceres on its way to Saturn, Jupiter , and the stations of the Belt, but
Miller hadnâ t been paying enough attention to the relative position of the
planets to know where the orbits all stood. Havelock shook his head.
âCorporate security rotating out of Eros,â he said. âProtogen, I think.â
A servin g girl appeared at Miller âs side, tattoos gliding over her skin, her
teeth glowing in the black light. Miller took the drink she offered him,
though he hadnâ t ordered. Soda water .
âYou know ,â Miller said, leanin g close enough to Havelock that even
his normal conversational voice would reach the man, âit doesnâ t matter
how many of their asses you kick. Shaddidâ s still not going to like you.â
Havelock snapp ed to stare at Miller , the anger in his eyes barely
covering the shame and hurt.
âItâs true,â Miller said.
Havelock rose lurching to his feet and headed for the door. He was
trying to stomp, but in the Ceres spin gravity and his inebriat ed state, he
misjudged. It looked like he was hopping. Miller , glass in hand, slid through
the crowd in Havelockâ s wake , calming with a smile and a shrug the
affronted faces that his partner left behind him.
The common tunnels down near the port had a layer of grim e and
grease to them that air scrubbers and astringent cleaners could never quite
master . Havelock walked out, shoulders hunched, mouth tight, rage
radiating from him like heat. But the doors of the Blue Frog closed behind
them, the seal cutting off the music like someone hitting mute. The worst of
the danger had passed.
âIâm not drunk,â Havelock said, his voice too loud.
âDidnâ t say you were.â
âAnd you,â Havelock said, turning and stabbing an accusing finger at
Miller âs chest. âY ou are not my nanny .â
âAlso true.â
They walked together for mayb e a quarter of a kilometer . The bright
LED signs beckoned. Brothels and shooting galleries, coffee bars and
poetry clubs, casinos and show fights. The air smelled like piss and old
food. Havelock began to slow, his shoulders coming down from around his
ears.
âI worked homicide in Terrytow n,â Havelock said. âI did three years
vice at L-5. Do you have any idea what that was like? They were shipping
kids out of there, and Iâm one of three guys that stopped it. Iâm a good cop.â
âYes, you are.â
âIâm damn good.â
âYou are.â
The Outsider's Burden
- Havelock struggles with his identity as an 'Earther' cop on a station where his professional competence is overshadowed by his origins.
- Miller explains that to the people of the Belt, the historical and political differences between Earth and Mars are irrelevant compared to their shared status as 'Inners.'
- The tension of the environment is highlighted by a near-confrontation with OPA members, illustrating the constant threat of violence against outsiders.
- Miller attempts to manage his partner's emotional breakdown by steering him toward a 'cop bar' to keep his vulnerability within the safety of the security community.
From this distance, you can cover Earth and Mars with one thumb.
They walked together for mayb e a quarter of a kilometer . The bright
LED signs beckoned. Brothels and shooting galleries, coffee bars and
poetry clubs, casinos and show fights. The air smelled like piss and old
food. Havelock began to slow, his shoulders coming down from around his
ears.
âI worked homicide in Terrytow n,â Havelock said. âI did three years
vice at L-5. Do you have any idea what that was like? They were shipping
kids out of there, and Iâm one of three guys that stopped it. Iâm a good cop.â
âYes, you are.â
âIâm damn good.â
âYou are.â
They walked past a noodle bar. A coffin hotel. A public terminal, its
displays running a free newsfeed: COMMUNICA TION PROBLEMS PLAGUE
PHOEBE SCIENCE STATION. NEW ANDREAS K GAME NETS 6 BILLION DOLLARS IN 4
HOURS. NO DEAL IN MARS, BELT TITANIUM CONTRACT . The screens glowed in
Havelockâ s eyes, but he was staring past them.
âIâm a damn good cop,â he said again. Then, a moment later: âSo what
the hell?â
âItâs not about you,â Miller said. âPeople look at you, they donât see
Dmitri Havelock, good cop. They see Earth.â
âThatâ s crap. I was eight years in the orbitals and on Mars before I ever
shipped out here. I worked on Earth maybe six months total.â
âEarth. Mars. Theyâre not that dif ferent,â Miller said.
âTry telling that to a Martian, â Havelock said with a bitter laugh.
âTheyâll kick your ass for you.â
âI didnât mean⌠Look, Iâm sure there are all kinds of differences.
Earth hates Mars for having a better fleet. Mars hates Earth for having a
bigger one. Maybe soccer âs better in full g; maybe itâs worse. I donât know .
Iâm just saying anyone this far out from the sun? They donât care. From this
distance, you can cover Earth and Mars with one thumb. AndâŚâ
âAnd I donâ t belong,â Havelock said.
The door of the noodle bar behind them opened and four Belters in
gray-green uniforms came out. One of them wore the split circle of the OPA
on his sleeve. Miller tensed, but the Belters didnâ t come toward them, and
Havelock didnâ t notice them. Near miss.
âI knew ,â Havelock said. âWhen I took the Star Helix contract, I knew
Iâd have to work to fit in. I thought itâd be the same as anywhere, you
know? You go, you get your chops busted for a while. Then, when they see
you can take it, they treat you like one of the team. Itâ s not like that here.â
âItâs not,â Miller said.
Havelock shook his head, spat, and stared at the fluted glass in his
hand.
âI think we just stole some glasses from the Blue Frog,â Havelock
said.
âWeâre also in a public corridor with unsealed alcohol,â Miller said.
âWell, you are, anyway . Mineâ s soda water .â
Havelock chuckled, but there was despair in the sound. When
Havelock spoke again, his voice was only rueful.
âYou think Iâm coming down here, picking fights with people from the
inner planets so that Shaddid and Ramachandra and all the rest of them will
think better of me.â
âIt occurred to me.â
âYouâre wrong,â Havelock said.
âOkay ,â Miller said. He knew he wasnâ t.
Havelock raised his fluted glass. âT ake these back?â he asked.
âHow about Distinguished Hyacinth?â Miller countered. âIâll buy .â
The Distinguish ed Hyacinth Lounge was up three levels, far enough
that foot traffic from the port levels was minimal. And it was a cop bar.
Mostly Star Helix Security , but some of the minor corpora te forcesâ
Protogen, Pinkwater , Al Abbiqâhung out there too. Miller was more than
half certain that his partner âs latest breakdown had been averted, but if he
was wrong, better to keep it in the family .
The dĂŠcor was pure Beltâold-style shipsâ folding tables and chairs set
into the wall and ceiling as if the gravity might shut off at any moment.
Snake plant and devilâ s ivyâstaples of first-generation air recyclingâ
decorated the wall and freestand ing columns. The music was soft enough to
talk over, loud enough to keep private conversations private. The first
A Bullshit Case and Emergency Orders
- Miller and Havelock retreat to a local bar run by the Liu family, where Miller adopts a 'bluff masculinity' to fit in with the Ceres security crowd.
- Havelock questions the ethics of Miller's new assignment, arguing that forcing an adult woman to return to her parents is a power game rather than law enforcement.
- The tension between the partners eases as they socialize with colleagues from homicide, seemingly averting Havelock's emotional breakdown.
- The night is abruptly interrupted when every security terminal in the bar chimes simultaneously with an emergency broadcast from Captain Shaddid.
The dĂŠcor was pure Beltâold-style shipsâ folding tables and chairs set into the wall and ceiling as if the gravity might shut off at any moment.
Protogen, Pinkwater , Al Abbiqâhung out there too. Miller was more than
half certain that his partner âs latest breakdown had been averted, but if he
was wrong, better to keep it in the family .
The dĂŠcor was pure Beltâold-style shipsâ folding tables and chairs set
into the wall and ceiling as if the gravity might shut off at any moment.
Snake plant and devilâ s ivyâstaples of first-generation air recyclingâ
decorated the wall and freestand ing columns. The music was soft enough to
talk over, loud enough to keep private conversations private. The first
owner , Javier Liu, was a struct ural engineer from Tycho whoâd come out
during the big spin and liked Ceres enough to stay. His grandch ildren ran it
now. Javier the Third was standing behind the bar, talking with half of the
vice and exploitation team. Miller led the way to a back table, nodding to
the men and women he knew as he passed. While heâd been careful and
diplomatic at the Blue Frog, he chose a bluff masculinity here. It was just as
much a pose.
âSo,â Havelock said as Javier âs daughter Kateâa fourth generation for
the same barâleft the table, Blue Frog glasses on her tray, âwhat is this
supersecret private investigation Shaddid put you on? Or is the lowly
Earther not supposed to know?â
âIs that what got to you?â Miller asked. âItâs nothing. Some
shareholders misplaced their daughter and want me to track her down, ship
her home. Itâ s a bullshit case.â
âSounds more like their backyar d,â Havelock said, nodding toward the
V and E crowd.
âKidâ s not a minor ,â Miller said. âItâ s a kidnap job.â
âAnd youâre good with that?â
Miller sat back. The ivy above them waved. Havelock waited, and
Miller had the uncomfortable sense that a table had just been turned.
âItâs my job,â Miller said.
âYeah, but weâre talking about an adult here, right? Itâs not like she
couldnâ t go back home if she wanted to be there. But instead her parents get
security to take her home whet her she wants to go or not. Thatâs not law
enforcement anymore. Itâs not even station security . Itâs just dysfunctional
families playing power games.â
Miller remembered the thin girl beside her racing pinnace. Her broad
smile.
âI told you it was a bullshit case,â Miller said.
Kate Liu returned to the table with a local beer and a glass of whiskey
on her tray. Miller was glad for the distraction. The beer was his. Light and
rich and just the faintest bit bitter . An ecology based on yeasts and
fermentation meant subtle brews.
Havelock was nursing his whiskey . Miller took it as a sign that he was
giving up on his bender . Nothing like being around the boys from the office
to take the charm out of losing control.
âHey , Miller! Havelock!â a familiar voice said. Yevgeny Cobb from
homicide. Miller waved him over, and the conversation turned to
homicideâ s bragging about the resolution of a particularly ugly case. Three
monthsâ work figuring out where the toxins came from ending with the
corpseâ s wife awarded the full insurance settlement and a gray-market
whore deported back to Eros.
By the end of the night, Havelock was laughing and trading jokes
along with the rest of them. If there was occasionally a narrowed glance or
a subtle dig, he took it in stride.
Miller was on his way up to the bar for another round when his
terminal chimed. And then, slowly throughout the bar, fifty other chimes
sounded. Miller felt his belly knot as he and every other security agent in
the place pulled out their terminals.
Captain Shaddid was on the broadcast screen. Her eyes were bleary
and filled with banked rage; she was the very picture of a wom an of power
wakened early from sleep.
âLadies and gentlemen,â she said. âWhatever youâre doing, drop it and
go to your stations for emer gency orders. W e have a situation.
âTen minutes ago, an unencryp ted, signed message came in from the
A Message from Saturn
- Captain Shaddid issues an emergency recall to all security agents after receiving a high-priority, unencrypted message from the direction of Saturn.
- The message features James Holden, an Earther in shock, whose broadcast threatens to cause widespread civil unrest once it hits the public network.
- On the Canterbury, Holden and his crew are ordered to return at high speed after discovering a mysterious thermal anomaly in deep space.
- The anomaly is described as a heat fluctuation that provides no radar or ladar return, suggesting it may be absorbing sensor energy.
- The crew considers using 'the juice,' a high-g drug cocktail, to sustain the intense acceleration required for their urgent extraction.
Miller felt his belly knot as he and every other security agent in the place pulled out their terminals.
terminal chimed. And then, slowly throughout the bar, fifty other chimes
sounded. Miller felt his belly knot as he and every other security agent in
the place pulled out their terminals.
Captain Shaddid was on the broadcast screen. Her eyes were bleary
and filled with banked rage; she was the very picture of a wom an of power
wakened early from sleep.
âLadies and gentlemen,â she said. âWhatever youâre doing, drop it and
go to your stations for emer gency orders. W e have a situation.
âTen minutes ago, an unencryp ted, signed message came in from the
rough direction of Saturn. We havenâ t confirmed it as true, but the signature
matches the keys on record. Iâve put a hold on it, but we can assume some
assholeâ s going to put it on the network, and the shit should hit the fan
about five minutes after that. If youâre in earshot of a civilian, turn off now.
For the rest of you, hereâ s what weâre up against.â
Shaddid moved to one side, tapping her system interface. The screen
went black. A moment later a manâ s face and shoulders appeared. He was in
an orange vacuum suit with the helmet off. An Earther , maybe in his early
thirties. Pale skin, blue eyes, dark short-cropped hair. Even before the man
opened his mouth, Miller saw the signs of shock and rage in his eyes and
the way he held his head forward.
âMy name,â the man said, âis James Holden.â
Chapter Five
Holden
Ten minutes at two g, and Holdenâ s head was already starting to ache. But
McDowell had called them home at all haste. The Canterbury was warming
up its massive drive. Holden didnâ t want to miss his ride.
âJim? W e may have a pr oblem out her e.â
âTalk to me.â
âBecca found something, and it is sufficiently weird to make my balls
creep up. W eâre getting the hell out of her e.â
âAlex, how long?â Holden asked for the third time in ten minutes.
âWeâre over an hour out. W ant to go on the juice?â Alex said.
Going on the juice was pilot-speak for a high-g burn that would knock
an unmedicated human unconscious. The juice was the cocktai l of drugs the
pilotâ s chair would inject into him to keep him conscious , alert, and
hopefully stroke-free when his body weighed five hundred kilos. Holden
had used the juice on multiple occasions in the navy , and coming down
afterward was unpleasant.
âNot unless we have to,â he said.
âWhat kind of weir d?â
âBecca, link him up. Jim, I want you seeing what weâr e seeing.â
Holden tongued a painkiller tab from his suitâs helmet and reran
Beccaâ s sensor feed for the fifth time. The spot in space lay about two
hundred thousand kilometers from the Canterbury . As the Cant had scanned
it, the readout showed a fluctuation, the gray-black false color gradually
developing a warm border . It was a small temperature climb, less than two
degrees. Holden was amazed Becca had even spotted it. He reminded
himself to give her a glowing review the next time she was up for
promotion.
âWher e did that come fr om?â Holden asked.
âNo idea. Itâs just a spot faintly warmer than the backgr ound,â Becca
said. âIâd say it was a cloud of gas, because we get no radar return from it,
but there arenât supposed to be any gas clouds out here. I mean, wher e
would it come fr om?â
âJim, any chanc e the Scopuli killed the ship that killed it? Could it be
a vapor cloud fr om a destr oyed ship?â McDowell asked.
âI donât think so, sir. The Scopuli is totally unarmed. The hole in her
side came from breaching charges, not torpedo fire, so I donât think they
even fought back. It might be wher e the Scopuli vented, butâŚâ
âOr maybe not. Come back to the barn, Jim. Do it now .â
âNaomi, what slowly gets hotter that gives no radar or ladar return when
you scan it? W ild-ass guess here,â Holden said.
âHmmmmâŚ,â Naomi said, giving herself time to think. âAnything
that was absorbing the energy from the sensor package wouldnât give a
return. But it might get hotter when it shed the absorbed ener gy.â
The Stealth Ship's Ambush
- Holden and Naomi deduce that the mysterious heat signature is a ship utilizing advanced energy-absorbing stealth materials.
- A frigate-sized vessel suddenly reveals itself and launches a spread of six high-speed torpedoes at the Canterbury.
- Captain McDowell orders Holden's shuttle to stay back as the Canterbury's crew prepares for an imminent impact in under eight minutes.
- The crew of the Knight attempts to assist the Canterbury via radio by suggesting jamming techniques and physical chaff to disrupt the incoming missiles.
âJesus H. Christ on a pogo stick, did that ship just fire a spread of torpedoes at us?â
âJim, any chanc e the Scopuli killed the ship that killed it? Could it be
a vapor cloud fr om a destr oyed ship?â McDowell asked.
âI donât think so, sir. The Scopuli is totally unarmed. The hole in her
side came from breaching charges, not torpedo fire, so I donât think they
even fought back. It might be wher e the Scopuli vented, butâŚâ
âOr maybe not. Come back to the barn, Jim. Do it now .â
âNaomi, what slowly gets hotter that gives no radar or ladar return when
you scan it? W ild-ass guess here,â Holden said.
âHmmmmâŚ,â Naomi said, giving herself time to think. âAnything
that was absorbing the energy from the sensor package wouldnât give a
return. But it might get hotter when it shed the absorbed ener gy.â
The infrared monitor on the sensor console next to Holdenâ s chair
flared like the sun. Alex swore loudly over the general comm.
âAre you seeinâ that?â he said.
Holden ignored him and opened a channel to McDowell.
âCaptain, we just got a massive IR spike,â Holden said.
For long seconds, there was no reply . When McDowell came on the
channel, his voice was tight. Holden had never heard the old man sound
afraid before.
âJim, a ship just appeared in that warm spot. Itâs radiating heat like a
bastard,â McDowell said. âWhere the hell did that thing come from?â
Holden started to answer but then heard Beccaâ s voice coming faintly
through the captainâ s headset. âNo idea, sir. But itâs smaller than its heat
signature. Radar shows frigate-sized,â she said.
âWith what?â McDowell said. âInvisibility? Magical wormhole
teleportation?â
âSir,â Holden said, âNaomi was speculating that the heat we picked up
might have come from energy-absorbing materials. Stealth materials.
Which means that ship was hiding on purpose. Which means its intentions
are not good.â
As if in answer , six new objects appeared on his radar , glowing yellow
icons appearing and immediate ly shifting to orange as the system marked
their acceleration. On the Canterbury , Becca yelled out, âFast movers! We
have six new high-speed contacts on a collision course!â
âJesus H. Christ on a pogo stick, did that ship just fire a spread of
torpedoes at us?â McDowell said. âTheyâre trying to slap us down?â
âYes, sir ,â Becca said.
âTime to contact.â
âJust under eight minutes, sir ,â she replied.
McDowell cursed under his breath.
âWeâve got pirates, Jim.â
âWhat do you need from us?â Holden said, trying to sound calm and
professional.
âI need you to get off the radio and let my crew work. Youâre an hour
out at best. The torpedoes are eight minutes. McDowell out,â the captain
said, his comm clicking off and leaving Holden listening to the faint hiss of
static.
The general comm exploded with voices, Alex demanding to go on the
juice and race the torpedoes to the Cant, Naomi chattering about missile-
jamming strateg ies, Amos cursing at the stealth ship and questioning the
parenting of its crew . Shed was the only quiet one.
âEveryone, shut up!â Holden yelled into his headset. The ship fell into
shocked silence. âAlex, plot the fastest course to the Cant that wonâ t kill us.
Let me know when you have it. Naomi, set up a three-way channel with
Becca, you, and me. Weâll help however we can. Amos, keep cussing but
turn your mic of f.â
He waited. The clock ticked toward impact.
âLink is up,â Naomi said. Holden could hear two distinct sets of
background noise over the comm channel.
âBecca, this is Jim. Iâve got Naomi on this channel too. Tell us what
we can do to help. Naomi was talking about jamming techniques?â
âIâm doing everything I know to do,â Becca said, her voice
astonishingly calm. âTheyâre painting us with a targeting laser. Iâm
broadcasting garbage to scrambl e it, but theyâve got really , really good shit.
If we were any closer , that targeting laser would be burning a hole in our
hull.â
âWhat about physical chaf f?â Naomi asked. âCan you drop snow?â
High-G Desperation
- The crew of the Knight attempts to jam the targeting lasers of incoming missiles aimed at the Canterbury.
- Naomi proposes a risky decoy maneuver to draw the torpedoes away, but Holden dismisses it as a suicide mission that wouldn't fool the missiles' sensors.
- With no viable tactical options left, the crew prepares for a high-acceleration 'burn-and-flip' to reach the ship before it is destroyed.
- Holden and the crew undergo a painful chemical injection process to survive the extreme gravitational forces of the emergency flight.
A dozen needles stuck into his back through membranes in his suit. His heart shuddered and chemical bands of iron gripped his brain.
background noise over the comm channel.
âBecca, this is Jim. Iâve got Naomi on this channel too. Tell us what
we can do to help. Naomi was talking about jamming techniques?â
âIâm doing everything I know to do,â Becca said, her voice
astonishingly calm. âTheyâre painting us with a targeting laser. Iâm
broadcasting garbage to scrambl e it, but theyâve got really , really good shit.
If we were any closer , that targeting laser would be burning a hole in our
hull.â
âWhat about physical chaf f?â Naomi asked. âCan you drop snow?â
While Naomi and Becca talked, Jim opened a private channel to Ade.
âHey , this is Jim. I have Alex working on a fast-burn solution so we can get
there beforeâŚâ
âBefore the missiles turn us into a flying brick? Good idea. Taken by
pirates isnât something you want to miss,â Ade said. He could hear the fear
behind the mocking tone.
âAde, please, I want to say somethingââ
âJim, what do you think?â Naomi said on the other channel.
Holden cursed. T o cover , he said, âUh, about which thing?â
âUsing the Knight to try and draw those missiles,â Naomi said.
âCan we do that?â he asked.
âMaybe. W ere you listening at all?â
âAh⌠something happened here, drew my attention for a minute. Tell
me again,â Holden said.
âWe try to match the frequency of the light scatter coming off the Cant
and broadcast it with our comm array . Maybe the torpedoes will think weâre
the tar get instead,â Naomi said like she was speaking to a child.
âAnd then they come blow us up?â
âIâm thinking we run away while pulling the torpedoes toward us.
Then, when we get them far enough past the Cant, we kill the comm array
and try to hide behind the asteroid,â Naomi said.
âWonât work,â Holden said with a sigh. âThey follow the targeting
laser âs scatter for general guidance, but they also take telescope shots of the
target on acquisition. Theyâll take one look at us and know we arenâ t their
target.â
âIsnâ t it worth a shot?â
âEven if we manage it, torpedoes designed to disable the Cant would
make us into a greasy stretch of vacuum.â
âAll right,â Naomi said. âWhat else have we got?â
âNothing. Very smart boys in the naval labs have already thought of
everything we are going to think of in the next eight minutes,â Holden said.
Saying it out loud meant admitting it to himself.
âThen what are we doing here, Jim?â Naomi asked.
âSeven minutes,â Becca said, her voice still eerily calm.
âLetâ s get there. Maybe we can get some people off the ship after itâs
hit. Help with damage control,â Holden said. âAlex, got that plot figured
out?â
âRoger that, XO. Bleeding-g burn-and-flip laid in. Angled approach
course so our torch wonâ t burn a hole in the Cant. Time to rock and roll?â
Alex replied.
âYeah. Naomi, get your people strapped in for high g,â Holden said,
then opened up a channel to Captain McDowell. âCaptain, weâre coming in
hot. Try to survive, and weâll have the Knight on station for pickup or to
help with damage control.â
âRoger ,â McDowell said, and killed the line.
Holden opened up his channel to Ade again. âAde, weâre going to burn
hard, so I wonâ t be talking, but leave this channel open for me, okay? Tell
me whatâs happ ening. Hell, hum. Humming is nice. I just really need to
hear youâre all right.â
âOkay , Jim,â Ade said. She didnât hum but she left the channel open.
He could hear her breathing.
Alex began the countdown over the general comm. Holden checked
the straps on his crash couch and palmed the button that started the juice. A
dozen needles stuck into his back through membranes in his suit. His heart
shuddered and chemical bands of iron gripped his brain. His spine went
dead cold, and his face flushed like a radiation burn. He pounde d a fist into
the arm of the crash couch. He hated this part, but the next one was worse.
On the general comm, Alex whooped as the drugs hit his system.
Belowdecks, the others were getting the drugs that kept them from dying
The Canterbury's Last Stand
- Holden and the crew of the Knight endure the agonizing physical toll of 'the juice' to survive high-G acceleration.
- Captain McDowell orders a desperate maximum burn of the Canterbury's Epstein drive, which results in structural failure and a torn drive strut.
- With the drive offline and torpedoes closing in at forty kilometers per second, the Canterbury is left defenseless against the incoming strike.
- McDowell orders Holden to hide the Knight behind an asteroid and broadcast an SOS to ensure there are witnesses to the impending attack.
His heart shuddered and chemical bands of iron gripped his brain.
the straps on his crash couch and palmed the button that started the juice. A
dozen needles stuck into his back through membranes in his suit. His heart
shuddered and chemical bands of iron gripped his brain. His spine went
dead cold, and his face flushed like a radiation burn. He pounde d a fist into
the arm of the crash couch. He hated this part, but the next one was worse.
On the general comm, Alex whooped as the drugs hit his system.
Belowdecks, the others were getting the drugs that kept them from dying
but kept them sedated through the worst of it.
Alex said, âOne,â and Holden weighed five hundred kilos. The nerves
at the back of his eye sockets screamed at the massive load of his eyeballs.
His testicles crushed themselves against his thighs. He concentrated on not
swallowing his tongue. Around him, the ship creaked and groaned. There
was a disconcer ting bang from belowdecks, but nothing on his panel went
red. The Knight âs torch drive could deliver a lot of thrust, but at the cost of
a prodig ious fuel-burn rate. But if they could save the Cant, it wouldnâ t
matter .
Over the blood pounding in his ears, Holden could hear Adeâ s gentle
breathing and the click of her keyboard. He wished he could just go to sleep
to that sound, but the juice was singing and burning in his blood. He was
more awake than heâd ever been.
âYes, sir ,â Ade said over the comm.
It took Holden a second to realize she was talking to McDow ell. He
turned up the volume to hear what the captain was saying.
ââthe mains online, full power .â
âWeâre fully loaded, sir. If we try to burn that hard, weâll tear the drive
right off the mounts,â Ade replied. McDowell must have asked her to fire
up the Epstein.
âMr. Tukunbo,â McDowell said, âwe have⌠four minutes. If you
break it, I wonâ t bill you.â
âYes, sir. Bringing mains onlin e. Setting for maximum burn,â Ade
said, and in the background Holden could hear the high-g warning Klaxon.
There was a louder clicking as Ade strapped herself in.
âMains online in three⌠two⌠one⌠execute,â Ade said.
The Canterbury groaned so loud Holden had to turn the comm volume
down. It moaned and shrieked like a banshee for several secon ds, and then
there was a shattering crash. He pulled up the exterior visual, fighting
against the g-induced blackout at the edge of his vision. The Canterbury
was in one piece.
âAde, what the hell was that?â McDowell said, his speech slurred.
âThe drive tearing a strut. Mains are off-line, sir,â Ade replied, not
saying Exactly like I said would happen.
âWhat did that buy us?â McDowell asked.
âNot much. The torpedoes are now at over forty klicks a second and
accelerating. W eâre down to maneuvering thrusters,â Ade said.
âShit,â McDowell said.
âTheyâre going to hit us, sir ,â Ade said.
âJim,â McDowe ll said, his voice suddenly loud over the direct channel
heâd opened. âWeâre going down, and thereâ s no way around it. Click twice
to acknowledge.â
Jim clicked his radio twice.
âOkay , so, now we need to think about surviving after the hit. If
theyâre looking to cripple us before boarding, theyâll take out our drive and
our comm array . Beccaâ s been broadcasting an SOS ever since the
torpedoes were fired, but Iâd like you to keep yelling if we stop. If they
know youâre out there, they are less likely to toss everyone out an airlock.
Witnesses, you know ,â McDowell said.
Jim clicked twice again.
âTurn around, Jim. Hide behind that asteroid. Call for help. Order .â
Jim clicked twice, then signale d all-stop to Alex. In an instant, the
giant sitting on his chest disappeared, replaced by weightlessness. The
sudden transition would have made him throw up if his veins hadnâ t been
coursing with antinausea drugs.
âWhatâ s up?â Alex said.
âNew job,â Holden said, teeth chattering from the juice. âW eâre calling
The Death of the Canterbury
- Holden and the crew of the Knight attempt to hide behind an asteroid as the Canterbury is targeted by torpedoes.
- The crew prepares for a potential boarding and prisoner negotiation, assuming the attackers want the ship's cargo.
- The Canterbury is unexpectedly destroyed by nuclear weapons, killing everyone on board including Holden's lover, Ade.
- Holden realizes the attack was not a standard act of piracy but a mass murder, changing their mission to one of witnessing and survival.
Sheâs a cloud of vapor the size of Olympus Mons. Sheâs gone, Boss. Sheâs gone.
Jim clicked his radio twice.
âOkay , so, now we need to think about surviving after the hit. If
theyâre looking to cripple us before boarding, theyâll take out our drive and
our comm array . Beccaâ s been broadcasting an SOS ever since the
torpedoes were fired, but Iâd like you to keep yelling if we stop. If they
know youâre out there, they are less likely to toss everyone out an airlock.
Witnesses, you know ,â McDowell said.
Jim clicked twice again.
âTurn around, Jim. Hide behind that asteroid. Call for help. Order .â
Jim clicked twice, then signale d all-stop to Alex. In an instant, the
giant sitting on his chest disappeared, replaced by weightlessness. The
sudden transition would have made him throw up if his veins hadnâ t been
coursing with antinausea drugs.
âWhatâ s up?â Alex said.
âNew job,â Holden said, teeth chattering from the juice. âW eâre calling
for help and negotiating a relea se of prisoners once the bad guys have the
Cant. Burn back to that asteroid, since itâ s the closest we can get to cover .â
âRoger that, Boss,â Alex said. He added in a lower voice, âIâd kill for
a couple of tubes or a nice keel-mounted rail gun right now .â
âI hear you.â
âWake up the kids downstairs?â
âLet them sleep.â
âRoger that,â Alex said, then clicked of f.
Before the heavy g started up again, Holden turned on the Knight âs
SOS. The chann el to Ade was still open, and now that McDowell was off
the line, he could hear her breathing again. He turned the volume all the
way up and lay back in the straps, waiting to be crushed. Alex didnâ t
disappoint him.
âOne minute,â Ade said, her voice loud enough to distort through his
helmetâ s speakers. Holden didnât turn the volume down. Her voice was
admirably calm as she called out the impact countdown.
âThirty seconds.â
Holden wanted desperately to talk, to say something comforting, to
make ludicrous and untrue assertions of love. The giant standing on his
chest just laughed with the deep rumble of their fusion torch.
âTen seconds.â
âGet ready to kill the reactor and play dead after the torpedoes hit. If
weâre not a threat, they wonâ t hit us again,â McDowell said.
âFive,â Ade said.
âFour .
âThree.
âTwo.
âOne.â
The Canterbury shuddered and the monitor went white. Ade took one
sharp intake of breath, which cut off as the radio broke up. The static squeal
almost ruptured Holdenâ s eardrums. He chinned the volume down and
clicked his radio at Alex.
The thrust sudd enly dropped to a tolerable two g and all the shipâ s
sensors flared into overload. A brilliant light poured through the small
airlock porthole.
âReport, Alex, report! What happened?â Holden yelled.
âMy God. They nuked her. They nuked the Cant, â Alex said, his voice
low and dazed.
âWhatâ s her status? Give me a report on the Canterbury ! I have zero
sensors down here. Everythingâ s just gone white!â
There was a long pause; then Alex said, âI have zero sensors up here
too, Boss. But I can give you a status on the Cant. I can see her .â
âSee her? From here?â
âYeah. Sheâs a cloud of vapor the size of Olympus Mons. Sheâs gone,
Boss. Sheâ s gone.â
That canât be right, Holdenâ s mind protested. That doesnâ t happen.
Pirates donâ t nuke water haulers. No one wins. No one gets paid. And if you
just want to murder fifty people, walking into a restaurant with a machine
gun is a lot easier .
He wanted to shout it, scream at Alex that he was wrong. But he had to
keep it together . Iâm the old man now .
âAll right. New mission, Alex. Now weâre witnesses to murder . Get us
back to that asteroid. Iâll start compiling a broadcast. Wake everyone up.
They need to know ,â Holden said. âIâm rebooting the sensor package.â
He methodically shut down the sensors and their software, waited two
minutes, then slowly brought them back online. His hands were shaking. He
The Canterbury's Ghost
- Holden struggles to process the illogical destruction of the Canterbury, noting that pirates have no financial incentive to nuke a water hauler.
- After rebooting the Knight's radiation-hardened sensors, Holden confirms that nothing larger than a softball remains of his former ship.
- Consumed by rage, Holden transmits the personal dossiers and photos of the fifty deceased crew members to the retreating attackers.
- The stealth ship briefly targets the Knight with a laser before accelerating away, leaving the traumatized survivors to face their new reality.
- The crew experiences a mix of shock and grief, with Shed lamenting a patient's unfinished medical treatment as the weight of their loss sets in.
Aneurysm-inducing rage made his temples pound and his fists squeeze until his tendons hurt.
That canât be right, Holdenâ s mind protested. That doesnâ t happen.
Pirates donâ t nuke water haulers. No one wins. No one gets paid. And if you
just want to murder fifty people, walking into a restaurant with a machine
gun is a lot easier .
He wanted to shout it, scream at Alex that he was wrong. But he had to
keep it together . Iâm the old man now .
âAll right. New mission, Alex. Now weâre witnesses to murder . Get us
back to that asteroid. Iâll start compiling a broadcast. Wake everyone up.
They need to know ,â Holden said. âIâm rebooting the sensor package.â
He methodically shut down the sensors and their software, waited two
minutes, then slowly brought them back online. His hands were shaking. He
was nauseated. His body felt like he was operating his flesh from a distance,
and he didnâ t know how much was the juice and how much was shock.
The sensors came back up. Like any other ship that flew the space
lanes, the Knight was hardened against radiation. You couldnâ t get
anywhere near Jupiter âs massive radiation belt unless you were. But Holden
doubted the shipâ s designers had half a dozen nuclear weapon s going off
nearby in mind when theyâd created the specs. Theyâd gotten lucky .
Vacuum might protect them from an electromagnetic pulse, but the blast
radiation could still have fried every sensor the ship had.
Once the array came back up, he scanned the space where the
Canterbury had been. There was nothing larger than a softball. He switched
over to the ship that killed it, which was flying off sunward at a leisurely
one g. Heat bloomed in Holdenâ s chest.
He wasnâ t scared. Aneurysm-inducing rage made his temples pound
and his fists squeeze until his tendons hurt. He flipped on the comms and
aimed a tightbeam at the retreating ship.
âThis message is to whoever ordered the destruction of the
Canterbury , the civilian ice freighter that you just blew into gas. You donât
get to just fly away, you murderous son of a bitch. I donât care what your
reasons are, but you just killed fifty friends of mine. You need to know who
they were. I am sending to you the name and photograph of everyone who
just died in that ship. Take a good look at what you did. Think about that
while I work on finding out who you are.â
He closed the voice channel, pulled up the Canterbury âs personnel
files, and began transmitting the crew dossiers to the other ship.
âWhat are you doing?â asked Naomi from behind him, not from his
helmet speakers.
She was standing there with her helmet off. Sweat plastered her thick
black hair to her head and neck . Her face was unreadable. Holden took off
his helmet.
âIâm showing them the Canterbury was a real place where real people
lived. People with names and families,â he said, the juice makin g his voice
less steady than he would have liked. âIf thereâ s something resembling a
human being giving the orders on that ship, I hope it haunts him right up to
the day they put him in the recycler for murder .â
âI donât think they appreciate it,â Naomi said, pointing at the panel
behind him.
The enem y ship was now painting them with its targeting laser. Holden
held his breath. No torpedoes launched, and after a few seconds, the stealth
ship turned off its laser and the engine flared as it scooted off at high g. He
heard Naomi let out a shuddering breath.
âSo the Canterbury âs gone?â Naomi asked.
Holden nodded.
âFuck me sideways,â said Amos.
Amos and Shed stood together at the crew ladder . Amosâ face was
mottled red and white, and his big hands clenched and unclenched. Shed
collapsed to his knees, slamming against the deck in the heavy two-g thrust.
He didnât cry. He just looked at Holden and said, âCameronâ s never going
to get that arm, I guess,â then buried his head in his hands and shook.
âSlow down, Alex. No need to run now,â Holden said into the comm.
The ship slowly dropped to one g.
âWhat now, Captain?â Naomi said, looking at him hard. Youâre in
Aftermath of the Canterbury
- The crew of the Knight reels from the destruction of the Canterbury as the mysterious stealth ship retreats.
- Holden and Naomi clash over their next move, with Naomi demanding they prioritize crew safety over a pursuit of the attackers.
- Alex reveals that the stealth technology used in the attack is likely military-grade, pointing toward Earth or Mars involvement.
- Holden prepares a broadcast package of sensor data to expose the truth of the attack to the rest of the solar system.
They looked at each other across the narrow space, the implications heavier than a ten-g burn.
behind him.
The enem y ship was now painting them with its targeting laser. Holden
held his breath. No torpedoes launched, and after a few seconds, the stealth
ship turned off its laser and the engine flared as it scooted off at high g. He
heard Naomi let out a shuddering breath.
âSo the Canterbury âs gone?â Naomi asked.
Holden nodded.
âFuck me sideways,â said Amos.
Amos and Shed stood together at the crew ladder . Amosâ face was
mottled red and white, and his big hands clenched and unclenched. Shed
collapsed to his knees, slamming against the deck in the heavy two-g thrust.
He didnât cry. He just looked at Holden and said, âCameronâ s never going
to get that arm, I guess,â then buried his head in his hands and shook.
âSlow down, Alex. No need to run now,â Holden said into the comm.
The ship slowly dropped to one g.
âWhat now, Captain?â Naomi said, looking at him hard. Youâre in
charge now . Act like it.
âBlowing them out of the sky would be my first choice, but since we
donât have the weapons⌠follo w them. Keep our eyes on them until we
know where theyâre going. Expose them to everyone,â Holden replied.
âFuckinâ A,â said Amos loudly .
âAmos,â Naomi said over her shoulder , âtake Shed below and get him
into a couch. If you need to, give him something to put him to sleep.â
âYou got it, Boss.â Amos put a thick arm around Shedâ s waist and took
him below .
When he was gone, Naomi turned back to Holden.
âNo, sir. We are not chasing that ship. We are going to call for help,
and then go wherever the help tells us to go.â
âIââ Holden started.
âYes, youâre in charge. That makes me XO, and itâs the XOâs job to
tell the captain when heâs being an idiot. Youâre being an idiot, sir. You
already tried to goad them into killing us with that broadcast. Now you
want to chase them? And what will you do if they let you catch them?
Broadcast anoth er emotional plea?â Naomi said, moving closer to him.
âYou are going to get the rema ining four members of your crew to safety .
And thatâ s all. When weâre safe, you can go on your crusade. Sir .â
Holden unbuckl ed the straps on his couch and stood up. The juice was
starting to burn out, leaving his body spent and sickened. Naomi lifted her
chin and didnâ t back up.
âGlad youâre with me, Naomi,â he said. âGo see to the crew .
McDowell gave me one last order .â
Naomi looked him over critical ly; he could see her distrust. He didnâ t
defend himself; he just waited until she was done. She nodded at him once
and climbed down the ladder to the deck below .
Once she was gone, he worked methodically , putting together a
broadcast packa ge that included all the sensor data from the Canterbury and
the Knight. Alex climbed down from the cockpit and sat down heavily in
the next chair .
âYou know , Captain, Iâve been thinkinâ,â he said. His voice had the
same post-juice shakes as Holdenâ s own.
Holden bit back his irritation at the interruption and said, âWhat
about?â
âThat stealth ship.â
Holden turned away from his work.
âTell me.â
âSo, I donâ t know any pirates that have shit like that.â
âGo on.â
âIn fact, the only time Iâve seen tech like that was back when I was in
the navy ,â Alex said. âWe were working on ships with energy-absorbing
skins and internal heat sinks. More of a strategic weapon than a tactical one.
You canât hide an active drive, but if you can get into position and shut the
drive down, store all your waste heat internally , you can hide yourself pretty
good. Add in the energy-absorbing skin, and radar , ladar , and passive
sensors donât pick you up. Plus, pretty tough to get nuclear torpedoes
outside of the military .â
âYouâre saying the Martian navy did this?â
Alex took a long shuddering breath.
âIf we had it, you know the Earthers were workinâ on it too,â he said.
They looked at each other across the narrow space, the impli cations
heavier than a ten-g burn. Holden pulled the transmitter and battery theyâd
The Spark of War
- Holden and Alex discover a battery stamped with 'MCRN' inside the transmitter used to lure the Canterbury into a trap.
- Believing the Martian navy is responsible for the ship's destruction, Holden broadcasts a system-wide message accusing Mars of the attack.
- On Ceres Station, Detective Miller recognizes the broadcast as a catastrophic political event that effectively declares war on Mars.
- Miller highlights the fundamental cultural divide between 'Earthers' like his partner Havelock and 'Belters' who live in constant fear of resource scarcity.
- The revelation of stealth technology suggests a level of military sophistication that threatens the fragile peace of the solar system.
They looked at each other across the narrow space, the implications heavier than a ten-g burn.
skins and internal heat sinks. More of a strategic weapon than a tactical one.
You canât hide an active drive, but if you can get into position and shut the
drive down, store all your waste heat internally , you can hide yourself pretty
good. Add in the energy-absorbing skin, and radar , ladar , and passive
sensors donât pick you up. Plus, pretty tough to get nuclear torpedoes
outside of the military .â
âYouâre saying the Martian navy did this?â
Alex took a long shuddering breath.
âIf we had it, you know the Earthers were workinâ on it too,â he said.
They looked at each other across the narrow space, the impli cations
heavier than a ten-g burn. Holden pulled the transmitter and battery theyâd
recovered from the Scopuli out of the thigh pocket of his suit. He started
pulling it apart, looking for a stamp or an insignia. Alex watched, quiet for
once. The transm itter was generic; it could have come from the radio room
of any ship in the solar system. The battery was a nondescript gray block.
Alex reached out and Holden handed it to him. Alex pried off the gray
plastic cover and flipped the metal battery around in his hands. Without
saying a word, he held the bottom up to Holdenâ s face. Stam ped in the
black metal on the bottom of the battery was a serial number that began
with the letters MCRN.
Martian Congr essional Republic Navy .
The radio was set to broadcast on full power . The data package was ready to
transmit. Holden stood in front of the camera, leaning a little forward.
âMy name is James Holden,â he said, âand my ship, the Canterbury ,
was just destroy ed by a warship with stealth technology and what appear to
be parts stamped with Martian navy serial numbers. Data stream to follow .â
Chapter Six
Miller
The cart sped through the tunnel, siren masking the whine of motors.
Behind them, they left curiou s civilians and the scent of overheated
bearings. Miller leaned forward in his seat, willing the cart to go faster .
They were three levels and maybe four kilometers from the station house.
âOkay ,â Havelock said. âIâm sorry , but Iâm missing something here.â
âWhat?â Miller said. He meant What are you yammering about?
Havelock took it as What ar e you missing?
âA water hauler millions of klicks from here got vaporized. Why are
we going to full alert? Our cisterns will last months without even going on
rationing. There are a lot of other haulers out there. Why is this a crisis?â
Miller turned and looked at his partner straight on. The small, stocky
build. The thick bones from a childhood in full g. Just like the asshole in the
transmission. They didnâ t under stand. If Havelock had been in this James
Holdenâ s place, he might have done the same stupid, irresponsible, idiotic
bullshit. For the space of a breath, they werenâ t security anymore. They
werenâ t partners . They were a Belter and an Earther . Miller looked away
before Havelock could see the change in his eyes.
âThat prick Holden? The one in the broadcast?â Miller said. âHe just
declared war on Mars for us.â
The cart swerved and bobbed, its internal computer adjusting for some
virtual hiccup in the traffic flow half a kilometer ahead. Havelock shifted,
grabbing for the support strut. They hit a ramp up to the next level, civilians
on foot making a path for them.
âYou grew up where the water âs maybe dirty, but it falls out of the sky
for you,â Miller said. âThe airâs filthy , but itâs not going away if your door
seals fail. Itâ s not like that out here.â
âBut weâre not on the hauler . We donât need the ice. We arenâ t under
threat,â Havelock said.
Miller sighed, rubbing his eyes with thumb and knuckle until ghosts of
false color bloomed.
âWhen I was homicide,â Miller said, âthere was this guy. Property
management specialist working a contract out of Luna. Someone burned
half his skin off and dropped him out an airlock. Turned out he was
responsible for maintenance on sixty holes up on level thirty . Lousy
The Belt's Selective Survival
- Miller explains the harsh reality of life in the Belt, where environmental maintenance is a matter of survival rather than just a job.
- Havelock challenges Miller's perspective, labeling the idea of Belter environmental obsession as a form of dehumanizing racist propaganda.
- The transmission from Holden regarding the Martian battery has reached the public, sparking immediate tension and fear of war.
- Captain Shaddid prepares the security forces for imminent civil unrest and rioting as the station reacts to the news.
Some people need to die, and he was one.
grabbing for the support strut. They hit a ramp up to the next level, civilians
on foot making a path for them.
âYou grew up where the water âs maybe dirty, but it falls out of the sky
for you,â Miller said. âThe airâs filthy , but itâs not going away if your door
seals fail. Itâ s not like that out here.â
âBut weâre not on the hauler . We donât need the ice. We arenâ t under
threat,â Havelock said.
Miller sighed, rubbing his eyes with thumb and knuckle until ghosts of
false color bloomed.
âWhen I was homicide,â Miller said, âthere was this guy. Property
management specialist working a contract out of Luna. Someone burned
half his skin off and dropped him out an airlock. Turned out he was
responsible for maintenance on sixty holes up on level thirty . Lousy
neighborhood. Heâd been cutting corners. Hadnâ t replaced the air filters in
three months. There was mold growing in three of the units. And you know
what we found after that?â
âWhat?â Havelock asked.
âNot a goddamn thing, because we stopped looking. Some people need
to die, and he was one. And the next guy that took the job cleaned the
ducting and swapped the filters on schedule. Thatâ s what itâs like in the
Belt. Anyone who came out here and didnâ t put environmental systems
above everything else died young. All us still out here are the ones that
cared.â
âSelective effect?â Havelock said. âYouâre seriously arguing in favor
of selective ef fect? I never thought Iâd hear that shit coming out of you.â
âWhatâ s that?â
âRacist propaga nda bullshit,â Havelock said. âItâs the one that says the
difference in environment has changed the Belters so much that instead of
just being a bunch of skinny obsessive-compulsives, they arenât really
human anymore.â
âIâm not saying that,â Miller said, suspecting that it was exactly what
he was saying. âItâs just that Belters donât take the long view when you
screw with basic resources. That water was future air, propellant mass, and
potables for us. W e have no sense of humor about that shit.â
The cart hit a ramp of metalwork grate. The lower level fell away
below them. Havelock was silent.
âThis Holden guy didnâ t say it was Mars. Just that they found a
Martian battery . You think people are going to⌠declare war?â Havelock
said. âJust on the basis of this one guyâ s pictures of a battery?â
âThe ones that wait to get the whole story arenâ t our problem.â
At least not tonight, he thought. Once the whole story gets out, weâll
see wher e we stand.
The station house was somewhere between one-half and three-quarters
full. Security men stood in clum ps, nodding to each other , eyes narrow and
jaws tight. One of the vice cops laughed at something, his amusement loud,
forced, smelling of fear. Miller saw the change in Havelock as they walked
across the common area to their desks. Havelock had been able to put
Miller âs reaction down to one manâ s being oversensitive. A whole room,
though. A whole station house . By the time they reached their chairs,
Havelockâ s eyes were wide.
Captain Shaddid came in. The bleary look was gone. Her hair was
pulled back, her uniform crisp and professional, her voice as calm as a
surgeon in a battlefield hospital. She stepped up on the first desk she came
to, improvising a pulpit.
âLadies and gentlemen,â she said. âYouâve seen the transmission. Any
questions?â
âWho let that fucking Earther near a radio?â someone shouted. Miller
saw Havelock laugh along with the crowd, but it didnâ t reach his eyes.
Shaddid scowled and the crowd quieted.
âHereâ s the situation,â she said. âNo way we can control this
information. It was broadcast everywhere. We have five sites on the internal
network that have been mirroring it, and we have to assume itâs public
knowledge starti ng ten minutes ago. Our job now is to keep the rioting to a
minimum and ensure station integrity around the port. Station houses fifty
Station on the Brink
- A broadcast regarding an Earther has gone viral, forcing station security to prepare for imminent civil unrest and rioting.
- The governor has issued a controversial directive forbidding the proactive detention of known OPA agents despite the rising tension.
- Government offices have physically sealed themselves off from the rest of the station, even disconnecting from the shared environmental and air systems.
- Miller sidelines his partner Havelock because Havelock's status as an Earther makes him a target and a liability during the coming conflict.
Theyâve broken off from the main environmental systems, so we arenât even breathing their air right now.
âWho let that fucking Earther near a radio?â someone shouted. Miller
saw Havelock laugh along with the crowd, but it didnâ t reach his eyes.
Shaddid scowled and the crowd quieted.
âHereâ s the situation,â she said. âNo way we can control this
information. It was broadcast everywhere. We have five sites on the internal
network that have been mirroring it, and we have to assume itâs public
knowledge starti ng ten minutes ago. Our job now is to keep the rioting to a
minimum and ensure station integrity around the port. Station houses fifty
and two thirteen are helping on it too. The port authority has released all the
ships with inner planet registry . That doesnâ t mean theyâre all gone. They
still have to round up their crews. But it does mean theyâre going.â
âThe government of fices?â Miller said, loud enough to carry .
âNot our problem, thank God,â Shaddid said. âThey have
infrastructure in place. Blast doors are already down and sealed. Theyâve
broken off from the main environmental systems, so we arenâ t even
breathing their air right now .â
âWell, thatâs a relief,â Yevgen y said from the cluster of homicide
detectives.
âNow the bad news,â Shaddid said. Miller heard the silenc e of a
hundred and fifty cops holding their breath. âWeâve got eighty known OPA
agents on the station. Theyâre all employed and legal, and you know this is
the kind of thing theyâve been waiting for. We have an order from the
governor that weâre not going to do any proactive detention. No one gets
arrested until they do something.â
Angry voices rose in chorus.
âWho does he think he is?â someone called from the back. Shaddid
snapped at the comment like a shark.
âThe governor is the one who contracted with us to keep this station in
working order ,â Shaddid said. âW eâll follow his directives.â
In his peripheral vision, Miller saw Havelock nod. He wondered what
the gove rnor thought of the question of Belter independence. Maybe the
OPA werenât the only ones whoâd been waiting for something like this to
happen. Shaddi d went on, outlining the security response they were
permitted. Mille r listened with half an ear, so lost in specula ting on the
politics behind the situation he almost missed it when Shaddi d called his
name.
âMiller will take the second team to the port level and cover sectors
thirteen through twenty-four . Kasagawa, team three, twenty-five through
thirty-six, and so on. Thatâ s twenty men apiece, except for Miller .â
âI can make it with nineteen,â Miller said, then quietly to Havelock,
âYouâre sitting this one out, partner . Having an Earther with a gun out there
isnât going to make things better .â
âYeah,â Havelock said. âSaw that coming.â
âOkay ,â Shaddid said. âY ou all know the drill. Letâ s move.â
Miller rounded up his riot squad. All the faces were familiar , all men
and women heâd worked with over his years in security . He organized them
in his mind with a nearly automatic efficiency . Brown and Gelbfish both
had SWAT experience, so they would lead the wings if it came to crowd
control. Aberforth had three write-ups for excessive violence since her kid
had been busted for drug runnin g on Ganymede, so she was second string.
She could work out her anger -management issues another time. Around the
station house, he heard the other squad commanders making similar
decisions.
âOkay ,â Miller said. âLetâ s suit up.â
They moved away in a group, heading for the equipment bay. Miller
paused. Havelo ck remained leaning against his desk, arms folded, eyes
locked on the middle distance. Miller was torn between sympathy for the
man and impatience. It was hard being on the team but not on the team. On
the other hand, what the hell had he expected, taking a contract in the Belt?
Havelock looked up, meeting Miller âs gaze. They nodded to each other .
Miller was the first to turn away .
The equipment bay was part warehouse, part bank vault, designed by
Escalation on Ceres Station
- Detective Miller and his team discover that the station's riot gear lockers have been completely emptied, leaving them vulnerable during a crisis.
- Captain Shaddid orders the squads to arm themselves with lethal SWAT equipment instead of non-lethal crowd control gear.
- The shift from intimidation tactics to lethal force signals a dangerous change in the security mandate on the station.
- While patrolling the docks, Miller and his squad encounter a large, screaming mob, indicating that civil order is rapidly collapsing.
Riot gear was meant to intimidate and control. SWAT gear was made to kill with the greatest efficiency possible.
They moved away in a group, heading for the equipment bay. Miller
paused. Havelo ck remained leaning against his desk, arms folded, eyes
locked on the middle distance. Miller was torn between sympathy for the
man and impatience. It was hard being on the team but not on the team. On
the other hand, what the hell had he expected, taking a contract in the Belt?
Havelock looked up, meeting Miller âs gaze. They nodded to each other .
Miller was the first to turn away .
The equipment bay was part warehouse, part bank vault, designed by
someone more concerned with conserving space than getting things out
efficiently . The lightsârecessed white LEDsâgave the gray walls a sterile
cast. Bare stone echoed every voice and footfall. Banks of ammunition and
firearms, eviden ce bags and test panels, spare servers and replacement
uniforms lined the walls and filled most of the interior space. The riot gear
was in a side room, in gray steel lockers with high-security electronic locks.
The standard outfit consisted of high-impact plastic shields, electric batons,
shin guards, bullet-resistant chest and thigh armor , and helmets with
reinforced face guardsâall of it designed to make a handfu l of station
security into an intimidating, inhuman force.
Miller keyed in his access code. The seals released; the lockers
opened.
âWell,â Miller said conversationally . âFuck me.â
The lockers were empty , gray coffins with the corpses all gone. Across
the room, he heard one of the other squads shouting in outrage. Miller
systematically opened every riot control locker he could get to. All of them
were the same. Shaddid appeared at his side, her face pale with rage.
âWhatâ s plan B?â Miller asked.
Shaddid spat on the floor , then closed her eyes. They shifted under her
lids like she was dreaming. T wo long breaths later , they opened.
âCheck the SWAT lockers. There should be enough in there to outfit
two people in each squad.â
âSnipers?â Miller said.
âYou have a better idea, Detective?â Shaddid said, leaning on the last
word.
Miller raised his hands in surren der. Riot gear was meant to intimidate
and control. SWAT gear was made to kill with the greatest efficiency
possible. Seemed their mandate had just changed.
On any given day, a thousand ships might be docked on Ceres Station, and
activity there rarely slowed and never stopped. Each sector could
accommodate twenty ships, the traffic of humanity and cargo, transport
vans, mesocranes, and industrial forklifts, and his squad was responsible for
twenty sectors.
The air stank of refrigerant and oil. The gravity was slightly above 0.3
g, station spin alone lending the place a sense of oppression and danger .
Miller didnâ t like the port. Havin g vacuum so close under his feet made him
nervous. Passing the dockworkers and transport crews, he didnâ t know
whether to scowl or smile. He was here to scare people into behaving and
also to reassure them that everything was under control. After the first three
sectors, he settled on the smile. It was the kind of lie he was better at.
They had just reached the junction of sectors nineteen and twenty
when they heard screaming. Miller pulled his hand terminal out of his
pocket, connected to the central surveillance network, and called up the
security camera array . It took a few seconds to find it: a mob of fifty or
sixty civilians stretching almo st all the way across the tunnel, traffic
The Seed Crystal of Riot
- Detective Miller and his squad encounter a violent mob in the tunnel junction between sectors nineteen and twenty.
- A shirtless man brutally murders a victim in front of the crowd, acting as the catalyst for potential station-wide chaos.
- Miller attempts to de-escalate the situation using psychological tactics and the station's public address system rather than immediate lethal force.
- The tension peaks when Miller is struck by a thrown wrench, testing his restraint as the murderer emboldened by the crowd's laughter steps forward.
He was trying to reason with a fire. Stop it here, and no one else got killed.
whether to scowl or smile. He was here to scare people into behaving and
also to reassure them that everything was under control. After the first three
sectors, he settled on the smile. It was the kind of lie he was better at.
They had just reached the junction of sectors nineteen and twenty
when they heard screaming. Miller pulled his hand terminal out of his
pocket, connected to the central surveillance network, and called up the
security camera array . It took a few seconds to find it: a mob of fifty or
sixty civilians stretching almo st all the way across the tunnel, traffic
blocked on both sides. There were weapons being waved over heads.
Knives, clubs. At least two pistols. Fists pumped in the air. And at the
center of the crowd, a huge shirtless man was beating someone to death.
âShowtime,â Miller said, waving his squad forward at a run.
He was still a hundred meters from the turn that would take them to
the clot of huma n violence when he saw the shirtless man knock his victim
to the ground, then stomp on her neck. The head twisted sideways at an
angle that didnâ t leave any question. Miller slowed his team to a brisk walk.
Arresting the murderer while surrounded by a crowd of his friends would
be tough enough without being winded.
There was blood in the water now. Miller could sense it. The mob was
going to turn out. To the station , to the ships. If the people started joining
the chaos⌠what path would it be likely to take? There was a brothel one
level up from there and half a kilometer anti-spinward that catered to inner
planet types. The tariff inspector for sector twenty-one was marr ied to a girl
from Luna and had bragged about it maybe once too often.
There were too many targets, Miller thought even as he motioned his
snipers to spread out. He was trying to reason with a fire. Stop it here, and
no one else got killed.
In his imagination, Candace crossed her arms and said, Whatâ s plan B?
The outer edge of the mob raise d the alarm well before Miller reached
it. The surge of bodies and threa ts shifted. Miller tipped back his hat. Men,
women. Dark skin, pale, golden brown, and all with the long, thin build of
Belters, all with the square-mouthed angry gape of chimpanzees at war .
âLet me take a couple of them down, sir,â Gelbfish said from his
terminal. âPut the fear of God into them.â
âWeâll get there,â Miller said, smiling at the angry mob. âWeâll get
there.â
The face he expected floated to the front. Shirtless. The big man, blood
covering his hands and splattered on his cheek. The seed crystal of the riot.
âThat one?â Gelbfish asked, and Miller knew that a tiny infrared dot
was painting Shirtlessâ forehea d even as he glowered at Miller and the
uniforms behind him.
âNo,â Miller said. âThatâll only set the rest of them of f.â
âSo what do we do?â Brown said.
It was a hell of a question.
âSir,â Gelbfish said. âThe big fucker âs got an OPA tattoo on his left
shoulder .â
âWell,â Miller said, âif you do have to shoot him, start there.â
He stepped forward, tying his terminal into the local system,
overriding the alert. When he spoke, his voice boomed from the overhead
speakers.
âThis is Detective Miller . Unless you all want to be locked up as
accessories to murder , I suggest you disperse now.â Muting the microphone
in his terminal, he said to Shirtless, âNot you, big fella. Move a muscle and
we shoot you.â
Someone in the crowd threw a wrench, the silver metal arcin g low
through the air toward Miller âs head. He almost stepped out of the way, but
the hand le caugh t him across the ear. His head filled with the deep sound of
bells, and the wet of blood tracked down his neck.
âHold fire,â Miller shouted. âHold your fire.â
The crow d laughed, as if heâd been talking to them. Idiots. Shirtless,
emboldened, strode forward. The steroids had distended his thighs so badly
Miller and the Mob
- Detective Miller confronts a violent mob and their steroid-enhanced leader after a brutal murder on the station.
- Despite being struck by a thrown wrench, Miller maintains control by ordering his snipers to non-lethally incapacitate the aggressor.
- Miller uses a mix of Belter lingo and political manipulation to convince the crowd that rioting serves the interests of Earth and Mars.
- By appealing to Belter identity and the need for unity against outside forces, Miller successfully de-escalates the situation and disperses the crowd.
- The encounter highlights the deep-seated tensions between the Belt and the Inner Planets, as well as Miller's complex role as a lawman on the rock.
Millerâs voice conversational but echoing out of the dock speakers like a pronouncement from God.
in his terminal, he said to Shirtless, âNot you, big fella. Move a muscle and
we shoot you.â
Someone in the crowd threw a wrench, the silver metal arcin g low
through the air toward Miller âs head. He almost stepped out of the way, but
the hand le caugh t him across the ear. His head filled with the deep sound of
bells, and the wet of blood tracked down his neck.
âHold fire,â Miller shouted. âHold your fire.â
The crow d laughed, as if heâd been talking to them. Idiots. Shirtless,
emboldened, strode forward. The steroids had distended his thighs so badly
that he waddled. Miller turned the mic on his terminal back on. If the crowd
was watching them face each other down, they werenâ t breakin g things. It
wasnâ t spreading. Not yet.
âSo. Friend. You only kick helpless people to death, or can anybody
join in?â Miller asked, his voice conversational but echoing out of the dock
speakers like a pronouncement from God.
âThe fuck you barking, Earth dog?â Shirtless said.
âEarth?â Miller said, chuckling. âI look like I grew up in a gravi ty well
to you? I was born on this rock.â
âInners kibble you, bitch,â Shirtless said. âY ou they dog.â
âYou think?â
âFuckinâ dui,â Shirtless said. Fucking true. He flexed his pectorals.
Miller suppressed the ur ge to laugh.
âSo killing that poor bastard was for the good of the station?â Miller
said. âThe good of the Belt? Donâ t be a chump, kid. Theyâre playing you.
They want you to act like a bunch of stupid riotboys so they have a reason
to shut this place down.â
âSchrauben sie sie weibchen, â Shirtle ss said in Belter -inflected gutter
German, leaning forward.
Okay , second time Iâve been called a bitch, Miller thought.
âKneecap him,â Miller said. Shirtlessâ legs blew out in twin sprays of
crimson and he went down howling. Miller walked past his writhing body ,
stepping toward the mob.
âYouâre taking your orders from this pendejo ?â he said. âList en to me,
we all know whatâs coming. We know dance starting, now, like pow, right?
They fucked tu agua, and we all know the answer . Out an airlock, no?â
He could see it in their faces: the sudden fear of the snipers, then the
confusion. He pressed on, not giving them time to think. He switched back
to the lower -level lingo, the language of education, authority .
âYou know what Mars wants? They want you, doing this. They want
this piece of shit here to make sure that everyone looks at Belter s and thinks
weâre a bunch of psychopaths who tear up their own station. They want to
tell themselves weâre just like them. Well, we arenâ t. Weâre Belters, and we
take care of our own.â
He picked a man at the edge of the mob. Not as pumped as Shirtless,
but big. He had an OP A split circle on his arm.
âYou,â Miller said. âY ou want to fight for the Belt?â
âDui,â the man said.
âI bet you do. He did too,â Miller said, jerking a thumb back at
Shirtless. âBut now heâs a cripple, and heâs going down for murder . So
weâve already lost one. You see? Theyâre turning us against each other .
Canâ t let them do that. Every one of you I have to arrest or cripple or kill,
thatâs one less we have when the day comes. And itâs coming. But itâs not
now. You understand?â
The OPA man scowled. The mob drew back from him, making space.
Miller could feel it like a current against him. It was shifting.
âDayâ s coming, hombre,â the OP A man said. âY ou know your side?â
The tone was a threat, but there was no power behind it. Miller took a
slow breath. It was over .
âAlways the side of the angels,â he said. âWhy donât you all go back
to work? Showâ s over here, and weâve all got plenty that needs doing.â
Momentum broken, the mob fell apart. First one and two peeling off
from the edges, and then the whole knot untying itself at once. Five minutes
after Miller had arrived, the only signs that anything had happened were
Aftermath and Uncertain Trajectories
- Detective Miller successfully disperses a volatile mob on Ceres, though not before a Martian freight worker is beaten to death.
- Miller arrests an OPA-affiliated man for the murder, threatening to 'space' him if he resists.
- Aboard the shuttle Knight, Holden and his surviving crew struggle with the psychological trauma of the Canterbury's destruction.
- The crew debates their next destination while Holden insists on waiting for orders from their corporate employers at Saturn Station.
- Physical exhaustion and the 'post-juice crash' begin to take a toll on Holden as the reality of their isolation sets in.
Only one dead. Makes it a good night, Miller thought sourly.
The OPA man scowled. The mob drew back from him, making space.
Miller could feel it like a current against him. It was shifting.
âDayâ s coming, hombre,â the OP A man said. âY ou know your side?â
The tone was a threat, but there was no power behind it. Miller took a
slow breath. It was over .
âAlways the side of the angels,â he said. âWhy donât you all go back
to work? Showâ s over here, and weâve all got plenty that needs doing.â
Momentum broken, the mob fell apart. First one and two peeling off
from the edges, and then the whole knot untying itself at once. Five minutes
after Miller had arrived, the only signs that anything had happened were
Shirtless mewling in a pool of his own blood, the wound on Millerâs ear,
and the body of the woman fifty good citizens had stood by and watched be
beaten to death . She was short and wearing the flight suit of a Martian
freight line.
Only one dead. Makes it a good night, Miller thought sourly .
He went to the fallen man. The OPA tattoo was smeared red. Miller
knelt.
âFriend,â he said. âYou are under arrest for the murder of that lady
over there, whoever the hell she is. You are not required to participate in
questioning without the presence of an attorney or union representative, and
if you so much as look at me wrong, Iâll space you. Do we unde rstand each
other?â
From the look in the manâ s eyes, Miller knew they did.
Chapter Seven
Holden
Holden could drink coffee at half a g. Actually sit and hold a mug under his
nose and let the aroma drift up. Sip it slowly and not burn his tongue.
Drinking coffee was one of the activities that didnâ t make the transition to
microgravity well, but at half a g, it was fine.
So he sat and tried very hard to think about coffee and gravity in the
silence of the Knight âs tiny galley . Even the normally talkative Alex was
quiet. Amos had set his big handgun on the table and was staring at it with
frightening concentration. Shed was asleep. Naomi was sitting across the
room, drinking tea and keeping one eye on the wall panel next to her. Sheâd
routed ops to it.
As long as he kept his mind on his cof fee, he didnâ t have to think about
Ade giving one last gasp of fear and then turning into a glowing vapor .
Alex ruined it by speaking.
âAt some point, we need to decide where weâre goinâ,â he said.
Holden nodded, took a sip of his coffee, and closed his eyes. His
muscles vibrated like plucked strings, and his peripheral vision was dappled
with points of imaginary light. The first twinges of the post-juice crash were
starting, and it was going to be a bad one. He wanted to enjoy these last few
moments before the pain hit.
âHeâ s right, Jim,â Naomi said. âWe canât just fly in a big circle at half
a g forever .â
Holden didnâ t open his eyes. The darkness behind his lids was bright
and active and mildly nauseating.
âWe arenâ t waiting forever ,â he said. âWeâre waiting fifty minu tes for
Saturn Station to call me back and tell me what to do with their ship. The
Knight is still P and K property . Weâre still employees. You wanted me to
call for help, I called for help. Now we are waiting to see what that looks
like.â
âShouldnâ t we start flying toward Saturn Station, then, Boss?â Amos
asked, directing his question at Naomi.
Alex snorted.
âNot on the Knight âs engin e. Even if we had the fuel for that trip,
which we donât, I donât want to sit in this can for the next three months,â he
said. âNaw , if weâre goinâ somewhere, itâs gotta be the Belt or Jupiter .
Weâre as close to exactly between âem as you can get.â
âI vote we continue on to Cere s,â Naomi said. âP and K has offices
there. W e donâ t know anyone in the Jupiter complex.â
Without opening his eyes, Holden shook his head.
âNo, we wait for them to call us back.â
The Weight of Survival
- The crew of the Knight debates their next destination, caught between the risks of heading toward Ceres or the isolation of the Jupiter complex.
- Holden insists on waiting for a response from Pur-Kleen, refusing to commit to a course until more information is available.
- Suffering from physical trauma and radiation sickness, Holden experiences vivid, drug-induced hallucinations of his lost Canterbury crewmates.
- Holden reflects on the moral depravity of the unknown attackers, contrasting his own military ethics with the cold-blooded destruction of a civilian ship.
It was funny, he thought, how you could make someoneâs voice out from the smallest sounds. A cough or a sigh. Or the little gasp right before she died.
asked, directing his question at Naomi.
Alex snorted.
âNot on the Knight âs engin e. Even if we had the fuel for that trip,
which we donât, I donât want to sit in this can for the next three months,â he
said. âNaw , if weâre goinâ somewhere, itâs gotta be the Belt or Jupiter .
Weâre as close to exactly between âem as you can get.â
âI vote we continue on to Cere s,â Naomi said. âP and K has offices
there. W e donâ t know anyone in the Jupiter complex.â
Without opening his eyes, Holden shook his head.
âNo, we wait for them to call us back.â
Naomi made an exasperated sound. It was funny , he thought, how you
could make someoneâ s voice out from the smallest sounds. A cough or a
sigh. Or the little gasp right before she died.
Holden sat up and opened his eyes. He placed his coffee mug on the
table carefully , with hands that were starting to palsy .
âI donât want to fly sunward to Ceres, because thatâs the direction the
torpedo ship went, and your point about chasing them is well taken, Naomi.
I donât want to fly out to Jupiter , because we only have the fuel for one trip,
and once we fly that direction for a while, weâre locked in. We are sitting
here and drinking coffee because I need to make a decision, and P and K
gets a say in that decision. So we wait for them to answer , and then I
decide.â
Holden got up slowly , carefully , and began moving toward the crew
ladder . âIâm going to crash for a few minutes, let the worst of the shakes
wear of f. If P and K calls, let me know .â
Holden popped sedative tabsâthin, bitter pills with an aftertaste like bread
moldâbut he didnâ t sleep. Over and over, McDowell placed a hand on his
arm and called him Jim. Becca laughed and cursed like a sailor . Cameron
bragged about his prowess on the ice.
Ade gasped.
Holden had flown the Ceres-to-Saturn circuit on the Canterbury nine
times. Two round-trips a year, for almost five years. Most of the crew had
been there the entire time. Flying on the Cant might be the bottom of the
barrel, but that meant there was nowhere else to go. People stayed, made
the ship their home. After the near-constant duty transfers of the navy , he
appreciated stability . Made it his home too. McDowell said something he
couldnâ t quite make out. The Cant groaned like she was under a hard burn.
Ade smiled and winked at him.
The worst leg cramp in history hit every muscle in his body at once.
Holden bit down hard on his rubber mouth guard, screaming . The pain
brought an oblivion that was almost a relief. His mind shut off, drowned out
by the needs of his body . Fortunately or not, the drugs started to kick in. His
muscles unknot ted. His nerves stopped screaming, and consciousness
returned like a reluctant schoo lboy. His jaw ached as he pulled out the
guard. Heâd worn toothmarks in the rubber .
In the dim blue cabin light, he thought about the kind of man who
followed an order to kill a civilian ship.
Heâd done some things in the navy that had kept him awake nights.
Heâd followed some orders he vehemently disagreed with. But to lock on to
a civilian ship with fifty people aboard and press the button that launched
six nuclear weapons? He would have refused. If his commanding officer
had insisted, heâd have declared it an illegal order and demanded that the
executive of ficer take control of the ship and arrest the captain. Theyâd have
had to shoot him to get him away from the weapon post.
Heâd known the sort of people who would have followed the order ,
though. He told himself that they were sociopaths and animals, no better
than pirates whoâd board your ship, strip your engine, and take your air.
That they werenâ t human.
But even as he nursed his hatred, drug-hazed rage offering its nihilistic
The Price of Accusation
- Holden grapples with the psychological trauma of the Canterbury's destruction while questioning the motives behind such a senseless act of violence.
- After waking from a drug-induced sleep, Holden learns that Pur-Kleen (P and K) has finally responded to their distress call and broadcast.
- The company's legal counsel, Wallace Fitz, reprimands Holden for his 'ill-advised' broadcast that implicated Mars in the attack.
- The survivors are ordered to rendezvous with the MCRN Donnager, a Martian warship, under threat of contract termination and criminal prosecution.
- Despite the legal pressure and the looming Martian presence, Holden maintains that his broadcast was merely a factual presentation of the data.
Heâd been weeping in his sleep. He told himself it was from the juice crash. The deep ache in his chest was only stressed cartilage.
had insisted, heâd have declared it an illegal order and demanded that the
executive of ficer take control of the ship and arrest the captain. Theyâd have
had to shoot him to get him away from the weapon post.
Heâd known the sort of people who would have followed the order ,
though. He told himself that they were sociopaths and animals, no better
than pirates whoâd board your ship, strip your engine, and take your air.
That they werenâ t human.
But even as he nursed his hatred, drug-hazed rage offering its nihilistic
comforts, he couldnâ t believe they were idiots. The itch at the back of his
head was still Why? What does anyone gain from killing an ice hauler?
Who gets paid? Someone always gets paid.
Iâm going to find you. Iâm going to find you and end you. But befor e I
do, I am going to make you explain.
The second wave of pharmaceuticals exploded in his bloodstream. He
was hot and limp, his veins filled with syrup. Just before the tabs finally
knocked him out, Ade smiled and winked.
And blew away like dust.
The comm beeped at him. Naom iâs voice said, âJim, the P and K response
finally came in. W ant me to send it down there?â
Holden struggle d to make sense of the words. Blinked. Somethi ng was
wrong with his bunk. W ith the ship. Slowly , he remembered.
âJim?â
âNo,â he said. âI want to watch it up in ops with you. How long was I
out?â
âThree hours,â she said.
âJesus. They took their sweet time getting back to us, didnâ t they?â
Holden rolled out of his couch and wiped off the crust that held his
eyelashes togeth er. Heâd been weeping in his sleep. He told himself it was
from the juice crash. The deep ache in his chest was only stressed cartilage.
What were you doing for three hours befor e you called us back? he
wondered.
Naomi waited for him at the comm station, a manâ s face frozen mid-
word on the screen in front of her . He seemed familiar .
âThat isnâ t the operations manager .â
âNope. Itâs the P and K legal counsel on Saturn Station. The one who
gave that speech after the crackdown on supply pilfering?â Naomi said.
ââStealing from us is stealing from you.â That one.â
âLawyer ,â Holden said with a grimace. âThis is going to be bad news,
then.â
Naomi restarted the message. The lawyer sprang into motion.
âJames Holden, this is Wallace Fitz calling from Saturn Station. Weâve
received your request for help, and your report of the incident. Weâve also
received your broadcast accusing Mars of destroying the Canterbury . This
was, to say the least, ill advised. The Martian representative on Saturn
Station was in my office not five minutes after your broadcast was received,
and the MCR is quite upset by what they view as unfounded accusations of
piracy by their government.
âTo further investigate this matter , and to aid in discovering the true
wrongdoers, if any, the MCRN is dispatching one of their ships from the
Jupiter system to pick you up. The MCRN Donnager is the name of this
vessel. Your orders from P and K are as follows: You will fly at best
possible speed to the Jupiter system. You will cooperate fully with
instructions given you by the MCRN Donnager , or by any officer of the
Martian Congre ssional Republic Navy . You will assist the MCRN in their
investigation into the destruction of the Canterbury . You will refrain from
any further broadcasting except to us or the Donnager .
âIf you fail to follow these instructions from the company and from the
government of Mars, your contract with P and K will be terminated, and
you will be considered in illegal possession of a P and K shuttle craft. We
will then prosecute you to the fullest extent of the law .
âWallace Fitz out.â
Holden frowned at the monitor , then shook his head.
âI never said Mars did it.â
âYou sort of did,â Naomi replied.
âI didnât say anything that wasnâ t entirely factual and backed up by the
data I transmitted, and I engaged in no speculation about those facts.â
âSo,â Naomi said. âWhat do we do?â
The Donnager's Shadow
- Pur'n'Kleen Water Company threatens to terminate the crew's contracts and prosecute them for illegal possession of the shuttle if they continue broadcasting.
- The crew debates whether to surrender to the Martian Congressional Republic Navy or attempt a desperate flight to the Belt to hide.
- Alex, a former Martian Navy sailor, warns that the MCRN flagship Donnager is a quarter-million-ton battleship capable of tracking and destroying them from across the solar system.
- Despite the overwhelming odds and the company's abandonment, Holden decides to comply with the order to rendezvous but plans to 'disobey the spirit' of the instructions.
Sheâs the flagship for the MCRNâs Jupiter fleet. Battleship. Quarter million tons of bad news.
any further broadcasting except to us or the Donnager .
âIf you fail to follow these instructions from the company and from the
government of Mars, your contract with P and K will be terminated, and
you will be considered in illegal possession of a P and K shuttle craft. We
will then prosecute you to the fullest extent of the law .
âWallace Fitz out.â
Holden frowned at the monitor , then shook his head.
âI never said Mars did it.â
âYou sort of did,â Naomi replied.
âI didnât say anything that wasnâ t entirely factual and backed up by the
data I transmitted, and I engaged in no speculation about those facts.â
âSo,â Naomi said. âWhat do we do?â
âNo fucking way ,â Amos said. âNo fucking way.â
The galley was a small space. The five of them filled it uncomfortably .
The gray laminate walls showe d whorls of bright scrapes where mold had
grown once and been cleaned off with microwaves and steel wool. Shed sat
with his back against the wall, Naomi across the table. Alex stood in the
doorway . Amos had started pacing along the backâtwo fast paces, then a
turnâbefore the lawyer had finished his first sentence.
âIâm not happy about it either . But thatâs the word from the home
office,â Holden said, pointing at the galleyâ s display screen. âDidnâ t mean
to get you guys in trouble.â
âNo problem, Holden. I still think you did the right thing,â Shed
replied, running one hand throu gh his limp blond hair. âSo what do you
think the Martians will do with us?â
âIâm thinking pull our fucking toes off until Holden goes back on the
radio and says it wasnâ t them,â Amos said. âWhat in the holy hell is this?
They attacked us, and now weâre supposed to cooperate? They killed the
captain!â
âAmos,â Holden said.
âSorry , Holden. Captain,â Amos said. âBut Jesus wept. Weâre getting
fucked here and not the nice way . Weâre not gonna do this, are we?â
âI donât want to disappear into some Martian prison ship forever ,â
Holden said. âThe way I see it, we have two options. Either we go along
with this, which is basically throwing ourselves on their mercy . Or we run,
try to make it to the Belt and hide.â
âIâm voting for the Belt,â Naomi said, her arms crossed. Amos raised a
hand, seconding the motion. Shed slowly raised his own.
Alex shook his head.
âI know the Donnager ,â he said. âSheâ s not some rock hopper . Sheâs
the flags hip for the MCRNâ s Jupiter fleet. Battleship. Quarter million tons
of bad news. Y ou ever serve on a ship that size?â
âNo. I wasnâ t on anything bigger than a destroyer ,â Holden replied.
âI served on the Bandon, with the home fleet. We canât go anywhere
that a ship like that canât find us. Sheâs got four main engine s, each one
bigger than our whole ship. Sheâs designed for long periods at high g with
every sailor on board juiced to the gills. We canât run, sir, and even if we
did, her sensor package could track a golf ball and hit it with a torpedo from
half the solar system away .â
âOh, fuck that, sir,â Amos said, standing up. âThese Martian needle
dicks blew up the Cant ! I say run. At least make it hard for them.â
Naomi put one hand on Amosâ forearm, and the big mechanic paused,
shook his head, and sat down. The galley was silent. Holden wondered if
McDowell had ever had to make a call like this, and what the old man
would have done.
âJim, this is your decision,â she said, but her eyes were hard. No, what
you are going to do is get the remaining four members of your crew to
safety . And thatâ s all.
Holden nodded and tapped his fingers against his lips.
âP and K doesn ât have our back on this one. We probably canât get
away , but I donât want to disappear either ,â Holden said. And then: âI think
we go, but we donât go quietly . Why donât we go disobey the spirit of an
order?â
Naomi finished working on the comm panel, her hair now floating around
The Transparent Society Gambit
- James Holden decides to broadcast a public message to the entire system, identifying his crew and their location to prevent the Martian Navy from making them disappear.
- The crew of the Knight agrees to be taken aboard the MCRN Donnager, using the public broadcast as a political shield against potential Martian aggression.
- Holden and Naomi share a somber moment where he instructs her to sacrifice his reputation to save the rest of the crew if things go wrong.
- The situation escalates when the Knight's sensors detect six unidentified ships flying without transponders on a high-speed intercept course.
- On Ceres, Detective Miller monitors OPA propaganda that frames the destruction of the Canterbury as part of a larger pattern of Earth and Martian aggression.
Naomi, send that out broadband.
shook his head, and sat down. The galley was silent. Holden wondered if
McDowell had ever had to make a call like this, and what the old man
would have done.
âJim, this is your decision,â she said, but her eyes were hard. No, what
you are going to do is get the remaining four members of your crew to
safety . And thatâ s all.
Holden nodded and tapped his fingers against his lips.
âP and K doesn ât have our back on this one. We probably canât get
away , but I donât want to disappear either ,â Holden said. And then: âI think
we go, but we donât go quietly . Why donât we go disobey the spirit of an
order?â
Naomi finished working on the comm panel, her hair now floating around
her like a black cloud in the zero g.
âOkay , Jim, Iâm dumping every watt into the comm array . Theyâll be
getting this loud and clear all the way out to T itania,â she said.
Holden reached up to run one hand through his sweat-plastered hair. In
the null gravity , that just made it stick straight out in every direction. He
zipped up his flight suit and pressed the record button.
âThis is James Holden, formerly of the Canterbury , now on the shuttle
Knight. We are cooperating with an investigation into who destroyed the
Canterbury and, as part of that cooperation, are agreeing to be taken aboard
your ship, the MCRN Donnager . We hope that this cooperation means that
we will not be held prisoner or harmed. Any such action would only serve
to reinforce the idea that the Canterbury was destroyed by a Martian vessel.
James Holden out.â
Holden leaned back. âNaomi, send that out broadband.â
âThatâ s a dirty trick, Boss,â said Alex. âPretty hard to disappear us
now.â
âI believ e in the ideal of the transparent society , Mr. Kamal,â said
Holden. Alex grinned, pushed off, and floated down the gangway . Naomi
tapped the comm panel, making a small, satisfied sound in the back of her
throat.
âNaomi,â Holden said. She turned, her hair waving lazily , like they
were both drowning. âIf this goes badly , I need you⌠I need you toâŚâ
âThrow you to the wolves,â she said. âBlame everything on you and
get the others back to Saturn Station safely .â
âYeah,â Holden said. âDonâ t play the hero.â
She let the words hang in the air until the last of the irony leeched out
of them.
âHadnâ t crossed my mind, sir ,â she said.
âKnight, this is Captain Theresa Yao of the MCRN Donnager ,â said the
severe-looking woman on the comm screen. âMessage received. Please
refrain from further general broadcasts. My navigator will be sending
course information shortly . Follow that course exactly . Yao out.â
Alex laughed.
âI think you pissed her off,â he said. âGot the course info. Theyâll be
picking us up in thirteen days. Give her time to really stew on it.â
âThirteen days before Iâm clapped in irons and have needles shoved
under my fingernails,â Holden sighed, leaning back in his couch. âWell,
best begin our flight toward imprisonment and torture. You may lock in the
transmitted course, Mr . Kamal.â
âRoger that, CapâHuh,â said Alex.
âA problem?â
âWell, the Knight just did her pre-burn sweep for collision objects,â
Alex said. âAnd we have six Belt objects on an intercept course.â
âBelt objects?â
âFast contacts with no transponder signal,â Alex replied. âShips, but
flyinâ dark. Theyâll catch us just about two days before the Donnager
does.â
Holden pulled up the display . Six small signatures, yellow-orange
shifting toward red. Heavy burn.
âWell,â Holden said to the screen. âAnd who the hell are you?â
Chapter Eight
Miller
âAggression against the Belt is what Earth and Mars survi ve on. Our
weakness is their strength,â the masked woman said from Miller âs terminal
screen. The split circle of the OPA draped behind her, like something
painted on a sheet. âDonâ t be afraid of them. Their only power is your fear .â
âWell, that and a hundred or so gunships,â Havelock said.
âFrom what I hear,â Miller said, âif you clap your hands and say you
Ceres Station Holding Its Breath
- OPA propaganda is flooding Ceres Station, using the destruction of the Canterbury to incite rebellion against Earth and Mars.
- Despite the surface-level return to business as usual, the station remains in a state of fragile, post-riot tension.
- Detective Miller observes that the populace is exhibiting the same surreal, shell-shocked calm he typically sees in the families of homicide victims.
- The investigation into the Canterbury's destruction has become a chaotic information war, with conflicting theories about the legitimacy of the footage and the nature of the attack.
Ceres Station was holding itself carefully. Its eyes were taking a quarter second longer to focus.
shifting toward red. Heavy burn.
âWell,â Holden said to the screen. âAnd who the hell are you?â
Chapter Eight
Miller
âAggression against the Belt is what Earth and Mars survi ve on. Our
weakness is their strength,â the masked woman said from Miller âs terminal
screen. The split circle of the OPA draped behind her, like something
painted on a sheet. âDonâ t be afraid of them. Their only power is your fear .â
âWell, that and a hundred or so gunships,â Havelock said.
âFrom what I hear,â Miller said, âif you clap your hands and say you
believe, they canâ t shoot you.â
âHave to try that sometime.â
âWe must rise up!â the woman said, her voice growing shrill. âWe
have to take our destiny before it is taken from us! Rem ember the
Canterbury !â
Miller shut the viewer down and leaned back in his chair . The station
was at its change-of-shift surge, voices raised one over the other as the
previous round of cops brought the incoming ones up to speed. The smell of
fresh cof fee competed with cigarette smoke.
âThereâ s maybe a dozen like her,â Havelock said, nodding toward the
dead terminal screen. âSheâ s my favorite, though. Thereâre times I swear
sheâs actually foaming at the mouth.â
âHow many more files?â Miller asked, and his partner shrugged.
âTwo, three hundred,â Havelock said, and took a drag on his cigarette.
Heâd started smoking again. âEvery few hours, thereâ s a new one. They
arenâ t coming from one place. Sometimes theyâre broadcast on the radio.
Sometimes the files show up on public partitions. Orlan found some guys at
a portside bar passing out those little VR squids like they were pamphlets.â
âShe bust them?â
âNo,â Havelock said as if it was no big deal.
A week had passed since Jame s Holden, self-appointed martyr , had
proudly announc ed that he and his crew were going to go talk to someone
from the Martian navy instead of just slinging shit and implications. The
footage of the Canterbury âs death was everywhere, deba tes raging over
every frame. The log files that documented the incident were perfectly
legitimate, or they were obviously doctored. The torpedoe s that had
slaughtered the hauler were nukes or standard pirate fare that breached the
drive by mistake, or it was all artifice lifted from old stock foota ge to cover
up what had really killed the Cant.
The riots had lasted for three days on and off, like a fire hot enough to
reignite every time the air pumped back in. The administrative offices
reopened under heavy security , but they reopened. The ports fell behind, but
they were catching up. The shirtless bastard who Miller had ordered shot
was in the Star Helix detainment infirmary , getting new knees, filling out
protests against Miller , and preparing for his murder trial.
Six hundred cubic meters of nitrogen had gone missing from a
warehouse in sector fifteen. An unlicensed whore had been beaten up and
locked in a storage unit; as soon as she was done giving evidenc e about her
attackers, sheâd be arrested. Theyâd caught the kids whoâd been breaking
the surveillance cameras on level sixteen. Superficially , everything was
business as usual.
Only superficially .
When Miller had started working homicide, one of the things that had
struck him was the surreal calm of the victimsâ families. People who had
just lost wives, husbands, children, and lovers. People whose lives had just
been branded by violence. More often than not, they were calmly offering
drinks and answering question s, making the detectives feel welcome. A
civilian coming in unaware might have mistaken them for whole. It was
only in the caref ul way they held themselves and the extra quarter second it
took their eyes to focus that Miller could see how deep the damage was.
Ceres Station was holding itself carefully . Its eyes were taking a
quarter second longer to focus. Middle-class peopleâstorekeepers,
maintenance workers, computer techsâwere avoiding him on the tube the
Tensions on Ceres Station
- Ceres Station is gripped by a growing sense of siege as the local population begins to treat the police as hostile Earth-based contractors rather than community protectors.
- Miller observes the deep psychological damage and trauma in the station's residents, noting a subtle but profound shift in how they carry themselves.
- Havelock, an Earther, faces increasing social isolation and prejudice from the Belter population, leading Miller to feel a protective but conflicted urge toward his partner.
- Seeking an escape from the mounting hostility and the monotony of paperwork, Havelock reveals he has applied for a transfer to a Protogen office on Ganymede.
- Miller decides to pursue the 'bullshit' Julie Mao kidnapping case as a way to distance himself from the station's oppressive atmosphere and administrative duties.
It was only in the careful way they held themselves and the extra quarter second it took their eyes to focus that Miller could see how deep the damage was.
been branded by violence. More often than not, they were calmly offering
drinks and answering question s, making the detectives feel welcome. A
civilian coming in unaware might have mistaken them for whole. It was
only in the caref ul way they held themselves and the extra quarter second it
took their eyes to focus that Miller could see how deep the damage was.
Ceres Station was holding itself carefully . Its eyes were taking a
quarter second longer to focus. Middle-class peopleâstorekeepers,
maintenance workers, computer techsâwere avoiding him on the tube the
way petty criminals did. Conver sations died when Miller came near. In the
station, the sense of being under siege was growing. A month earlier , Miller
and Havelock, Cobb and Richter , and the rest had been the steadying hand
of the law . Now they were employees of an Earth-based security contractor .
The difference was subtle, but it was deep. It made him want to stand
taller , to show with his body that he was a Belter . That he belonged there. It
made him want to win peopleâ s good opinion back. Let by a bunch of guys
passing out virtual reality propaganda with a warning, maybe.
It wasnâ t a smart impulse.
âWhatâve we got on the board?â Miller asked.
âTwo burglaries that look like that same ring,â Havelock said. âThat
domestic dispute from last week still needs the report closed up. There was
a pretty good assault over by Nakanesh Import Consortium, but Shaddid
was talking to Dyson and Patel about that, so itâs probably spoken for
already .â
âSo you wantâŚâ
Havelock looke d up and out to cover the fact that he was looking
away . It was something heâd been doing more often since things had gone
to shit.
âWeâve really got to get the reports done,â Havelock said. âNot just the
domestic. There âre four or five folders that are only still open because they
need to be crossed and dotted.â
âYeah,â Miller said.
Since the riots, heâd watched everyone in a bar get served before
Havelock. Heâd seen how the other cops from Shaddid down went out of
their way to reassure Miller that he was one of the good guys, a tacit
apology for saddling him with an Earther . And heâd seen Havelock see it
too.
It made Miller want to protect the man, to let Havelock spend his days
in the safety of paperwork and station house coffee. Help the man pretend
that he wasnâ t hated for the gravity heâd grown up in.
That wasnâ t a smart impulse either .
âWhat about your bullshit case?â Havelock asked.
âWhat?â
Havelock held up a folder . The Julie Mao case. The kidnap job. The
sideshow . Mille r nodded and rubbed his eyes. Someone at the front of the
station house yelped. Someone else laughed.
âYeah, no,â Miller said. âHavenâ t touched it.â
Havelock grinned and held it out to him. Miller accepted the file,
flipped it open. The eighteen-year -old grinned out at him with perfect teeth.
âI donâ t want to saddle you with all the desk driving,â Miller said.
âHey , youâre not the one that kept me off that one. That was Shaddidâ s
call. And anyway⌠itâs just paperwork. Never killed anyon e. You feel
guilty about it, you can buy me a beer after work.â
Miller tapped the case against the corner of his desk, the small impacts
settling the contents against the folder âs spine.
âRight,â he said. âIâll go do some follow-up on the bullshit. Iâll be
back by lunch, write something up to keep the boss happy .â
âIâll be here,â Havelock said. Then, as Miller rose: âHey . Look. I
didnâ t want to say anything until I was sure, but I also donât want you to
hear it someplace elseâŚâ
âPut in for a transfer?â Miller said.
âYeah. Talked to some of those Protogen contractors that passed
through. They say their Ganymede office is looking for a new lead
investigator . And I thoughtâŚâ Havelock shrugged.
âItâs a good move,â Miller said.
âJust want to go someplace with a sky, even if you look at it through
domes,â Havelock said, and all the bluff masculinity of police work
The Elegant Spartan
- Havelock informs Miller that he is seeking a transfer to a lead investigator position on Ganymede, seeking a life under a dome with a visible sky.
- Miller arrives at Julie Maoâs residence, a cramped and humble 'hole' located in a repurposed reaction mass chamber on Ceres.
- An investigation of the apartment reveals Julie's disciplined nature, evidenced by her martial arts awards and lack of material excess.
- Miller discovers an OPA armband among Julie's belongings, confirming her political leanings and rejection of her wealthy upbringing.
- Accessing Julie's personal terminal, Miller begins to form a psychological profile of a woman who valued elegance and functionality over luxury.
Just want to go someplace with a sky, even if you look at it through domes.
âIâll be here,â Havelock said. Then, as Miller rose: âHey . Look. I
didnâ t want to say anything until I was sure, but I also donât want you to
hear it someplace elseâŚâ
âPut in for a transfer?â Miller said.
âYeah. Talked to some of those Protogen contractors that passed
through. They say their Ganymede office is looking for a new lead
investigator . And I thoughtâŚâ Havelock shrugged.
âItâs a good move,â Miller said.
âJust want to go someplace with a sky, even if you look at it through
domes,â Havelock said, and all the bluff masculinity of police work
couldnâ t keep the wistfulness out of his voice.
âItâs a good move,â Miller said again.
Juliette Andromeda Maoâ s hole was in the ninth level of a fourteen-tiered
tunnel near the port. The great inverted V was almost half a kilometer wide
at the top, and no more than a standard tube width at the bottom , the retrofit
of one of a doze n reaction mass chambers from the years before the asteroid
had been given its false gravity . Now thousands of cheap holes burrowed
into the walls, hundreds on each level, heading straight back like shotgun
shacks. Kids played on the terraced streets, shrieking and laughing at
nothing. Someon e at the bottom was flying a kite in the constant gentle spin
breeze, the bright Mylar diamond swerving and bucki ng in the
microturbulence. Miller checked his terminal against the numbers painted
on the wall. 5151-I. Home sweet home to the poor little rich girl.
He keye d his override, and the dirty green door popped its seals and let
him pass.
The hole canted up into the body of the station. Three small rooms:
general living space at the front, then a bedroom hardly larger than the cot it
contained, then a stall with shower , toilet, and half sink all within elbow
distance. It was a standard design. Heâd seen it a thousand times.
Miller stood for a minute, not looking at anything in particular ,
listening to the reassuring hiss of air cycling through ductwork. He reserved
judgment, waiting as the back of his head built an impression of the place
and, through it, of the girl whoâd lived there.
Spartan was the wrong word. The place was simple, yes. The only
decorations were a small framed watercolor of a slightly abstracted
womanâ s face over the table in the front room and a cluster of playing-card-
sized plaques over the cot in the bedroom. He leaned close to read the small
script. A formal award granting Julie Maoânot Julietteâpurpl e belt status
by the Ceres Center for Jiu Jitsu. Another stepping her up to brown belt.
They were two years apart. Tough school, then. He put his fingers on the
empty space on the wall where one for black could go. There was none of
the affectationâ no stylized throwing stars or imitation swords. Just a small
acknowledgment that Julie Mao had done what she had done. He gave her
points for that.
The drawers had two changes of clothes, one of heavy canvas and
denim and one of blue linen with a silk scarf. One for work, one for play. It
was less than Miller owned, and he was hardly a clotheshorse.
With her socks and underwear was a wide armband with the split circle
of the OPA. Not a surprise, for a girl whoâd turned her back on wealth and
privilege to live in a dump like this. The refrigerator had two takeaway
boxes filled with spoiled food and a bottle of local beer .
Miller hesitated, then took the beer. He sat at the table and pulled up
the holeâs built-in terminal. True to Shaddidâ s word, Julieâ s partition opened
to Miller âs password.
The custom background was a racing pinnace. The interface was
customized in small, legible iconography . Communication, entertainment,
work, personal. Elegant. That was the word. Not Spartan, but elegant.
He paged quickly through her professional files, letting his mind take
in an overview , just as he had with the whole living space. There would be
time for rigor , and a first impression was usually more useful than an
The Elegant Ghost
- Detective Miller gains access to Julie Mao's personal digital partition, discovering a life defined by elegance and discipline rather than Spartan minimalism.
- Julie's digital footprint reveals a woman who abandoned her wealthy background for the OPA but remained intellectually detached from its propaganda.
- Miller uncovers a pattern of social isolation, including a canceled dating service membership and a lack of personal toiletries in her apartment.
- The investigation takes a personal turn as Miller finds a folder labeled 'Bullshit Guilt Trips' containing messages from her powerful family, the Maos.
There was always an element of voyeurism in being a detective. It was legal for him to be here, poking through the private life of a woman heâd never met.
denim and one of blue linen with a silk scarf. One for work, one for play. It
was less than Miller owned, and he was hardly a clotheshorse.
With her socks and underwear was a wide armband with the split circle
of the OPA. Not a surprise, for a girl whoâd turned her back on wealth and
privilege to live in a dump like this. The refrigerator had two takeaway
boxes filled with spoiled food and a bottle of local beer .
Miller hesitated, then took the beer. He sat at the table and pulled up
the holeâs built-in terminal. True to Shaddidâ s word, Julieâ s partition opened
to Miller âs password.
The custom background was a racing pinnace. The interface was
customized in small, legible iconography . Communication, entertainment,
work, personal. Elegant. That was the word. Not Spartan, but elegant.
He paged quickly through her professional files, letting his mind take
in an overview , just as he had with the whole living space. There would be
time for rigor , and a first impression was usually more useful than an
encyclopedia. She had training videos on several different light transport
craft. Some political archives, but nothing that raised a flag. A scanned
volume of poetry by some of the first settlers in the Belt.
He shifted to her personal correspondence. It was all kept as neat and
controlled as a Belterâs. All incoming messages were filtered to subfolders.
Work, Personal, Broadcast, Shopping. He popped open Broadcast. Two or
three hundred political newsfeeds, discussion group digests, bulletins and
announcements. A few had been viewed here and there, but nothing with
any sort of religious observation. Julie was the kind of woman who would
sacrifice for a cause, but not the kind whoâd take joy in reading the
propaganda. Miller filed that away .
Shopping was a long tracking of simple merchant messages. Some
receipts, some announcements, some requests for goods and services. A
cancellation for a Belt-based singles circle caught his eye. Miller re-sorted
for related correspondence. Julie had signed up for the âlow g, low
pressureâ dating service in February of the previous year and canceled in
June without having used it.
The Personal folder was more diverse. At a rough guess there were
sixty or seventy subfolders broken down by name. Some were peopleâ
Sascha Lloyd-Navarro, Ehren Michaels. Others were private notationsâ
Sparring Circle, OP A.
Bullshit Guilt T rips.
âWell, this could be interesting,â he said to the empty hole.
Fifty messages dating back five years, all marked as originating at the
Mao-Kwikowski Mercantile stations in the Belt and on Luna. Unlike the
political tracts, all but one had been opened.
Miller took a pull from the beer and considered the most recent two
messages. The most recent, still unread, was from JPM. Jules- Pierre Mao,
at a guess. The one immediately before it showed three drafted replies, none
of them sent. It was from Ariadne. The mother .
There was alway s an element of voyeurism in being a detective. It was
legal for him to be here, poking through the private life of a woman heâd
never met. It was part of his legitimate investigation to know that she was
lonely , that the only toiletries in her bathroom were her own. That she was
proud. No one would have any complaints to make, or at least any that
carried repercussions for his job, if he read every private message on her
partition. Drinki ng her beer was the most ethically suspect thing heâd done
since heâd come in.
And still he hesitated for a few seconds before opening the second-to-
last message.
The screen shifted. On bette r equipment, it would have been
indistinguishable from ink on paper , but Julieâ s cheap system shuddered at
the thinnest lines and leaked a soft glow at the left edge. The handwriting
was delicate and legible, either done with a calligraphic software good
enough to vary letter shape and line width, or else handwritten.
Sweetheart:
The Detective and the Daughter
- Detective Miller explores the private digital life of Julie Mao, reflecting on the inherent voyeurism of his profession.
- Messages from Julie's mother, Ariadne, reveal a strained relationship characterized by emotional manipulation and threats to sell Julie's racing ship, the Razorback.
- Julie's unsent drafts show her internal conflict, shifting from explosive anger to attempted reconciliation before settling on cold indifference.
- A final urgent message from Julie's father warns of impending danger in the Belt, predating the public outbreak of war.
- Miller realizes that Julie's family had insider information about the coming conflict, elevating the case from a missing person search to a political mystery.
Drinking her beer was the most ethically suspect thing heâd done since heâd come in.
at a guess. The one immediately before it showed three drafted replies, none
of them sent. It was from Ariadne. The mother .
There was alway s an element of voyeurism in being a detective. It was
legal for him to be here, poking through the private life of a woman heâd
never met. It was part of his legitimate investigation to know that she was
lonely , that the only toiletries in her bathroom were her own. That she was
proud. No one would have any complaints to make, or at least any that
carried repercussions for his job, if he read every private message on her
partition. Drinki ng her beer was the most ethically suspect thing heâd done
since heâd come in.
And still he hesitated for a few seconds before opening the second-to-
last message.
The screen shifted. On bette r equipment, it would have been
indistinguishable from ink on paper , but Julieâ s cheap system shuddered at
the thinnest lines and leaked a soft glow at the left edge. The handwriting
was delicate and legible, either done with a calligraphic software good
enough to vary letter shape and line width, or else handwritten.
Sweetheart:
I hope everythin gâs going well for you. I wish you would write
to me on your own sometimes. I feel like I have to put in a
request in triplicate just to hear how my own daughter is doing.
I know this adventur e of yours is all about freedom and self-
reliance, but sur ely ther eâs still r oom in ther e to be considerate.
I wanted to get in touch with you especially because your
father is going through one of his consolidation phases again,
and weâre thinking of selling the Razorback. I know it was
important to you once, but I suppose weâve all given up on your
racing again. Itâs just racking up storage fees now, and thereâs
no call to be sentimental.
It was signed with the flowing initials AM.
Miller considered the words. Somehow heâd expected the parental
extortions of the very rich to be more subtle. If you donât do as we say, weâll
get rid of your toys. If you donât write. If you donât come home. If you donât
love us.
Miller opened the first incomplete draft.
Mother , if thatâ s what you call yourself:
Thank you so much for dropping yet another turd onto my
day. I canât believe how selfish and petty and crude you are. I
canât believe you sleep at night or that you ever thought I could
Miller skimmed the rest. The tone seemed consistent. The secon d draft
reply was dated two days later . He skipped to it.
Mom:
Iâm sorry weâve been so estrang ed these last few years. I know
itâs been hard for you and for Daddy . I hope you can see that
the decisions Iâve made wer e never meant to hurt either of you.
About the Razorback, I wish youâd reconsider . Sheâs my
first boat, and I
It stopped there. Miller leaned back.
âSteady on, kid,â he said to the imaginary Julie, then opened the last
draft.
Ariadne:
Do what you have to.
Julie
Miller laughed and raised his bottle to the screen in toast. Theyâd
known how to hit her where it hurt, and Julie had taken the blow . If he ever
caught her and shipped her back, it was going to be a bad day for both of
them. All of them.
He finished the beer, dropped the bottle into the recycling chute, and
opened the last message. He more than half dreaded learning the final fate
of the Razorback, but it was his job to know as much as he could.
Julie:
This is not a joke. This is not one of your mother âs drama fits. I
have solid inform ation that the Belt is about to be a very unsafe
place. Whatever differ ences we have we can work out later .
FOR YOUR OWN SAFETY COME HOME NOW .
Miller frowned. The air recyc ler hummed. Outside, the local kids
whistled high and loud. He tapped the screen, closing the last Bullshit Guilt
Trip message, then opened it again.
It had been sent from Luna, two weeks before James Holden and the
Canterbury raised the specter of war between Mars and the Belt.
This sideshow was getting interesting.
Chapter Nine
Holden
Survival on the Knight
- Miller reviews a cryptic warning from Luna sent before the Canterbury's destruction, suggesting the Belt is no longer safe.
- The survivors on the shuttle Knight struggle with deteriorating hygiene and failing life support systems while being pursued by the Donnager.
- Amos and Naomi report that the ship's water recycling is insufficient for five people, pushing their resources to the limit.
- Holden and Naomi discuss the psychological toll on the crew, specifically Shed's inability to cope with the trauma of their situation.
Goddamn, Boss, Iâd give my left nut for food that didnâ t look like a dildo.
This is not a joke. This is not one of your mother âs drama fits. I
have solid inform ation that the Belt is about to be a very unsafe
place. Whatever differ ences we have we can work out later .
FOR YOUR OWN SAFETY COME HOME NOW .
Miller frowned. The air recyc ler hummed. Outside, the local kids
whistled high and loud. He tapped the screen, closing the last Bullshit Guilt
Trip message, then opened it again.
It had been sent from Luna, two weeks before James Holden and the
Canterbury raised the specter of war between Mars and the Belt.
This sideshow was getting interesting.
Chapter Nine
Holden
âThe ships are still not responding,â Naomi said, punching a key sequence
on the comm panel.
âI didnâ t think they would. But I want to show the Donnager that
weâre worried about being followed. Itâs all covering our asses at this
point,â Holden said.
Naomiâ s spine popped as she stretched. Holden pulled a protein bar out
of the box in his lap and threw it at her .
âEat.â
She peeled the wrapping off while Amos clambered up the ladder and
threw himself into the couch next to her. His coverall was so filthy it
shined. Just as with the others, three days on the cramped shuttle hadnâ t
helped his personal hygiene. Holden reached up and scratched his own
greasy hair with distaste. The Knight was too small for showers, and the
zero-g sinks were too small to stick your head in. Amos had solved the hair-
washing problem by shaving all of his off. Now he just had a ring of stubble
around his bald spot. Somehow , Naomiâ s hair stayed shiny and mostly oil
free. Holden wondered how she did that.
âToss me some chow , XO,â Amos said.
âCaptain,â Naomi corrected.
Holden threw a protein bar at him too. Amos snatched it from the air,
then considered the long, thin package with distaste.
âGoddamn, Boss, Iâd give my left nut for food that didnâ t look like a
dildo,â Amos said, then tapped his food against Naomiâ s in mock toast.
âTell me about our water ,â Holden said.
âWell, Iâve been crawling aroun d between hulls all day. Iâve tightened
everything that can be tightened, and slapped epoxy on anythin g that canât,
so we arenâ t dripping anywhere.â
âItâll still be right down to the wire, Jim,â Naomi said. âThe Knight âs
recycling systems are crap. She was never intended to process five peopleâ s
worth of waste back into potables for two weeks.â
âDown to the wire, I can handle. Weâll just learn to live with each
other âs stink. I was worried about ânowhere near enough.ââ
âSpeaking of which, Iâm gonna head to my rack and spray on some
more deodorant,â Amos said. âAfter all day crawling in the shipâ s guts, my
stinkâ s even keeping me awake tonight.â
Amos swallowed the last of his food and smacked his lips with mock
relish, then climbed out of his couch and headed down the crew ladder .
Holden took a bite of his own bar . It tasted like greased cardboard.
âWhatâ s Shed up to?â he asked. âHeâ s been pretty quiet.â
Naomi, frowning, put her half-eaten bar down on the comm panel.
âI wante d to talk to you about that. Heâs not doing well, Jim. Out of all
of us, heâs havin g the hardest time with⌠whatâ s happened. You and Alex
were both navy men. They train you to deal with losing shipmates. Amos
has been flying so long this is actually the third ship thatâs gone down under
him, if you can believe that.â
âAnd you are made entirely of cast iron and titanium,â Holde n said,
only pretending to joke.
âNot entirely . Eighty , ninety percent. Tops,â Naomi said with a half
smile. âSeriously , though. I think you should talk to him.â
âAnd say what? Iâm no psychiatrist. The navy version of this speech
involves duty and honorable sacrifice and avenging fallen comrades.
Doesnâ t work as well when your friends have been murdered for no
apparent reason and thereâ s essentially no chance you can do anything about
it.â
Grief in the Sick Bay
- Naomi encourages Holden to take on his leadership role by checking on Shed, the ship's medic, who is struggling with the trauma of the Canterbury's destruction.
- Holden finds Shed obsessively cataloging medical supplies in the Knight's cramped sick bay as a coping mechanism to avoid facing the reality of their situation.
- Shed experiences a manic breakdown, fixating on the absurdity of having genital wart cream but lacking essential trauma supplies like coagulants or pain medication.
- Holden is forced to use brutal honesty to snap Shed out of his spiral, reminding him that the crew they are worrying about is already dead.
- The interaction highlights the immense psychological pressure on the survivors as they face a ten-day journey toward an uncertain encounter with a Martian battleship.
âEveryone on the Cant is dead,â Holden said, making each word clear and strong and brutal.
âAnd you are made entirely of cast iron and titanium,â Holde n said,
only pretending to joke.
âNot entirely . Eighty , ninety percent. Tops,â Naomi said with a half
smile. âSeriously , though. I think you should talk to him.â
âAnd say what? Iâm no psychiatrist. The navy version of this speech
involves duty and honorable sacrifice and avenging fallen comrades.
Doesnâ t work as well when your friends have been murdered for no
apparent reason and thereâ s essentially no chance you can do anything about
it.â
âI didnâ t say you had to fix him. I said you needed to talk to him.â
Holden got up from his couch with a salute.
âYes, sir,â he said. At the ladder he paused. âAgain, thank you, Naomi.
Iâd reallyââ
âI know . Go be the captain,â she said, turning back to her panel and
calling up the ship ops screen. âIâll keep waving at the neighbors.â
Holden found Shed in the Knight âs tiny sick bay. Really more a sick closet.
Other than a reinforced cot, the cabinets of supplies, and a half dozen pieces
of wall-m ounted equipment, there was just enough room for one stool stuck
to the floor on magnetic feet. Shed was sitting on it.
âHey , buddy , mind if I come in?â Holden asked. Did I actually say
âHey , buddyâ?
Shed shrugged and pulled up an inventory screen on the wall panel,
opening various drawers and staring at the contents. Pretending heâd been
in the middle of something.
âLook, Shed. This thing with the Canterbury has really hit everyone
hard, and youâveââ Holden said. Shed turned, holding up a white squeeze
tube.
âThree percent acetic acid solution. Didnâ t realize we had this out here.
The Cant âs run out, and Iâve got three people with GW who could really use
it. Whyâd they put it on the Knight, I wonder ,â Shed said.
âGW?â was all Holden could think to reply .
âGenital warts. Acetic acid solution is the treatment for any visible
warts. Burns âem off. Hurts like hell, but it does the job. No reason to keep
it on the shuttle. Medical inventory is always so messed up.â
Holden opened his mouth to speak, found nothing to say, and closed it
again.
âWeâve got acetic acid cream,â Shed said, his voice increasingly shrill,
âbut no elemcet for pain. Which do you think youâd need more on a rescue
shuttle? If weâd found anyone on that wreck with a bad case of GW, weâd
have been set. A broken bone? Y ouâre out of luck. Just suck it up.â
âLook, Shed,â Holden said, trying to break in.
âOh, and look at this. No coag ulant booster . What the hell? Hey, no
chance anyone on a rescue mission could, you know , start bleeding. Catch a
case of red bumps on your crank, sure, but bleeding? No way! I mean,
weâve got four cases of syphilis on the Cant right now. One of the oldest
diseases in the book, and we still canât get rid of it. I tell those guys, âThe
hookers on Saturn Station are banging every ice bucker on the circuit, so
put the glove on,â but do they listen? No. So here we are with syphilis and
not enough ciprofloxacin.â
Holden felt his jaw slide forward. He gripped the side of the hatch and
leaned into the room.
âEveryone on the Cant is dead,â Holden said, making each word clear
and strong and brutal. âEveryon e is dead. No one needs the antibiotics. No
one needs wart cream.â
Shed stopped talking, and all the air went out of him like heâd been gut
punched. He closed the drawer s in the supply cabinet and turned off the
inventory screen with small precise movements.
âI know ,â he said in a quiet voice. âIâm not stupid. I just need some
time.â
âWe all do. But weâre stuck in this tiny can together . Iâll be honest, I
came down here because Naomi is worried about you, but now that Iâm
here, youâre freaking me the hell out. Thatâ s okay , because Iâm the captain
now and itâ s my job. But I canâ t have you freaking Alex or Amos out. W eâre
ten days from being grabbed by a Martian battleship, and thatâs scary
enough without the doctor falling apart.â
A Message from the Butcher
- Captain Holden confronts Shed in the medical bay, demanding he stop hiding his fear and instead share his trauma with the crew to maintain ship stability.
- The crew of the Rocinante receives a highly precise tightbeam transmission from a remote construction site in the Belt managed by Tycho.
- The message is from Fred Johnson, a legendary and controversial figure known as a former UN military hero who defected to the Belter cause.
- Holden and his crew are stunned by the contact, recognizing Johnson as a man who represents both a hero to the Belt and a disgrace to Earth.
Something out there has a comm array thatâll put a dot the size of your anus on us from over three AU away.
Shed stopped talking, and all the air went out of him like heâd been gut
punched. He closed the drawer s in the supply cabinet and turned off the
inventory screen with small precise movements.
âI know ,â he said in a quiet voice. âIâm not stupid. I just need some
time.â
âWe all do. But weâre stuck in this tiny can together . Iâll be honest, I
came down here because Naomi is worried about you, but now that Iâm
here, youâre freaking me the hell out. Thatâ s okay , because Iâm the captain
now and itâ s my job. But I canâ t have you freaking Alex or Amos out. W eâre
ten days from being grabbed by a Martian battleship, and thatâs scary
enough without the doctor falling apart.â
âIâm not a doctor , Iâm just a tech,â Shed said, his voice very small.
âYouâre our doctor, okay? To the four of us here with you on this ship,
youâre our doctor . If Alex starts having post-traumatic stress episodes and
needs meds to keep it together , heâll come to you. If youâre down here
jabbering about warts, heâll turn around and go back up to the cockpit and
just do a really bad job of flying. You want to cry? Do it with all of us.
Weâll sit togethe r in the galley and get drunk and cry like babies, but weâll
do it together where itâ s safe. No more hiding down here.â
Shed nodded.
âCan we do that?â he said.
âDo what?â Holden asked.
âGet drunk and cry like babies?â
âHell yes. That is officially on the schedule for tonight. Report to the
galley at twenty hundred hours, Mr . Garvey . Bring a cup.â
Shed started to reply when the general comm clicked on and Naomi
said, âJim, come back up to ops.â
Holden gripped Shedâ s shoulder for a moment, then left.
In ops, Naomi had the comm screen up again and was speaking to
Alex in low tones. The pilot was shaking his head and frown ing. A map
glowed on her screen.
âWhatâ s up?â Holden asked.
âWeâre getting a tightbeam, Jim. It locked on and started transmitting
just a couple minutes ago,â Naomi replied.
âFrom the Donnager ?â The Martian battleship was the only thing he
could think of that might be inside laser communications range.
âNo. From the Belt,â Naomi said. âAnd not from Ceres, or Eros, or
Pallas either . None of the big stations.â
She pointed at a small dot on her display .
âItâs coming from here.â
âThatâ s empty space,â Holden said.
âNope. Alex checked. Itâs the site of a big construction project Tycho
is working on. Not a lot of detail on it, but radar returns are pretty strong.â
âSomething out there has a comm array thatâll put a dot the size of
your anus on us from over three AU away ,â Alex said.
âOkay , wow , thatâs impressive. What is our anus-sized dot saying?â
Holden asked.
âYouâll never believe this,â Naomi said, and turned on the playback.
A dark-skinned man with the heavy facial bones of an Earther
appeared on the screen. His hair was graying, and his neck was ropy with
old muscle. He smiled and said, âHello, James Holden. My name is Fred
Johnson.â
Holden hit the pause button.
âThis guy looks familiar . Search the shipâ s database for that name,â he
said.
Naomi didnâ t move; she just stared at him with a puzzled look on her
face.
âWhat?â he said.
âThatâ s Frederick Johnson, â she said.
âOkay .â
âColonel Frederick Lucius Johnson.â
The pause might have been a second; it might have been an hour .
âJesus,â was all Holden could think to say .
The man on the screen had once been among the most decorated
officers in the UN military , and ended up one of its most embarrassing
failures. To Belters, he was the Earther Sherif f of Nottingham whoâd turned
into Robin Hood. T o Earth, he was the hero whoâd fallen from grace.
Fred Johnson started his rise to fame with a series of high-profile
captures of Belt pirates during one of the periods of tension between Earth
and Mars that seemed to ramp up every few decades and then fade away
again. Whenever the systemâ s two superpowers rattled their sabers at each
The Butcher of Anderson Station
- Fred Johnson rose to fame as a highly effective UN military officer who successfully suppressed piracy in the Belt during Earth-Mars tensions.
- A minor surcharge on air and water at Anderson Station triggered an armed revolt by a small group of desperate Belters.
- The UN response, led by Johnson, resulted in a televised three-day slaughter that ended with the iconic image of Johnson standing among corpses.
- Haunted by the massacre, Johnson resigned and later re-emerged as a mediator who successfully prevented a similar bloodbath at the Pallas colony.
The iconic image of the video was not one of the fighting, but the last image the station cameras caught before they were cut off: Colonel Johnson in station ops, surrounded by the corpses of the Belters whoâd made their last stand there, surveying the carnage with a flat stare and hands limp at his sides.
officers in the UN military , and ended up one of its most embarrassing
failures. To Belters, he was the Earther Sherif f of Nottingham whoâd turned
into Robin Hood. T o Earth, he was the hero whoâd fallen from grace.
Fred Johnson started his rise to fame with a series of high-profile
captures of Belt pirates during one of the periods of tension between Earth
and Mars that seemed to ramp up every few decades and then fade away
again. Whenever the systemâ s two superpowers rattled their sabers at each
other , crime in the Belt rose. Colonel JohnsonâCaptain Johnson at the time
âand his small wing of three missile frigates destroyed a dozen pirate ships
and two major bases in a two-year span. By the time the Coalition had
stopped bickerin g, piracy was actually down in the Belt, and Fred Johnson
was the name on everyoneâ s lips. He was promoted and given command
over the Coalitio n marine division tasked with policing the Belt, where he
continued to serve with distinction.
Until Anderson Station.
A tiny shipping depot almost on the opposite side of the Belt from the
major port Ceres, most people, including most Belters, would not have been
able to find Anderson Station on a map. Its only importance was as a minor
distribution station for water and air in one of the sparsest stretches of the
Belt. Fewer than a million Belters got their air from Anderson.
Gustav Marconi, a career Coalition bureaucrat on the station, decided
to implement a 3-percent handling surchar ge on shipments passing through
the station in hopes of raising the bottom line. Less than 5 percent of the
Belters buying their air from Anderson were living bottle to mouth, so just
under fifty thousand Belters might have to spend one day of each month not
breathing. Only a small percentage of those fifty thousand lacked the
leeway in their recycling systems to cover this minor shortfal l. Of those,
only a small portion felt that armed revolt was the correct course.
Which was why of the million affected, only 170 armed Belters came
to the station, took over, and threw Marconi out an airlock. They demanded
a govern ment guarantee that no further handling surchar ges would be added
to the price of air and water coming through the station.
The Coalition sent Colonel Johnson.
During the Massacre of Anders on Station, the Belters kept the station
cameras rolling, broadcasting to the solar system the entire time. Everyone
watched as Coalition marines fought a long, gruesome corridor -to-corridor
battle against men with nothing to lose and no reason to surrender . The
Coalition wonâit was a foregone conclusionâbut it took three days of
broadcast slaug hter. The iconic image of the video was not one of the
fighting, but the last image the station cameras caught before they were cut
off: Colonel Johnson in station ops, surrounded by the corpses of the
Belters whoâd made their last stand there, surveying the carnage with a flat
stare and hands limp at his sides.
The UN tried to keep Colonel Johnsonâ s resignation quiet, but he was
too much a public figure. The video of the battle dominated the nets for
weeks, only displaced when the former Colonel Johnson made a public
statement apolog izing for the massacre and announcing that the relationship
between the Belt and the inner planets was untenable and heading toward
ever greater tragedy .
Then he vanishe d. He was almos t forgotten, a footnote in the history of
human carnage, until the Pallas colony revolt four years later. This time
refinery metalworkers kicked the Coalition governor off station. Instead of
a tiny way station with 170 rebels, it was a major Belt rock with more than
150,000 people on it. When the Coalition ordered in the marines, everyone
expected a bloodbath.
Colonel Johnson came out of nowhere and talked the metalworkers
down; he talked the Coalition commanders into holding back the marines
until the station could be handed over peacefully . He spent more than a year
The Butcher's Private Message
- Fred Johnson, once known as the Butcher of Anderson Station, has reinvented himself as a high-ranking OPA leader and peace-seeking Belt icon.
- Johnson sends a private message to Holden warning him that he is being manipulated and that a mysterious third party may be trying to start a war.
- The message includes a secret code word, 'ubiquitous', for Holden to use in future broadcasts to signal whether he is speaking freely or under Martian coercion.
- The crew of the Knight, feeling trapped between Martian warships and unknown pursuers, considers Johnson's offer of sanctuary in the Belt.
- Despite his violent past, Johnson claims to be the person in the solar system who wants war the least, having spent a decade working for Belter rights through negotiation.
I donât know what youâve heard, but we arenât all a bunch of cowboys itching for a chance to shoot our way to freedom.
human carnage, until the Pallas colony revolt four years later. This time
refinery metalworkers kicked the Coalition governor off station. Instead of
a tiny way station with 170 rebels, it was a major Belt rock with more than
150,000 people on it. When the Coalition ordered in the marines, everyone
expected a bloodbath.
Colonel Johnson came out of nowhere and talked the metalworkers
down; he talked the Coalition commanders into holding back the marines
until the station could be handed over peacefully . He spent more than a year
negotiating with the Coalition governor to improve working conditions in
the refineries. And suddenly , the Butcher of Anderson Station was a Belt
hero and an icon.
An icon who was beaming private messages to the Knight.
Holden hit the play button, and that Fred Johnson said, âMr. Holden, I
think youâre being played. Let me say straight out that I am speaking to you
as an official representative of the Outer Planets Alliance. I donât know
what youâve heard, but we arenât all a bunch of cowboys itching for a
chance to shoot our way to freed om. Iâve spent the last ten years working to
make life for the Belters better without anyone getting shot. I believe in this
idea so deeply that I gave up my Earth citizenship when I came out here.
âI tell you that so youâll know how invested I am. I may be the one
person in the solar system who wants war the least, and my voice is loud in
OPA councils.
âYou may have heard some of the broadcasts beating on the war drums
and calling for revenge against Mars for what happened to your ship. Iâve
talked to every OPA cell leader I know , and no oneâs claiming
responsibility .
âSomeone is working very hard to start a war. If itâs Mars, then when
you get on that ship, youâll never say another word in public that isnât fed to
you by Martian handlers. I donât want to think it is Mars. I canât see how
they would get anything out of a war. So my hope is that even after the
Donnager picks you up, you can still be a player in what follows.
âI am sending you a keyword. Next time you broadcast publicly , use
the word ubiquitous within the first sentence of the broadcast to signal that
youâre not being coerced. Donâ t use it, and Iâll assume you are. Either way,
I want you to know you have allies in the Belt.
âI donât know who or what you were before, but your voice matters
now. If you want to use that voice to make things better , I will do anything I
can to help you do it. If you get free, contact me at the address that follows.
I think maybe you and I have a lot to talk about.
âJohnson out.â
The crew sat in the galley drinking a bottle of ersatz tequila Amos had
scrounged from somewhere. Shed was politely sipping from a small cup of
it and trying to hide his grima ce each time. Alex and Amos drank like
sailors: a finger full in the bottom of the cup, tossed back all at once. Alex
had a habit of saying âHooboy!â after each shot. Amos just used a different
profanity each time. He was up to his eleventh shot and so far had not
repeated himself.
Holden stared at Naomi. She swirled the tequila in her cup and stared
back. He found himself wondering what sort of genetic mashup had
produced her features. Definite ly some African and South American in
there. Her last name hinted at Japanese ancestry , which was only barely
visible, as a slight epicanthic fold. Sheâd never be conventionall y pretty , but
from the right angle she was actually fairly striking.
Shit, Iâm drunker than I thought.
To cover , he said, âSoâŚâ
âSo Colonel Johnson is calling you now. Quite the importan t man
youâve become, sir ,â Naomi replied.
Amos put down his cup with exaggerated care.
âBeen meaning to ask about that, sir. Any chance we might take up his
offer of help and just head back to the Belt?â he said. âDonâ t know about
you, but with the Martian battleship in front, and the half dozen mystery
ships behind, itâ s starting to feel pretty fuckinâ crowded out here.â
Tensions and Conspiracies
- The crew of the Rocinante debates their flight path as they are pursued by a Martian battleship and six mysterious unidentified vessels.
- Holden and his team decide to maintain their course toward the Donnager, fearing that any change in trajectory would be interpreted as a hostile act.
- Alex expresses confusion over the tactical intentions of the mystery ships, noting they lack the firepower to challenge a Martian battlewagon.
- On Ceres, Detective Miller is shut down by Captain Shaddid when he attempts to link his missing person case to the larger political instability in the Belt.
Sheâs burninâ the furniture to catch us before the Belter ships do.
there. Her last name hinted at Japanese ancestry , which was only barely
visible, as a slight epicanthic fold. Sheâd never be conventionall y pretty , but
from the right angle she was actually fairly striking.
Shit, Iâm drunker than I thought.
To cover , he said, âSoâŚâ
âSo Colonel Johnson is calling you now. Quite the importan t man
youâve become, sir ,â Naomi replied.
Amos put down his cup with exaggerated care.
âBeen meaning to ask about that, sir. Any chance we might take up his
offer of help and just head back to the Belt?â he said. âDonâ t know about
you, but with the Martian battleship in front, and the half dozen mystery
ships behind, itâ s starting to feel pretty fuckinâ crowded out here.â
Alex snorted. âAre you kidding? If we flipped now, weâd be just about
stopped by the time the Donnager caught up to us. Sheâs burninâ the
furniture to catch us before the Belter ships do. If we start headinâ their
direction, the Donnie might take that as a sign weâve switched teams, frag
the whole lot of us.â
âI agree with Mr. Kamal,â Holden said. âWeâve picked our course and
weâre going to see it through. I wonâ t be losing Fredâ s contact information
anytime soon. Speaking of which, have you deleted his message yet,
Naomi?â
âYes, sir. Scrubbed it from the shipâ s memory with steel wool. The
Martians will never know he talked to us.â
Holden nodded and unzipped his jumpsuit a little further . The galley
was starting to feel very hot with five drunk people in it. Naomi raised an
eyebrow at his days-old T -shirt. Embarrassed, he zipped back up.
âThose ships donât make any sense to me, Boss,â Alex said. âA half
dozen ships flyinâ kamikaze missions with nukes strapped to their hulls
might make a dent in a battlewagon like the Donnie, but not much else
would. She opens up with her point defense network and rail guns, she can
create a no-fly zone a thousand klicks across. They could be killinâ those
six ships with torpedoes already , âcept I think theyâre as confused about
who they are as we are.â
âTheyâll know they canât catch us before the Donnager picks us up,â
Holden said. âAnd they canât take her in a fight. So I donât know what
theyâre up to.â
Amos poured the last of the tequila into everyoneâ s cups and held his
up in a toast.
âI guess weâll fucking find out.â
Chapter T en
Miller
Captain Shaddid tapped the tip of her middle finger against her thumb when
she started getting annoyed. It was a small sound, soft as a catâs paws, but
ever since Miller first noticed her habit, it had seemed louder . Quiet as it
was, it could fill her of fice.
âMiller ,â she said, smiling as if she meant it. âWeâre all on edge these
days. These have been hard, hard times.â
âYes, sir,â Miller said, lowering his head like a fullback determined to
muscle his way through all defenders, âbut I think this is impor tant enough
to deserve closerââ
âItâs a favor for a shareholder ,â Shaddid said. âHer father got jumpy .
Thereâ s no reason to think he meant Mars blasting the Canterbury . Tariffs
are going up again. There was a mine blowout on one of the Red Moon
operations. Eros is having trouble with their yeast farm. We donât go
through a day without somethin g happening in the Belt that would make a
daddy scared for his precious little flower .â
âYes, sir , but the timingââ
Her fingers upped tempo. Miller bit his lips. The cause was lost.
âDonâ t go chasing conspiracies,â Shaddid said. âW eâve got a full board
of crimes we know are real. Politics, war, system-wide cabals of inner
planet bad guys searching for ways to screw us over? Not our mandate. Just
get me a report that says youâre looking, Iâll send it back up the line, and we
can get back to our jobs.â
âYes, sir .â
âAnything else?â
âNo, sir .â
Shaddid nodded and turned back to her terminal. Miller pluck ed his
Kibble and Commerce
- Detective Miller's superior, Shaddid, orders him to stop investigating potential conspiracies and focus on routine police work.
- Miller feels a deep sense of dissatisfaction after being told to perform a 'half-assed' job on a case he finds compelling.
- Miller and his partner Havelock transition from high-stakes investigation to a mundane extortion complaint at a local hardware shop.
- The detectives encounter a frustrated shop manager who is impatient with the slow pace of the station's bureaucracy.
It was like Shaddid had given a dog just one bite of fresh meat, then pointed it back toward kibble.
âYes, sir , but the timingââ
Her fingers upped tempo. Miller bit his lips. The cause was lost.
âDonâ t go chasing conspiracies,â Shaddid said. âW eâve got a full board
of crimes we know are real. Politics, war, system-wide cabals of inner
planet bad guys searching for ways to screw us over? Not our mandate. Just
get me a report that says youâre looking, Iâll send it back up the line, and we
can get back to our jobs.â
âYes, sir .â
âAnything else?â
âNo, sir .â
Shaddid nodded and turned back to her terminal. Miller pluck ed his
hat from the corner of her desk and headed out. One of the station house air
filters had gone bad over the weekend, and the replacement gave the rooms
a reassuring smell of new plastic and ozone. Miller sat at his desk, fingers
laced behind his head, and stared at the light fixture above him. The knot
that had tied itself in his gut hadnâ t loosened up. That was too bad.
âNot so good, then?â Havelock asked.
âCould have gone better .â
âShe pull the job?â
Miller shook his head. âNo, itâs still mine. She just wants me to do it
half-assed.â
âCould be worse. At least you get to find out what happened. And if
you maybe spend a little time after hours digging into it just for practice,
you know?â
âYeah,â Miller said. âPractice.â
Their desks were unnaturally clean, his and Havelockâ s both. The
barrier of paperwork Havelock had created between himself and the station
had eroded away , and Miller could tell from his partner âs eyes and the way
his hands moved that the cop in Havelock wanted to get back into the
tunnels. He couldnâ t tell if it was to prove himself before his transfer went
through, or just to break a few heads. Maybe those were two ways of saying
the same thing.
Just donât get yourself killed before you get out of here, Miller thought.
Aloud, he said, âWhat have we got?â
âHardware shop. Sector eight, third level in,â Havelock said.
âExtortion complaint.â
Miller sat for a moment, considering his own reluctance as if it
belonged to someone else. It was like Shaddid had given a dog just one bite
of fresh meat, then pointed it back toward kibble. The temptation to blow
off the hardware shop bloomed, and for a moment he almost gave in. Then
he sighed, swung his feet down to the decking, and stood.
âAll right, then,â he said. âLetâ s go make the station safe for
commerce.â
âWords to live by,â Havelock said, checking his gun. Heâd been doing
that a lot more recently .
The shop was an entertainment franchise. Clean white fixtures offering
up custom rigs for interactive environments: battle simulations, exploration
games, sex. A womanâ s voice ululated on the sound system, somewhere
between an Islamic call to prayer and orgasm with a drumbeat. Half the
titles were in Hindi with Chinese and Spanish translations. The other half
were English with Hindi as the second language. The clerk was hardly more
than a boy. Sixteen, seventeen years old with a weedy black beard he wore
like a badge.
âCan I help you?â the boy said, eying Havelock with disdain just short
of contempt. Havelock pulled his ID, making sure the kid got a good long
look at his gun when he did it.
âWeâd like to talk toââMiller glanced at the complaint form on his
terminal screenââAsher Kamamatsu. He here?â
The manager was a fat man, for a Belter . Taller than Havelock, the
man carried fat around his belly and thick muscles through the shoulders,
arms, and neck. If Miller squint ed, he could see the seventeen-year -old boy
he had been under the layers of time and disappointment, and it looked a lot
like the clerk out front. The office was almost too small for the three of
them and stacked with boxes of pornographic software.
âYou catch them?â the manager said.
âNo,â Miller said. âStill trying to figure out who they are.â
âDammit, I already told you. Thereâ s pictures of them off the store
camera. I gave you his fucking name.â
Miller looked at his terminal. The suspect was named Mateo Judd, a
The Shifting Underworld
- Detective Miller investigates a protection racket at a store filled with pornographic software, identifying a dockworker named Mateo Judd as the primary suspect.
- The store manager reveals that established organized crime groups like the Loca Greiga have mysteriously vanished from their usual territories.
- Miller discovers that this 'ecological collapse' of the old crime syndicates began months before the recent political tension with Mars.
- The emergence of new, aggressive players in the evacuated criminal niche suggests a coordinated shift in the power structure of Ceres.
All the organized crime on Ceres suffering the same ecological collapse, and now someone new moving into the evacuated niche.
arms, and neck. If Miller squint ed, he could see the seventeen-year -old boy
he had been under the layers of time and disappointment, and it looked a lot
like the clerk out front. The office was almost too small for the three of
them and stacked with boxes of pornographic software.
âYou catch them?â the manager said.
âNo,â Miller said. âStill trying to figure out who they are.â
âDammit, I already told you. Thereâ s pictures of them off the store
camera. I gave you his fucking name.â
Miller looked at his terminal. The suspect was named Mateo Judd, a
dockworker with an unspectacular criminal record.
âYou think itâs just him, then,â Miller said. âAll right. Weâll just go
pick him up, throw him in the can. No reason for us to find out who heâs
working for. Probably no one whoâll take it wrong, anyway . My experience
with these protection rackets, the purse boys get replaced whenever one
goes down. But since youâre sure this guyâ s the whole problemâŚâ
The manager âs sour expression told Miller heâd made his point.
Havelock, leaning against a stack of boxes marked
,
smiled.
âWhy donâ t you tell me what he wanted,â Miller said.
âI already told the last cop,â the manager said.
âTell me.â
âHe was selling us a private insurance plan. Hundred a month, same as
the last guy .â
âLast guy?â Havelock said. âSo this happened before?â
âSure,â the manager said. âEver yone has to pay some, you know . Price
of doing business.â
Miller closed his terminal, frowning. âPhilosophical. But if itâs the
price of doing business, whatâre we here for?â
âBecause I thought you⌠you people had this shit under control. Ever
since we stopped paying the Loca, Iâve been able to turn a decent profit.
Now itâ s all starting up again.â
âHold on,â Miller said. âYouâre telling me the Loca Greiga stopped
charging protection?â
âSure. Not just here. Half of the guys I know in the Bough just stopped
showing up. We figured the cops had actually done something for once.
Now weâve got these new basta rds, and itâs the same damn thing all over
again.â
A crawling feeling made its way up Miller âs neck. He looked up at
Havelock, who shook his head . He hadnâ t heard of it either . The Golden
Bough Society , Sohiroâ s crew , the Loca Greiga. All the organized crime on
Ceres suffering the same ecological collapse, and now someone new
moving into the evacuated niche. Might be opportunism. Might be
something else. He almost didnât want to ask the next questions. Havelock
was going to think he was paranoid.
âHow long has it been since the old guys called on you for
protection?â Miller asked.
âI donâ t know . Long time.â
âBefore or after Mars killed that water hauler?â
The manager folded his thick arms; his eyes narrowed.
âBefore,â he said. âMaybe a month or two. Sâthat got to do with
anything?â
âJust trying to get the time scale right,â Miller said. âThe new guy.
Mateo. He tell you who was backing his new insurance plan?â
âThatâ s your job, figuring it. Right?â
The manager âs expression had closed down so hard Miller imagined he
could hear the click. Yes, Ashe r Kamamatsu knew who was shaking him
down. He had balls enough to squeak about it but not to point the finger .
Interesting.
âWell, thanks for that,â Miller said, standing up. âWeâll let you know
what we find.â
âGlad youâre on the case,â the manager said, matching sarcasm for
sarcasm.
In the exterior tunnel, Miller stopped. The neighborhood was at the
friction point between sleazy and respectable. White marks showed where
graffiti had been painted over. Men on bicycles swerved and weaved, foam
Shaking the OPA Tree
- Detective Miller identifies Mateo Judd as a protection racketeer after reviewing security footage from a local shop.
- Miller discovers a connection between the thug and Julie Mao through a shared OPA armband found at both scenes.
- Seeking answers, Miller visits a known OPA-friendly bar to initiate a dialogue with the organization's representatives.
- Miller attempts to leverage his role as a 'realist' detective to establish a communication line regarding the Ceres black economy.
- The OPA contact remains elusive and skeptical, questioning Miller's motives while the detective tries to maintain station stability.
The split circle of the OPA was perfectly clear on the thugâs armbandâthe same kind of armband heâd found in Julie Maoâs hole.
could hear the click. Yes, Ashe r Kamamatsu knew who was shaking him
down. He had balls enough to squeak about it but not to point the finger .
Interesting.
âWell, thanks for that,â Miller said, standing up. âWeâll let you know
what we find.â
âGlad youâre on the case,â the manager said, matching sarcasm for
sarcasm.
In the exterior tunnel, Miller stopped. The neighborhood was at the
friction point between sleazy and respectable. White marks showed where
graffiti had been painted over. Men on bicycles swerved and weaved, foam
wheels hummin g on the polished stone. Miller walked slowly , his eyes on
the ceiling high above them until he found the security camera. He pulled
up his terminal, navigated to the logs that matched the camera code, and
cross-referenced the time code from the storeâ s still frames. For a moment,
he thum bed the controls, speeding people back and forth. And there was
Mateo, coming out of the shop. A smug grin deformed the manâ s face.
Miller froze the image and enhanced it. Havelock, watching over his
shoulder , whistled low .
The split circle of the OPA was perfectly clear on the thugâ s armband
âthe same kind of armband heâd found in Julie Maoâ s hole.
What kind of company have you been keeping, kid? Miller thought.
Youâre better than this. Y ou have to know youâr e better than this.
âHey , partner,â he said aloud. âThink you can write up the report on
that interview? Iâve got something Iâd like to do. Might not be too smart to
have you there. No of fense.â
Havelockâ s eyebrows crawled toward his hairline.
âYouâre going to question the OP A?â
âShake some trees, is all,â Miller said.
Miller would have thought that just being a security contractor in a known
OPA-convivial bar would be enough to get him noticed. In the event, half
the faces he recognized in the dim light of John Rock Gentle menâ s Club
were normal citizens. More than one of those were Star Helix, just like him,
when they were on duty. The music was pure Belter , soft chimes
accompanied by zither and guitar with lyrics in half a dozen languages. He
was on his fourth beer, two hours past the end of his shift, and on the edge
of giving up his plan as a losing scheme when a tall, thin man sat down at
the bar next to him. Acne-pocke d cheeks gave a sense of damage to a face
that otherwise seemed on the verge of laughter . It wasnâ t the first OPA
armband heâd seen that night, but it was worn with an air of defiance and
authority . Miller nodded.
âI heard youâve been asking about the OPA,â the man said. âInterested
in joining up?â
Miller smiled and lifted his glass, an intentionally noncommittal
gesture.
âYou who Iâd talk to if I did?â he asked, his tone light.
âMight be able to help.â
âMaybe you could tell me about a couple other things, then,â he said,
taking out his terminal and putting it on the fake bamboo bar with an
audible click. Mateo Juddâ s picture glowed on the screen. The OPA man
frowned, turning the screen to see it better .
âIâm a realist,â Miller said. âWhen Chucky Snails was running
protection, I wasnâ t above talkin g to his men. When the Hand took over and
then the Golden Bough Society after them. My job isnât to stop people from
bending the rules, itâs to keep Ceres stable. You understand what Iâm
saying?â
âI canât say I do,â the pock-marked man said. His accent made him
sound more educated than Miller had expected. âWho is this man?â
âHis nameâ s Mateo Judd. Heâs been starting a protection business in
sector eight. Says itâ s backed by the OP A.â
âPeople say things, Detective. It is Detective, isnât it? But you were
discussing realism.â
âIf the OP Aâs making a move on the Ceres black economy , itâs going to
be better all around if we can talk to each other . Communicate.â
The man chuckled and pushed the terminal back. The bartender paced
Dots Without Lines
- Detective Miller attempts to negotiate with a high-ranking OPA contact regarding a protection racket in sector eight.
- The OPA representative denies involvement in the racket and frames the organization's actions as a defense against 'economic terrorism' by Earth and Mars.
- Miller inquires about the missing Juliette Mao, but the contact remains elusive about her whereabouts or status within the OPA.
- The encounter leaves Miller feeling uneasy as he struggles to connect the OPA's political agenda with Julie Mao's disappearance and the shifting power dynamics on Ceres.
âToo many dots,â Miller said. âNot enough lines.â
âI canât say I do,â the pock-marked man said. His accent made him
sound more educated than Miller had expected. âWho is this man?â
âHis nameâ s Mateo Judd. Heâs been starting a protection business in
sector eight. Says itâ s backed by the OP A.â
âPeople say things, Detective. It is Detective, isnât it? But you were
discussing realism.â
âIf the OP Aâs making a move on the Ceres black economy , itâs going to
be better all around if we can talk to each other . Communicate.â
The man chuckled and pushed the terminal back. The bartender paced
by, a question in his eyes that wasnâ t asking if they needed anything. It
wasnâ t meant for Miller .
âI had heard that there was a certain level of corruption in Star Helix,â
the man said. âI admit Iâm impressed by your straightforward manner . Iâll
clarify . The OP A isnâ t a criminal or ganization.â
âReally? My mistake. I figured from the way it killed a lot of
peopleâŚâ
âYouâre baiting me. We defend ourselves against people who are
perpetrating economic terrorism against the Belt. Earthers. Martians. W e are
in the business of protecting Belters,â the man said. âEven you, Detective.â
âEconomic terrorism?â Miller said. âThat seems a little overheated.â
âYou think so? The inner planet s look on us as their labor force . They
tax us. They direct what we do. They enforce their laws and ignore ours in
the name of stability . In the last year, theyâve doubled the tariffs to Titania.
Five thousand people on an ice ball orbiting Neptune, months from
anywhere. The sunâs just a bright star to them. Do you think theyâre in a
position to get redress? Theyâve blocked any Belter freighters from taking
Europa contracts. They charge us twice as much to dock at Ganymede. The
science station on Phoebe? We arenât even allowed to orbit it. There isnât a
Belter in the place. Whatever they do there, we wonâ t find out until they sell
the technology back to us, ten years from now .â
Miller sipped his beer and nodded toward his terminal.
âSo this one isnâ t yours?â
âNo. He isnâ t.â
Miller nodded and put the terminal back in his pocket. Oddly , he
believed the man. He didnâ t hold himself like a thug. The bravado wasnâ t
there. The sense of trying to impress the world. No, this man was certain
and amused and, underneath it all, profoundly tired. Miller had known
soldiers like that, but not criminals.
âOne other thing,â Miller said. âIâm looking for someone.â
âAnother investigation?â
âNot exactly , no. Juliette Andromeda Mao. Goes by Julie.â
âShould I know the name?â
âSheâ s OPA,â Miller said with a shrug.
âDo you know everyone in Star Helix?â the man said, and when Miller
didnâ t answer , he added, âWe are considerably larger than your
corporation.â
âFair point,â Miller said. âBut if you could keep an ear out, Iâd
appreciate it.â
âI donâ t know that youâre in a position to expect favors.â
âNo harm asking.â
The pock-faced man chuckled, put a hand on Miller âs shoulder .
âDonâ t come back here, Detecti ve,â he said, and walked away into the
crowd.
Miller took another drink of his beer, frowning. An uncomf ortable
feeling of having made the wrong step fidgeted in the back of his mind.
Heâd been sure that the OPA was making a move on Ceres, capitalizing on
the death of the water hauler and the Beltâ s uptick in fear and hatred of the
inner planets. But how did that fit with Julie Maoâ s father and his
suspiciously well-timed anxiety? Or the disappearance of Ceres Stationâ s
supply of usual suspects in the first place? Thinking about it was like
watching a video that was just out of focus. The sense of it was almost
there, but only almost.
âToo many dots,â Miller said. âNot enough lines.â
âExcuse me?â the bartender said.
âNothing,â Miller said, pushing the half-empty bottle across the bar.
âThanks.â
In his hole, Miller turned on some music. The lyrical chants that
Too Many Dots
- Detective Miller struggles to connect the OPA's movements on Ceres with the disappearance of Julie Mao and the death of a water hauler.
- In an alcohol-induced dream, Miller experiences a false sense of revelation while conversing with a younger version of Julie Mao.
- The murder of Mateo Judd reveals that the OPA is not targeting the criminal underworld, but is instead moving against the police force.
- Holden observes the MCRN Donnager, noting its brutalist, 'office tower' design that prioritizes function and thrust over aesthetic beauty.
âToo many dots,â Miller said. âNot enough lines.â
feeling of having made the wrong step fidgeted in the back of his mind.
Heâd been sure that the OPA was making a move on Ceres, capitalizing on
the death of the water hauler and the Beltâ s uptick in fear and hatred of the
inner planets. But how did that fit with Julie Maoâ s father and his
suspiciously well-timed anxiety? Or the disappearance of Ceres Stationâ s
supply of usual suspects in the first place? Thinking about it was like
watching a video that was just out of focus. The sense of it was almost
there, but only almost.
âToo many dots,â Miller said. âNot enough lines.â
âExcuse me?â the bartender said.
âNothing,â Miller said, pushing the half-empty bottle across the bar.
âThanks.â
In his hole, Miller turned on some music. The lyrical chants that
Candace had liked, back when they were young and, if not hopeful, at least
more joyful in their fatalism. He set the lights to half power , hoping that if
he relaxed, if for just a few minutes he let go of the gnawing sense that he
had missed some critical detail, the missing piece might arrive on its own.
Heâd half expected Candace to appear in his mind, sighing and looking
crossly at him the way she had in life. Instead, he found himself talking
with Julie Mao. In the half sleep of alcohol and exhaustion, he imagined her
sitting at Havelockâ s desk. She was the wrong age, younger than the real
woman would be. She was the age of the smiling kid in her pictu re. The girl
who had raced in the Razorback and won. He had the sense of asking her
questions, and her answers had the power of revelation. Every thing made
sense. Not only the change in the Golden Bough Society and her own
abduction case, but Havelockâ s transfer , the dead ice hauler , Miller âs own
life and work. He dreamed of Julie Mao laughing, and he woke up late, with
a headache.
Havelock was waiting at his desk. His broad, short Earther face
seemed strangely alien, but Miller tried to shake it of f.
âYou look like crap,â Havelock said. âBusy night?â
âJust getting old and drinking cheap beer ,â Miller said.
One of the vice squad shouted something angry about her files being
locked again, and a computer tech scuttled across the station house like a
nervous cockroach. Havelock leaned closer , his expression grave.
âSeriously , Miller ,â Havelock said. âWeâre still partners, and⌠honest
to God, I think you may be the only friend Iâve got on this rock. You can
trust me. If thereâ s anything you want to tell me, Iâm good.â
âThatâ s great,â Miller said. âBut I donât know what youâre talking
about. Last night was a bust.â
âNo OP A?â
âSure, OPA. Anymore, you swing a dead cat in this station, youâll hit
three OP A guys. Just no good information.â
Havelock leaned back, lips pressed thin and bloodless. Miller âs shrug
asked a question, and the Earther nodded toward the board. A new
homicide topped the list. At three in the morning, while Miller had been
having inchoate dream conversations, someone had opened Mateo Juddâ s
hole and fired a shotgun cartridge full of ballistic gel into his left eye.
âWell,â Miller said, âcalled that one wrong.â
âWhich one?â Havelock said.
âOPAâs not moving in on the criminals,â Miller said. âTheyâre moving
in on the cops.â
Chapter Eleven
Holden
The Donnager was ugly .
Holden had seen pictures and videos of the old oceangoing navies of
Earth, and even in the age of steel, there had always been something
beautiful about them. Long and sleek, they had the appearance of something
leaning into the wind, a creature barely held on the leash. The Donnager
had none of that. Like all long-flight spacecraft, it was built in the âoffice
towerâ configuration: each deck one floor of the building, ladders or
elevators running down the axis. Constant thrust took the place of gravity .
But the Donnager actually looked like an office building on its side.
Square and blocky , with small bulbous projections in seemingly random
The Brutal Aesthetics of Power
- The MCRN Donnager is described as a massive, blocky battleship that prioritizes function over aesthetics, resembling a 130-story office building on its side.
- Holden reflects on how human beauty standards are rooted in aerodynamics, which are irrelevant for a ship that only moves through the vacuum of space.
- The crew of the Knight experiences a sense of dread and powerlessness as they are physically 'swallowed' by the battleship's docking bay.
- Holden instructs his crew to be completely compliant and unarmed to avoid provoking the Martian officers, who are known for their lack of humor.
- The transition from the Knight to the Donnager highlights the vast technological and military gap between the survivors and the Martian Navy.
Long and sleek, they had the appearance of something leaning into the wind, a creature barely held on the leash.
beautiful about them. Long and sleek, they had the appearance of something
leaning into the wind, a creature barely held on the leash. The Donnager
had none of that. Like all long-flight spacecraft, it was built in the âoffice
towerâ configuration: each deck one floor of the building, ladders or
elevators running down the axis. Constant thrust took the place of gravity .
But the Donnager actually looked like an office building on its side.
Square and blocky , with small bulbous projections in seemingly random
places. At nearly five hundred meters long, it was the size of a 130-story
building. Alex had said it was 250,000 tons dry weight, and it looked
heavier . Holden reflected, not for the first time, on how so much of the
human sense of aesthetics had been formed in a time when sleek objects cut
through the air. The Donnager would never move through anything thicker
than interstellar gas, so curves and angles were a waste of space. The result
was ugly .
It was also intim idating. As Holden watched from his seat next to Alex
in the cockpit of the Knight, the massive battleship matche d course with
them, looming close and then seeming to stop above them. A docking bay
opened, breaking up the Donnager âs flat black belly with a square of dim
red light. The Knight beeped insistently , reminding him of the targeting
lasers painting their hull. Holden looked for the point defense cannons
aimed at him. He couldnâ t find them.
When Alex spoke, Holden jumped.
âRoger that, Donnager ,â the pilot said. âWeâve got steering lock. Iâm
killing thrust.â
The last shreds of weight vanished. Both ships were still moving at
hundreds of kilometers a minute, but their matched courses felt like
stillness.
âGot docking permission, Cap. T ake her in?â
âIt seems late to make a run for it, Mr. Kamal,â Holden said. He
imagined Alex making a mistake that the Donnager interpreted as
threatening, and the point defense cannons throwing a couple hundred
thousand T eflon-coated chunks of steel through them.
âGo slowly , Alex,â he said.
âThey say one of those can kill a planet,â Naomi said over the comm.
She was at the ops station a deck below .
âAnyone can kill a planet from orbit,â Holden replied. âY ou donâ t even
need bombs. Just push anvils out the airlock. That thing out there could
kill⌠Shit. Anything.â
Tiny touches shifted them as the maneuvering rockets fired. Holden
knew that Alex was guiding them in, but he couldnâ t shake the feeling that
the Donnager was swallowing them.
Docking took nearly an hour . Once the Knight was inside the bay, a massive
manipulator arm grabbed her and put it down in an empty section of the
deck. Clamps grabbed the ship, the Knight âs hull reverberating with a
metallic bang that reminded Holden of a brig cellâ s maglocks.
The Martians ran a docking tube from one wall and mated up to the
Knight âs airlock. Holden gathered the crew at the inner door .
âNo guns, no knives, no anything that might look like a weapon,â he
said. âTheyâll probably be okay with hand terminals, but keep them turned
off just in case. If they ask for it, hand it over without complaint. Our
survival here may rest on them thinking weâre very compliant.â
âYeah,â Amos said. âFuckers killed McDowell, but we have to act
niceâŚâ
Alex started to respond, but Holden cut him of f.
âAlex, you did twenty flying with the MCRN. Anything else we
should know?â
âSame stuff you said, Boss,â Alex replied. âYes sir, no sir, and snap to
when given an order. The enlisted guys will be okay , but the officers get the
sense of humor trained out of âem.â
Holden looked at his tiny crew , hoping he hadnâ t killed them all by
bringing them here. He cycled open the lock, and they drifted down the
short docking tube in the zero g. When they reached the airlock at the endâ
flat gray composites and immaculately cleanâeveryone pushed down to
Boarding the Donnager
- Holden and his crew board the Martian battleship Donnager under heavy guard and the watchful eye of Captain Theresa Yao.
- The crew is subjected to a professional security sweep while facing the intimidating presence of armored Martian marines.
- Captain Yao reveals that six unidentified ships are trailing Holdenâs group and threatens to launch torpedoes if they do not change course.
- Holden observes the superior construction and immaculate maintenance of the Martian vessel compared to his experience in the UN Navy.
- The crew is led to their quarters as the ship begins to accelerate, transitioning from magnetic boots to thrust-induced gravity.
The rifles were pointed at him, so Holden put up his hands.
âAlex, you did twenty flying with the MCRN. Anything else we
should know?â
âSame stuff you said, Boss,â Alex replied. âYes sir, no sir, and snap to
when given an order. The enlisted guys will be okay , but the officers get the
sense of humor trained out of âem.â
Holden looked at his tiny crew , hoping he hadnâ t killed them all by
bringing them here. He cycled open the lock, and they drifted down the
short docking tube in the zero g. When they reached the airlock at the endâ
flat gray composites and immaculately cleanâeveryone pushed down to
the floor . Their magnetic boots grabbed on. The airlock closed and hissed at
them for severa l seconds before opening into a larger room with about a
dozen people standing in it. Holden recognized Captain Theresa Yao. There
were several others in naval officersâ dress, who were part of her staff; one
man in an enlist ed uniform with a look of thinly veiled impatie nce; and six
marines in heavy combat armor , carrying assault rifles. The rifles were
pointed at him, so Holden put up his hands.
âWeâre not armed,â he said, smiling and trying to look harmless.
The rifles didnâ t waver , but Captain Y ao stepped forward.
âWelcome aboard the Donnager ,â she said. âChief, check them.â
The enlisted man clumped towa rd them and quickly and professionally
patted them all down. He gave the thumbs-up to one of the marines. The
rifles went down, and Holden worked hard not to sigh with relief.
âWhat now , Captain?â Holden asked, keeping his voice light.
Yao looked Holden over critically for several seconds before
answering. Her hair was pulled tightly back, the few strands of gray making
straight lines. In person, he could see the softening of age at her jaw and the
corners of her eyes. Her stony expression had the same quiet arrogance that
all the naval captains heâd known shared. He wondered what she saw,
looking at him. He resisted the ur ge to straighten his greasy hair .
âChief Gunderson will take you down to your rooms and get you
settled in,â she replied. âSomeone will be along shortly to debrief you.â
Chief Gunderso n started to lead them from the room when Yao spoke
again, her voice suddenly hard.
âMr. Holden, if you know anything about the six ships that are
following you, speak now,â she said. âWe gave them a two-hour deadline to
change course about an hour ago. So far they havenâ t. In one hour Iâm
going to order a torpedo launch . If theyâre friends of yours, you could save
them a great deal of pain.â
Holden shook his head emphatically .
âAll I know is they came out of the Belt when you started out to meet
us, Capt ain,â Holden said. âThey havenâ t talked to us. Our best guess is
theyâre concerned citizens of the Belt coming to watch what happens.â
Yao nodded. If she found the thought of witnesses disconcerting, it
didnâ t show .
âTake them below , Chief,â she said, then turned away .
Chief Gunderson gave a soft whistle and pointed at one of the two
doors. Holdenâ s crew followed him out, the marines bringing up the rear . As
they moved through the Donnager , Holden took his first really up-close
look at a Martian capital ship. Heâd never served on a battleship in the UN
Navy , and heâd stepped foot on them maybe three times in seven years,
always in dock, and usually for a party . Every inch of the Donnager was
just a little sharper than any UN vessel heâd served on. Mars really does
build them better than we do.
âGoddamn, XO, they sure do keep their shit squeaky clean,â Amos
said behind him.
âAinâ t much to do on a long flight for most of the crew , Amos,â Alex
said. âSo when you arenâ t doinâ somethinâ else, you clean.â
âSee, thatâs why I work haule rs,â Amos said. âClean decks or get
drunk and screw , and Iâve got a preference.â
As they walked through a maze of corridors, the ship started a slight
vibration, and gravity slowly reappeared. They were under thrust. Holden
Aboard the Donnager
- Holden observes the superior craftsmanship and precision of the Martian battleship Donnager compared to UN vessels.
- The crew of the Canterbury is confined to a relatively spacious compartment under armed guard as the ship enters thrust.
- Captain Yao prepares for potential combat with six approaching ships, maintaining a cold and factual demeanor about using lethal force.
- Holden is separated from his crew and escorted by a marine lieutenant to meet with a mysterious figure named Lieutenant Lopez.
When Captain Yao had said sheâd fire her torpedoes in an hour, there hadnât been a hint of threat in her voice. It was just a flat statement of fact.
look at a Martian capital ship. Heâd never served on a battleship in the UN
Navy , and heâd stepped foot on them maybe three times in seven years,
always in dock, and usually for a party . Every inch of the Donnager was
just a little sharper than any UN vessel heâd served on. Mars really does
build them better than we do.
âGoddamn, XO, they sure do keep their shit squeaky clean,â Amos
said behind him.
âAinâ t much to do on a long flight for most of the crew , Amos,â Alex
said. âSo when you arenâ t doinâ somethinâ else, you clean.â
âSee, thatâs why I work haule rs,â Amos said. âClean decks or get
drunk and screw , and Iâve got a preference.â
As they walked through a maze of corridors, the ship started a slight
vibration, and gravity slowly reappeared. They were under thrust. Holden
used his heels to touch his bootsâ slide controls, turning the magnets of f.
They saw almost no one, and the few they did see moved fast and said
little, barely sparing them a glance. With six ships closing on them,
everyone would be at their duty stations. When Captain Yao had said sheâd
fire her torpedoes in an hour, there hadnâ t been a hint of threat in her voice.
It was just a flat statement of fact. For most of the young sailors on this
ship, it would probably be the first time theyâd ever been in a live combat
situationâif it came to that. Holden didnâ t believe it would.
He wondered what to make of the fact that Yao was prepared to take
out a handful of Belt ships just because they were running quiet and close.
It didnâ t suggest that theyâd hesitate to kill a water hauler , like the Cant, if
they thought there was reason to.
Gunderson brought them to a stop in front of a hatch with OQ117
printed on it. He slid a card through the lock and gestured everyone inside.
âBetter than Iâd expected,â Shed said, sounding impressed.
The compartment was large by ship standards. It had six high-g
couches and a small table with four chairs stuck to the deck with magnetic
feet. An open door in one bulkh ead showed a smaller compartment with a
toilet and sink. Gunderson and the marine lieutenant followed the crew
inside.
âThis is your rack for the time being,â the chief said. âThereâ s a comm
panel on the wall. Two of Lieutenant Kellyâ s people will be stationed
outside. Buzz them and theyâll send for anything you need.â
âHow about some chow?â Amos said.
âWeâll have some sent up. You are to remain here until called for,â
Gunderson said. âLieutenant Kelly , you have anything to add, sir?â
The marine lieutenant looked them over .
âThe men outside are there for your protection, but they will react
unpleasantly if you make any trouble,â he said. âY ou read me?â
âLoud and clear , Lieutenant,â Holden said. âDonâ t worry . My people
will be the easiest houseguests youâve ever had.â
Kelly nodded at Holden with what seemed like genuine gratitude. He
was a professional doing an unpleasant job. Holden sympathized. Also,
heâd known enough marines to know how unpleasant it could get if they felt
challenged.
Gunderson said, âCan you take Mr. Holden here to his appointment on
your way out, El T ee? Iâd like to get these folks squared away .â
Kelly nodded and took Holdenâ s elbow .
âCome with me, sir ,â he said.
âWhere am I going, Lieutenant?â
âLieutenant Lopez asked to see you as soon as you landed. Iâm taking
you to him.â
Shed looked nervously from the marine to Holden and back. Naomi
nodded. Theyâd all see each other again, Holden told himself. He even
thought it was likely to be true.
Kelly led Holden at a brisk pace through the ship. His rifle was no
longer at the ready but hanging from his shoulder loosely . Either heâd
decided Holden wasnâ t going to cause trouble, or that he could take him
down easily if he did.
âCan I ask who Lieutenant Lopez is?â
âHeâ s the guy who asked to see you,â Kelly said.
Kelly stopped at a plain gray door, rapped once, then took Holden
Interrogation of James Holden
- Holden is separated from his crew and taken to an interrogation room by a Martian marine for a meeting with Lieutenant Lopez.
- Lieutenant Lopez, a naval intelligence officer, uses focus-enhancing drugs to meticulously observe Holden's physical reactions during questioning.
- The interrogation reveals Holden's history in the UNN, including his dishonorable discharge for attempting to assault a superior officer.
- Holden explains his complex family background on Earth, involving a multi-parent co-op that pooled resources to maintain a small plot of land.
- Lopez questions Holden's motives for broadcasting the accusation that Mars was responsible for the destruction of the Canterbury.
Lopezâs pupils contracted to tiny points as he sucked the lozenge.
Shed looked nervously from the marine to Holden and back. Naomi
nodded. Theyâd all see each other again, Holden told himself. He even
thought it was likely to be true.
Kelly led Holden at a brisk pace through the ship. His rifle was no
longer at the ready but hanging from his shoulder loosely . Either heâd
decided Holden wasnâ t going to cause trouble, or that he could take him
down easily if he did.
âCan I ask who Lieutenant Lopez is?â
âHeâ s the guy who asked to see you,â Kelly said.
Kelly stopped at a plain gray door, rapped once, then took Holden
inside a small compartment with a table and two uncomforta ble-looking
chairs. A dark-h aired man was setting up a recorder . He waved one hand
vaguely in the direction of a chair. Holden sat. The chair was even less
comfortable than it looked.
âYou can go, Mr. Kelly ,â the man Holden assumed was Lope z said.
Kelly left and closed the door .
When Lopez had finished, he sat down across the table from Holden
and reached out one hand. Holden shook it.
âIâm Lieutenant Lopez. Kelly probably told you that. I work for naval
intelligence, which he almost certainly didnâ t tell you. My job isnât secret,
but they train jarheads to be tight-lipped.â
Lopez reached into his pocke t, took out a small packet of white
lozenges, and popped one into his mouth. He didnâ t offer one to Holden.
Lopezâ s pupils contracted to tiny points as he sucked the lozenge. Focus
drugs. Heâd be watching every tic of Holdenâ s face during questioning.
Tough to lie to.
âFirst Lieutenant James R. Holden, of Montana,â he said. It wasnâ t a
question.
âYes, sir ,â Holden said anyway .
âSeven years in the UNN, last posting on the destroyer Zhang Fei. â
âThatâ s me.â
âYour file says you were busted out for assaulting a superior officer,â
Lopez said. âThatâ s pretty clichĂŠ, Holden. You punched the old man?
Seriously?â
âNo. I missed. Broke my hand on a bulkhead.â
âHowâd that happen?â
âHe was quicker than I expected,â Holden replied.
âWhyâd you try?â
âI was projecting my self-loathing onto him. Itâs just a stroke of luck
that I actually wound up hurting the right person,â Holden said.
âSounds like youâve thought about it some since then,â Lopez said, his
pinprick pupils never moving from Holdenâ s face. âTherapy?â
âLots of time to think on the Canterbury ,â Holden replied.
Lopez ignored the obvious opening and said, âWhat did you come up
with, during all that thinking?â
âThe Coalition has been stepping on the necks of the people out here
for over a hundred years now . I didnâ t like being the boot.â
âAn OPA sympathizer , then?â Lopez said, his expression not changing
at all.
âNo. I didnâ t switch sides. I stopped playing. I didnâ t renoun ce my
citizenship. I like Montana. Iâm out here because I like flying, and only a
Belter rust trap like the Canterbury will hire me.â
Lopez smiled for the first time. âYouâre an exceedingly honest man,
Mr. Holden.â
âYes.â
âWhy did you claim that a Martian military vessel destroye d your
ship?â
âI didnâ t. I explained all that in the broadcast. It had technology only
available to inner planet fleets, and I found a piece of MCRN hardware in
the device that tricked us into stopping.â
âWeâll want to see that.â
âYouâre welcome to it.â
âYour file says you were the only child of a family co-op,â Lopez said,
acting as though theyâd never stopped talking about Holdenâ s past.
âYes, five fathers, three mothers.â
âSo many parents for only one child,â Lopez said, slowly unwrapping
another lozenge. The Martians had lots of space for traditional families.
âThe tax break for eight adults only having one child allowed them to
own twenty-two acres of decent farmland. There are over thirty billion
people on Earth. Twenty-two acres is a national park,â Holden said. âAlso,
the DNA mix is legit. They arenâ t parents in name only .â
âHow did they decide who carried you?â
âMother Elise had the widest hips.â
The Cost of Defiance
- Holden explains his unique genetic heritage, involving a collective of eight parents who pooled resources for a tax break and land ownership on Earth.
- Interrogator Lopez justifies the Martian Navy's lethal response to Belt ships as a necessary display of strength following Holden's public accusations.
- The interrogation is interrupted by a general quarters alarm, signaling that the Belt ships have surprisingly returned fire against the Martian vessel.
- The crew of the Canterbury waits in a windowless room, listening to the point defense cannons and contemplating the gruesome physical reality of hull decompression.
- Despite Holden's attempts to reassure the group of the ship's invulnerability, Naomi points out that the attackers are surviving longer than they should.
Itâs all fun and games till someone shoots back, Holden thought.
âYes, five fathers, three mothers.â
âSo many parents for only one child,â Lopez said, slowly unwrapping
another lozenge. The Martians had lots of space for traditional families.
âThe tax break for eight adults only having one child allowed them to
own twenty-two acres of decent farmland. There are over thirty billion
people on Earth. Twenty-two acres is a national park,â Holden said. âAlso,
the DNA mix is legit. They arenâ t parents in name only .â
âHow did they decide who carried you?â
âMother Elise had the widest hips.â
Lopez popped the second lozenge into his mouth and sucked on it a
few moments. Before he could speak again, the deck shook. The video
recorder jiggled on its arm.
âTorpedo launches?â Holden said. âGuess those Belt ships didnâ t
change course.â
âAny thoughts about that, Mr . Holden?â
âJust that you seem pretty willing to kill Belt ships.â
âYouâve put us in a position where we canâ t afford to seem weak. After
your accusations, there are a lot of people who donâ t think much of us.â
Holden shrugged. If the man was watching for guilt or remorse from
Holden, he was out of luck. The Belt ships had known what they were
going toward. They hadnâ t turned away . But still, something bothered him.
âThey might hate your living guts,â Holden said. âBut itâs hard to find
enough suicidal people to crew six ships. Maybe they think they can outrun
torpedoes.â
Lopez didnâ t move, his whole body preternaturally still with the focus
drugs pouring through him.
âWeââ Lopez began, and the general quarters Klaxon sounded. It was
deafening in the small metal compartment.
âHoly shit, did they shoot back ?â Holden asked.
Lopez shook himself, like a man waking up from a daydream. He got
up and hit the comm button by the door. A marine came through seconds
later.
âTake Mr. Holden back to his quarters,â Lopez said, then left the room
at a run.
The marine gestured at the corridor with the barrel of his rifle. His
expression was hard.
Itâs all fun and games till someone shoots back, Holden thought.
Naomi patted the empty couch next to her and smiled.
âDid they put slivers under your fingernails?â she asked.
âNo, actually , he was surprisi ngly human for a naval intelligence
wonk,â Holden replied. âOf course, he was just getting warmed up. Have
you guys heard anything about the other ships?â
Alex said, âNope. But that alarm means theyâre takinâ them seriously
all of a sudden.â
âItâs insane,â Shed said quietly . âFlying around in these metal bubbles,
and then trying to poke holes in each other . You ever seen what long-term
decompression and cold exposure does? Breaks all the capillaries in your
eyes and skin. Tissue damage to the lungs can cause massive pneumonia
followed by emphysema-like scarring. I mean, if you donâ t just die.â
âWell, thatâs awful fucking cheerful, Doc. Thanks for that,â Amos
said.
The ship suddenly vibrated in a syncopated but ultra-high-speed
rhythm. Alex looked at Holden, his eyes wide.
âThatâ s the point defense netwo rk openinâ up. That means incoming
torpedoes,â he said. âBetter strap in tight, kids. The ship might start doinâ
some violent maneuvering.â
Everyone but Holden was already belted into the couches. He fastened
his restraints too.
âThis sucks. All the real action is happeninâ thousands of klick s from
here, and we got no instruments to look at,â Alex said. âWe wonât know if
somethinâ slipped through the flack screen till it rips the hull open.â
âBoy , everybody is just a fucking pile of fun right now,â Amos said
loudly .
Shedâ s eyes were wide, his face too pale. Holden shook his head.
âNot going to happen,â he said. âThis thing is unkillable. Whoever
those ships are, they can put on a good show , but thatâ s it.â
âAll respect, Captain,â Naomi said. âBut whoever those ships are, they
should be dead already , and they arenâ t.â
The distant noises of faraway combat kept up. The occasional rumble
The Start of War
- The MCRN Donnager is hit by a torpedo, causing the ship to lose engine power and gravity.
- The battle escalates into unprecedented close-quarters combat as the mysterious attackers survive the Martian barrage.
- A railgun round pierces the hull and instantly decapitates Shed, the crew's medic, as the room begins to depressurize.
- On Ceres, Detective Miller watches news reports of a terrorist explosion, realizing he is witnessing the outbreak of a system-wide war.
One moment, the medic was there; the next, his head was gone from the Adamâs apple up.
somethinâ slipped through the flack screen till it rips the hull open.â
âBoy , everybody is just a fucking pile of fun right now,â Amos said
loudly .
Shedâ s eyes were wide, his face too pale. Holden shook his head.
âNot going to happen,â he said. âThis thing is unkillable. Whoever
those ships are, they can put on a good show , but thatâ s it.â
âAll respect, Captain,â Naomi said. âBut whoever those ships are, they
should be dead already , and they arenâ t.â
The distant noises of faraway combat kept up. The occasional rumble
of a torpedo firing. The near-constant vibration of the high-speed point
defense guns. Holden didnâ t realize heâd fallen asleep until he was jerked
awake by an earsplitting roar. Amos and Alex were yelling . Shed was
screaming.
âWhat happened?â Holden yelled over the noise.
âWeâre hit, Cap!â Alex said. âThat was a torpedo hit!â
The gravity suddenly dropped away . The Donnager had stopped its
engines. Or theyâd been destroyed.
Amos was still yelling, âShit shit shit,â over everything. But at least
Shed had stopped screaming. He was staring wide eyed out of his couch, his
face white. Holden unbuckled his straps and pushed off toward the comm
panel.
âJim!â Naomi called out. âWhat are you doing?â
âWe need to find out whatâ s going on,â Holden said over his shoulder .
When he reached the bulkhead by the hatch, he punched the comm
panel call button. There was no reply . He hit it again, then started pounding
on the hatch. No one came.
âWhere are our damn marines?â he said.
The lights dimmed, came back up. Then again, and again, in a slow
cadence.
âGauss turrets firing. Shit. Itâ s CQB,â Alex said in awe.
In the history of the Coalition, no capital ship had ever gotten into a
close-quarters battle. But here they were, firing the shipâ s big cannons,
which meant that the range was sufficiently short that a nonguided weapon
was viable. Hundreds or even dozens of kilometers, not thousands.
Somehow the Belt ships had survived Donnager âs torpedo barrage.
âAnyone else think this is desperate fucking queer?â Amos asked, a
touch of panic in his voice.
The Donnager began to ring like a gong struck over and over again by
a massive hammer . Return fire.
The gauss round that killed Shed didnâ t even make a noise. Like a
magic trick, two perfectly round holes appeared on either side of the room
in a line that intersected Shedâ s couch. One moment, the medic was there;
the next, his head was gone from the Adamâ s apple up. Arterial blood
pumped out in a red cloud, pulled into two thin lines, and whirled to the
holes in the walls of the room as the air rushed out.
Chapter T welve
Miller
For twelve years, Miller had worked security . Violence and death were
familiar companions to him. Men, women. Animals. Kids. Once heâd held a
womanâ s hand while she bled to death. Heâd killed two people, could still
see them die if he closed his eyes and thought about it. If anyone had asked
him, heâd have said there wasnâ t much left that would shake him.
But heâd never watched a war start before.
The Distinguished Hyacinth Lounge was in the shift-change rush. Men
and women in security uniformsâmostly from Star Helix, but a few
smaller companies tooâwere either drinking their after-work liquor and
winding down or making trips to the breakfast buffet for coffee, textured
fungi in sugar sauce, sausage with meat maybe one part in a thousand.
Miller chewed the sausage and watched the display monitor on the wall. A
Star Helix external relations head looked sincerely out, his demeanor
radiating calm and certainty as he explained how everything was going to
hell.
âPreliminary scans suggest that the explosion was the result of a failed
attempt to connect a nuclear device to the docking station. Officials from
the Martian government have referred to the incident only as an âalleged
terrorist actionâ and refused comment pending further investigation.â
A Cop Bar Conspiracy
- Miller and Havelock discuss a failed terrorist attempt to destroy a docking station with a nuclear device.
- Miller asks his partner to cover for his absence while he investigates the Julie Mao case off the record.
- To avoid suspicion from their superiors, Miller chooses to feign a drunken bender over his ex-wife rather than reveal his investigation.
- Havelock expresses concern over Earth's unusual silence amidst the escalating tensions between Mars and the Belt.
- The conversation highlights the cultural divide between Earthers and Belters, even within the police force.
Youâre telling me youâd rather have the boss think youâre missing work because youâre on a dysfunctional, heartbroken bender than that youâre doing the work she assigned you?
fungi in sugar sauce, sausage with meat maybe one part in a thousand.
Miller chewed the sausage and watched the display monitor on the wall. A
Star Helix external relations head looked sincerely out, his demeanor
radiating calm and certainty as he explained how everything was going to
hell.
âPreliminary scans suggest that the explosion was the result of a failed
attempt to connect a nuclear device to the docking station. Officials from
the Martian government have referred to the incident only as an âalleged
terrorist actionâ and refused comment pending further investigation.â
âAnother one,â Havelock said from behind him. âYou know ,
eventually , one of those assholes is going to get it right.â
Miller turned in his seat, then nodded to the chair beside him.
Havelock sat.
âThatâll be an interesting day ,â Miller said. âI was about to call you.â
âYeah, sorry ,â his partner said. âI was up kind of late.â
âAny word on the transfer?â
âNo,â Havelock said. âFigure my paperworkâ s hung on a desk
someplace in Olympus. What about you? Any word on your special-project
girl?â
âNot yet,â Mille r said. âLook, the reason I wanted to meet up before
we went in⌠I need to take a couple days, try to run down some leads on
Julie. With all this other shit going on, Shaddid doesnâ t want me doing
much more than phoning this one in.â
âBut youâre ignoring that,â Havelock said. It wasnâ t a question.
âIâve got a feeling about this one.â
âSo how can I help?â
âI need you to cover for me.â
âHow am I going to do that?â Havelock asked. âItâs not like I can tell
them youâre sick. Theyâve got access to your medical recor ds same as
everyone elseâ s.â
âTell âem Iâve been getting drunk a lot,â Miller said. âThat Candace
came by . Sheâ s my ex-wife.â
Havelock chewe d his sausage, brow furrowed. The Earther shook his
head slowlyânot a refusal, but the prelude to a question. Miller waited.
âYouâre telling me youâd rather have the boss think youâre missing
work because youâre on a dysfunctional, heartbroken bender than that
youâre doing the work she assigned you? I donâ t get it.â
Miller licked his lips and leaned forward, elbows on the smooth off-
white table. Someone had scratched a design into the plastic. A split circle.
And this was a cop bar .
âI donât know what Iâm looking at,â Miller said. âThereâ s a bunch of
things that belong together some how, and Iâm not sure yet what it is. Until I
know more, I need to stay low. A guy has a fling with his ex, hits the bottle
for a few days? Thatâ s not going to light up anyoneâ s panels.â
Havelock shook his head again, this time in mild disbelief. If heâd
been a Belter , heâd have made the gesture with his hands, so you could see
it when he had an environment suit on. Another of the hundred small ways
someone who hadnâ t grown up on the Belt betrayed himself. The wall
monitor cut to the image of a blond woman in a severe uniform. The
external relation s head was talking about the Martian navyâ s tactical
response and whether the OPA was behind the increased vandalism. That
was what he called fumbling an overloaded fusion reactor while setting up a
ship-killing booby trap: vandalism.
âThat shit just doesnâ t follow ,â Havelock said, and for a moment
Miller didnât know if he meant the Belter guerrilla actions, the Martian
response, or the favor heâd asked. âSeriously . Whereâ s Earth? All this shitâs
going on, and we donâ t hear a damn thing from them.â
âWhy would we?â Miller asked. âItâ s Mars and the Belt going at it.â
âWhen was the last time Earth let anything major happen without them
in the middle of it?â Havelock said, then sighed. âOkay . Youâre too drunk to
come in. Y our love lifeâ s a mess. Iâm trying to cover for you.â
âJust for a couple days.â
âMake sure you get back before someone decides itâs the perfect
chance for a random shooting to take out the Earther cop.â
âIâll do that,â Miller said, rising from the table. âYou watc h your
back.â
The Search for Julie Mao
- Miller and Havelock discuss the unusual silence from Earth amidst escalating tensions between Mars and the Belt.
- Havelock warns Miller to be careful, noting that his status as an 'Earther cop' makes him a target for random violence.
- Miller visits a jiu-jitsu studio on Ceres to track down information on Julie Mao, bypassing official channels to avoid bureaucratic oversight.
- The studio instructor initially demands a warrant but eventually agrees to speak with Miller privately after sensing his genuine concern for the girl.
His smile was curious and as serene as a well-fed predator.
going on, and we donâ t hear a damn thing from them.â
âWhy would we?â Miller asked. âItâ s Mars and the Belt going at it.â
âWhen was the last time Earth let anything major happen without them
in the middle of it?â Havelock said, then sighed. âOkay . Youâre too drunk to
come in. Y our love lifeâ s a mess. Iâm trying to cover for you.â
âJust for a couple days.â
âMake sure you get back before someone decides itâs the perfect
chance for a random shooting to take out the Earther cop.â
âIâll do that,â Miller said, rising from the table. âYou watc h your
back.â
âDonâ t need to tell me twice,â Havelock said.
The Ceres Center for Jiu Jitsu was down near the port, where the spin
gravity was strongest. The hole was a converted storage space from before
the big spin. A cylinder flatten ed where flooring had been set in about a
third of the way from the botto m. Racks bearing various lengths of staffs,
bamboo swords , and dull plastic practice knives hung from the vaulted
ceiling. The polished stone echoed with the grunting of men working a line
of resistance machines and the soft thud of a woman at the back punishing a
heavy bag. Three students stood on the central mat, speaking in low voices.
Pictures filled the front wall on either side of the door. Soldiers in
uniform. Securi ty agents for half a dozen Belter corporations. Not many
inner planet types, but a few. Plaques commemorating placements in
competitions. A page of small type outlining the history of the studio.
One of the students shouted and collapsed, carrying one of the others
to the mat with her. The one still standing applauded and helped them back
up. Miller searched through the wall of pictures, hoping to find Julie.
âCan I help you?â
The man was half a head shorter than Miller and easily twice as broad.
It should have made him look like an Earther , but everything else about him
said Belt. He wore pale sweats that made his skin seem even darker . His
smile was curious and as serene as a well-fed predator . Miller nodded.
âDetective Mille r,â he said. âIâm with station security . Thereâ s one of
your students I wanted to get some background on.â
âThis is an of ficial investigation?â the man asked.
âYeah,â Miller said. âIâm afraid it is.â
âThen youâll have a warrant.â
Miller smiled. The man smiled back.
âWe donât give out any information on our students without a
warrant,â he said. âStudio policy .â
âI respect that,â Miller said. âNo, I really do. Itâs just that⌠parts of
this particular investigation are maybe a little more official than others. The
girlâs not in trouble. She didnâ t do anything. But she has family on Luna
who want her found.â
âA kidnap job,â the man said, folding his arms. The serene face had
gone cool without any apparent movement.
âOnly the official part,â Miller said. âI can get a warrant, and we can
do the whole thing through channels. But then I have to tell my boss. The
more she knows, the less room I have to move.â
The man didnâ t react. His stillne ss was unnerving. Miller struggled not
to fidget. The woman working the heavy bag at the far end of the studio
went through a flurry of strikes, shouting out with each one.
âWho?â the man asked.
âJulie Mao,â Miller said. He could have said he was looking for the
Buddhaâ s mother for all the reaction he got. âI think sheâ s in trouble.â
âWhy do you care if she is?â
âI donât know the answer to that one,â Miller said. âI just do. If you
donât want to help me, then you donâ t.â
âAnd youâll go get your warrant. Do this through channels.â
Miller took off his hat, rubbed a long, thin hand across his head, and
put the hat back in place.
âProbably not,â he said.
âLet me see your ID,â the man said. Miller pulled up his terminal and
let the man confirm who he was. The man handed it back and pointed to a
small door behind the heavy bags. Miller did as he was told.
The office was cramped. A small laminate desk with a soft sphere
The Search for Julie Mao
- Detective Miller bypasses official channels to interview a martial arts instructor about a missing woman named Julie.
- The instructor reveals that Julie began training five years ago after being attacked, showing a relentless discipline to ensure she was never a victim again.
- Miller learns that Julie worked on light freighters without a regular route, potentially acting as a courier for the OPA.
- The investigation is framed against a backdrop of escalating tension as news breaks of a deadly attack on the Phoebe science station.
âDown the well.â The way he said it made it sound like a disease.
âI donât know the answer to that one,â Miller said. âI just do. If you
donât want to help me, then you donâ t.â
âAnd youâll go get your warrant. Do this through channels.â
Miller took off his hat, rubbed a long, thin hand across his head, and
put the hat back in place.
âProbably not,â he said.
âLet me see your ID,â the man said. Miller pulled up his terminal and
let the man confirm who he was. The man handed it back and pointed to a
small door behind the heavy bags. Miller did as he was told.
The office was cramped. A small laminate desk with a soft sphere
behind it in lieu of a chair . Two stools that looked like theyâd come out of a
bar. A filing cabinet with a small fabricator that stank of ozone and oil that
was probably where the plaques and certificates were made.
âWhy does the family want her?â the man asked, lowering himself
onto the sphere. It acted like a chair but required constant balance. A place
to rest without actually resting.
âThey think sheâs in harmâ s way. At least, thatâs what theyâre saying,
and I donâ t have reason to disbelieve them yet.â
âWhat kind of harm?â
âDonâ t know,â Miller said. âI know she was on station. I know she
shipped out for T ycho, and after that, Iâve got nothing.â
âHer family want her back on their station?â
The man knew who her family was. Miller filed the information away
without missing a beat.
âI donât think so,â Miller said. âThe last message she got from them
routed through Luna.â
âDown the well.â The way he said it made it sound like a disease.
âIâm looking for anyone who knows who she was shipping with. If
sheâs on a run, where she was going and when she was planning to get
there. If sheâ s in range of a tightbeam.â
âI donâ t know any of that,â the man said.
âYou know anyone I should ask?â
There was a pause.
âMaybe. Iâll find what I can for you.â
âAnything else you can tell me about her?â
âShe started at the studio five years ago. She was⌠angry when she
first came. Undisciplined.â
âShe got better ,â Miller said. âBrown belt, right?â
The manâ s eyebrows rose.
âIâm a cop,â Miller said. âI find things out.â
âShe improved,â her teacher said. âSheâd been attacked. Just after she
came to the Belt. She was seeing that it didnâ t happen twice.â
âAttacked,â Miller said, parsing the manâ s tone of voice. âRaped?â
âI didnâ t ask. She trained hard, even when she was off station. You can
tell when people let it slide. They come back weaker . She never did.â
âTough girl,â Miller said. âGood for her. Did she have friends? People
she sparred with?â
âA few . No lovers that I know of, since thatâ s the next question.â
âThatâ s strange. Girl like that.â
âLike what, Detective?â
âPretty girl,â Miller said. âCompetent. Smart. Dedicated. Who
wouldnâ t want to be with someone like that?â
âPerhaps she hadnâ t met the right person.â
Something in the way he said it hinted at amusement. Miller shrugged,
uncomfortable in his skin.
âWhat kind of work did she do?â he asked.
âLight freighter . I donât know of any particular cargo. I had the
impression that she shipped wherever there was a need.â
âNot a regular route, then?â
âThat was my impression.â
âWhose ships did she work? One particular freighter , or whatever
came to hand? A particular company?â
âIâll find what I can for you,â the man said.
âCourier for the OP A?â
âIâll find out,â the man said, âwhat I can.â
The news that afternoon was all about Phoebe. The science station thereâ
the one that Belters werenâ t allowed even to dock atâhad been hit. The
official report stated that half the inhabitants of the base were dead, the
other half missing. No one had claimed responsibility yet, but the common
wisdom was that some Belter groupâmaybe the OPA, maybe someone else
The Coming Catastrophe
- A devastating attack on the Phoebe science station leaves half its inhabitants dead, fueling rumors of OPA involvement and escalating tensions between Mars and the Belt.
- Detective Miller reflects on the inevitability of a catastrophic war, feeling powerless to stop the impending conflict between planetary powers.
- Miller categorizes victims into three types, placing Julie Mao in the elite five percent who learn from their trauma and move forward.
- Anderson Dawes, an OPA liaison, visits Miller's apartment to offer a trade of information in exchange for Miller dropping the search for Julie Mao.
- Dawes reveals that Julie Mao was working for the OPA, but admits that even they have lost track of her whereabouts.
The catastrophe was coming, and neither side seemed to understand how vulnerable they were.
came to hand? A particular company?â
âIâll find what I can for you,â the man said.
âCourier for the OP A?â
âIâll find out,â the man said, âwhat I can.â
The news that afternoon was all about Phoebe. The science station thereâ
the one that Belters werenâ t allowed even to dock atâhad been hit. The
official report stated that half the inhabitants of the base were dead, the
other half missing. No one had claimed responsibility yet, but the common
wisdom was that some Belter groupâmaybe the OPA, maybe someone else
âhad finally managed an act of âvandalismâ with a body count. Miller sat
in his hole, watching the broadcast feed and drinking.
It was all going to hell. The pirate casts from the OPA calling for war.
The burgeoning guerrilla actions. All of it. The time was coming that Mars
wasnâ t going to ignore them anymore. And when Mars took action, it
wouldnâ t matter if Earth followed suit. It would be the first real war in the
Belt. The catastrophe was comi ng, and neither side seemed to understand
how vulnerable they were. And there was nothingânot one single
goddamned thingâthat he could do to stop it. He couldnâ t even slow it
down.
Julie Mao grinn ed at him from the still frame, her pinnace behind her.
Attacked, the man had said. There was nothing about it in her record. Might
have been a mugging. Might have been something worse. Miller had known
a lot of victims, and he put them into three categories. First there were the
ones who pretended nothing had happened, or that whatever it was didnâ t
really matter. That was well over half the people he talked to. Then there
were the professionals, people who took their victimization as permission to
act out any way they saw fit. That ate most of the rest.
Maybe 5 percen t, maybe less, were the ones who sucked it up, learned
the lesson, and moved on. The Julies. The good ones.
His door chimed three hours after his official shift was over. Miller
stood up, less steady on his feet than heâd expected. He counted the bottles
on the table. There were more than heâd thought. He hesitated for a
moment, torn between answering the door and throwing the bottles into the
recycler . The door chimed again. He went to open it. If it was someone
from the station, they expected him to be drunk, anyway . No reason to
disappoint.
The face was familiar . Acne-pocked, controlled. The OPA armband
from the bar . The one whoâd had Mateo Judd killed.
The cop.
âEvening,â Miller said.
âDetective Mille r,â the pocked man said. âI think weâve gotten off on
the wrong foot. I was hoping we could try again.â
âRight.â
âMay I come in?â
âI try not to take strange men home,â Miller said. âI donât even know
your name.â
âAnderson Dawes,â the pocked man said. âIâm the Ceres liaison for
the Outer Planets Alliance. I think we can help each other . May I come in?â
Miller stood back, and the pocked manâDawesâstepped inside.
Dawes took in the hole for the space of two slow breaths, then sat as if the
bottles and the stink of old beer were nothing to comment on. Silently
cursing himself and willing a sobriety he didnâ t feel, Miller sat across from
him.
âI need a favor from you,â Dawes said. âIâm willing to pay for it. Not
money , of course. Information.â
âWhat do you want?â Miller asked.
âStop looking for Juliette Mao.â
âNo sale.â
âIâm trying to keep the peace, Detective,â Dawes said. âYou should
hear me out.â
Miller leaned forward, elbows on the table. Mr. Serene Jiu Jitsu
Instructor was working for the OPA? The timing of Dawesâ visit seemed to
be saying so. Miller filed that possibility away but said nothing.
âMao worked for us,â Dawes said. âBut youâd guessed that.â
âMore or less. Y ou know where she is?â
âWe donât. We are looking for her. And we need to be the ones to find
her. Not you.â
Miller shook his head. There was a response, the right thing to say. It
was rattling in the back of his head, and if he just didnâ t feel quite so
fuzzyâŚ
Strange Alliances and Muddy Waters
- Dawes, an OPA representative, reveals that Julie Mao was on the Scopuli, the ship used as bait to destroy the Canterbury.
- The OPA attempts to pressure Miller into dropping his investigation to prevent further political instability between the Belt and the Inner Planets.
- Miller challenges Dawes' competence by questioning him about missing riot gear and the disappearance of local criminal elements.
- Realizing the escalating danger of the situation, Miller warns his partner Havelock to take leave and flee the station for his own safety.
- The conversation confirms that Julie Mao is a central figure in a conspiracy that threatens to spark an all-out interplanetary war.
She was on the Scopuli, the freighter that Mars used as bait when they killed the Canterbury.
Miller leaned forward, elbows on the table. Mr. Serene Jiu Jitsu
Instructor was working for the OPA? The timing of Dawesâ visit seemed to
be saying so. Miller filed that possibility away but said nothing.
âMao worked for us,â Dawes said. âBut youâd guessed that.â
âMore or less. Y ou know where she is?â
âWe donât. We are looking for her. And we need to be the ones to find
her. Not you.â
Miller shook his head. There was a response, the right thing to say. It
was rattling in the back of his head, and if he just didnâ t feel quite so
fuzzyâŚ
âYouâre one of them, Detective. You may have lived your whole life
out here, but your salary is paid by an inner planet corporation. No, wait. I
donât blame you. I understand how it is. They were hiring and you needed
the work. But⌠weâre walking on a bubble right now. The Canterbury . The
fringe elements in the Belt calling for war .â
âPhoebe Station.â
âYes, theyâll blame us for that too. Add a Luna corporationâ s prodigal
daughterâŚâ
âYou think somethingâ s happened to her .â
âShe was on the Scopuli, â Dawes said, and when Miller didnâ t
immediately respond, he added, âThe freighter that Mars used as bait when
they killed the Canterbury .â
Miller thought about that for a long moment, then whistled low .
âWe donât know what happened,â Dawes said. âUntil we do, I canât
have you stirring up the water . Itâs muddy enough now .â
âAnd what information are you offering?â Miller asked. âThatâ s the
trade, right?â
âIâll tell you what we find. After we find her,â Dawes said. Miller
chuckled, and the OPA man went on. âItâs a generous offer, considering
who you are. Employee of Mars. Partner of an Earther . Some people would
think that was enough to make you the enemy too.â
âBut not you,â Miller said.
âI think weâve got the same basic goals, you and I. Stability . Safety .
Strange times make for strange alliances.â
âTwo questions.â
Dawes spread his arms, welcoming them.
âWho took the riot gear?â Miller asked.
âRiot gear?â
âBefore the Canterbury died, someone took our riot gear. Maybe they
wanted to arm soldiers for crowd control. Maybe they didnâ t want our
crowds controlled. Who took it? Why?â
âIt wasnâ t us,â Dawes said.
âThatâ s not an answer . Try this one. What happened to the Golden
Bough Society?â
Dawes looked blank.
âLoca Greiga?â Miller asked. âSohiro?â
Dawes opened his mouth, closed it. Miller dropped his beer bottle into
the recycler .
âNothing personal, friend,â he said, âbut your investigative techniques
arenâ t impressing me. What makes you think you can find her?â
âItâs not a fair test,â Dawes said. âGive me a few days, Iâll get answers
for you.â
âTalk to me then. Iâll try not to start an all-out war while you do, but
Iâm not letting go of Julie. Y ou can go now .â
Dawes rose. He looked sour .
âYouâre making a mistake,â he said.
âWonât be my first.â
After the man left, Miller sat at his table. Heâd been stupid. Worse,
heâd been self-indulgent. Drinking himself into a stupor instead of doing the
work. Instead of finding Julie. But he knew more now. The Scopuli. The
Canterbury . More lines between the dots.
He cleaned away his bottles, took a shower , and pulled up his terminal,
searching what there was about Julieâ s ship. After an hour, a new thought
occurred to him, a small fear that grew the more he looked at it. Near
midnight, he put a call through to Havelockâ s hole.
His partner took two full minutes to answer . When he did, his image
was wild-haired and bleary-eyed.
âMiller?â
âHavelock. Y ou have any vacation time saved up?â
âA little.â
âSick leave?â
âSure,â Havelock said.
âTake it,â Miller said. âTake it now. Get off station. Someplace safe if
you can find it. Someplace theyâre not going to start killing Earthers for
shits and giggles if things go pear -shaped.â
âI donâ t understand. What are you talking about?â
Pressure and Paranoia
- Miller warns his partner Havelock to flee the station, fearing that rising tensions and OPA anxiety signal imminent violence against Earthers.
- A sudden rail gun attack on Holden's ship results in a hull breach and the instantaneous, violent death of their medic, Shed.
- Naomi and Amos perform a desperate emergency repair using a three-ring binder and a dinner tray to seal the vacuum leaks.
- The crew realizes they are being targeted by Belter ships equipped with advanced military-grade rail guns, a terrifying escalation of force.
Without the vacuum, his blood was pouring out into a floating red sphere just above his neck, like a hideous cartoon replacement for his head.
work. Instead of finding Julie. But he knew more now. The Scopuli. The
Canterbury . More lines between the dots.
He cleaned away his bottles, took a shower , and pulled up his terminal,
searching what there was about Julieâ s ship. After an hour, a new thought
occurred to him, a small fear that grew the more he looked at it. Near
midnight, he put a call through to Havelockâ s hole.
His partner took two full minutes to answer . When he did, his image
was wild-haired and bleary-eyed.
âMiller?â
âHavelock. Y ou have any vacation time saved up?â
âA little.â
âSick leave?â
âSure,â Havelock said.
âTake it,â Miller said. âTake it now. Get off station. Someplace safe if
you can find it. Someplace theyâre not going to start killing Earthers for
shits and giggles if things go pear -shaped.â
âI donâ t understand. What are you talking about?â
âI had a little visit with an OPA agent tonight. He was trying to talk me
into dropping my kidnap job. I think⌠I think heâs nervous. I think heâs
scared.â
Havelock was silent for a moment while the words filtered into his
sleep-drunk mind.
âJesus,â he said. âWhat scares the OP A?â
Chapter Thirteen
Holden
Holden froze, watching the blood pump from Shedâ s neck, then whip away
like smoke into an exhaust fan. The sounds of combat began to fade as the
air was sucked out of the room. His ears throbbed and then hurt like
someone had put ice picks in them. As he fought with his couch restraints,
he glanced over at Alex. The pilot was yelling something, but it didnâ t carry
through the thin air. Naomi and Amos had gotten out of their couches
already , kicked off, and were flying across the room to the two holes. Amos
had a plastic dinner tray in one hand. Naomi, a white three- ring binder .
Holden stared at them for the half second it took to understand what they
were doing. The world narro wed, his peripheral vision all stars and
darkness.
By the time heâd gotten free, Amos and Naomi had already covered
the holes with their makeshift patches. The room was filled with a high-
pitched whistle as the air tried to force its way out through the imperfect
seals. Holdenâ s sight began to return as the air pressure started to rise. He
was panting hard, gasping for breath. Someone slowly turned the roomâ s
volume knob back up and Naomiâ s yells for help became audible.
âJim, open the emer gency locker!â she screamed.
She was pointing at a small red-and-yellow panel on the bulkhead near
his crash couch. Years of shipboard training made a path through the anoxia
and depressurization, and he yanked the tab on the locker âs seal and pulled
the door open. Inside were a white first aid kit marked with the ancient red-
cross symbol, half a dozen oxygen masks, and a sealed bag of hardened
plastic disks attached to a glue gun. The emer gency-seal kit. He snatched it.
âJust the gun,â Naomi yelled at him. He wasnâ t sure if her voice
sounded distant because of the thin air or because the pressure drop had
blown his eardrums.
Holden yanked the gun free from the bag of patches and threw it at her .
She ran a bead of instant sealing glue around the edge of her three-ring
binder . She tossed the gun to Amos, who caught it with an effortless
backhand motio n and put a seal around his dinner tray. The whistling
stopped, replaced by the hiss of the atmosphere system as it labored to bring
the pressure back up to normal. Fifteen seconds.
Everyone looked at Shed. Without the vacuum, his blood was pouring
out into a floating red sphere just above his neck, like a hideous cartoon
replacement for his head.
âJesus Christ, Boss,â Amos said, looking away from Shed to Naomi.
He snapped his teeth closed with an audible click and shook his head.
âWhatâŚâ
âGauss round,â Alex said. âThose ships have rail guns.â
âBelt ships with rail guns?â Amos said. âDid they get a fucking navy
and no one told me?â
âJim, the hallway outside and the cabin on the other side are both in
Aftermath of the Rail Gun
- Shed is killed instantly by a rail gun round that decapitates him and breaches the ship's hull.
- The crew realizes they are trapped in a cabin surrounded by vacuum, surviving only on limited emergency air bottles.
- Holden forces the crew to confront Shed's death to break their shock and refocus them on survival tasks.
- The survivors divide labor to extend their air supply, signal for help through the bulkheads, and attempt to restore communications.
- The presence of rail guns on Belt ships suggests a level of military technology that surprises and alarms the crew.
Without the vacuum, his blood was pouring out into a floating red sphere just above his neck, like a hideous cartoon replacement for his head.
Everyone looked at Shed. Without the vacuum, his blood was pouring
out into a floating red sphere just above his neck, like a hideous cartoon
replacement for his head.
âJesus Christ, Boss,â Amos said, looking away from Shed to Naomi.
He snapped his teeth closed with an audible click and shook his head.
âWhatâŚâ
âGauss round,â Alex said. âThose ships have rail guns.â
âBelt ships with rail guns?â Amos said. âDid they get a fucking navy
and no one told me?â
âJim, the hallway outside and the cabin on the other side are both in
vacuum,â Naomi said. âThe shipâ s compromised.â
Holden started to respond, then caught a good look at the binder
Naomi had glued over the breac h. The white cover was stamped with black
letters that read MCRN EMERGENCY PROCEDURES . He had to suppress a laugh
that would almost certainly go manic on him.
âJim,â Naomi said, her voice worried.
âIâm okay, Naomi,â Holden replied, then took a deep breath. âHow
long do those patches hold?â
Naomi shrugged with her hands, then started pulling her hair behind
her head and tying it up with a red elastic band.
âLonger than the air will last. If everything around us is in vacuum,
that means the cabinâ s running on emer gency bottles. No recyc ling. I donât
know how much each room has, but it wonâ t be more than a couple hours.â
âKinda makes you wish weâd worn our fucking suits, donât it?â Amos
asked.
âWouldnâ t have mattered,â Alex said. âWeâd come over here in our
enviro suits, theyâd just have taken âem away .â
âCould have tried,â Amos said.
âWell, if youâd like to go back in time and do it over, be my guest,
partner .â
Naomi sharply said, âHey ,â but then nothing more.
No one was talking about Shed. They were working hard not to look at
the body. Holden cleared his throat to get everyoneâ s attention, then floated
to Shedâs couch, drawing their eyes with him. He paused a mom ent, letting
everyone get a good look at the decapitated body , then pulled a blanket
from the storage drawer benea th the couch and strapped it down over
Shedâ s body with the couchâ s restraints.
âShedâ s been killed. Weâre in deep peril. Arguing wonâ t extend our
lives one second,â Holden said, looking at each member of his crew in turn.
âWhat will?â
No one spoke. Holden turned to Naomi first.
âNaomi, what will keep us alive longer that we can do right now?â he
asked.
âIâll see if I can find the emer gency air. The roomâ s built for six, and
thereâre only⌠there are four of us. I might be able to turn the flow down
and stretch it longer .â
âGood. Thank you. Alex?â
âIf thereâ s anyone other than us, theyâll be lookinâ for survivo rs. Iâll
start poundinâ on the bulkhead. They wonâ t hear it in the vacuum, but if
thereâre cabins with air , the soundâll travel down the metal.â
âGood plan. I refuse to believe weâre the only ones left on this ship,â
Holden said, then turned to Amos. âAmos?â
âLemme check on that comm panel. Might be able to get the bridge or
damage control or⌠shit, something, â Amos replied.
âThanks. Iâd love to let someone know weâre still here,â Holden said.
People moved off to work while Holden floated in the air next to Shed.
Naomi began yanking access panels off the bulkheads. Alex, hands pressed
against a couch for leverage, lay on the deck and began to kick the bulkhead
with his boots. The room vibrated slightly with each booming kick. Amos
Evacuation Under Fire
- Holden and his surviving crew are rescued from their breached compartment by Lieutenant Kelly and a squad of heavily armed marines.
- The marines utilize an ad hoc plastic airlock to bridge the vacuum, providing the survivors with vacuum suits for a desperate escape.
- Lieutenant Kelly reveals the dire state of the battle, admitting that the ship is being boarded and that they are currently losing the fight.
- The group begins a high-speed dash toward the keel elevator banks to reach an escape craft before the ship is completely compromised.
Kelly pulled a heavy knife from a sheath on his chest and slashed the plastic barrier open in one quick movement.
Holden said, then turned to Amos. âAmos?â
âLemme check on that comm panel. Might be able to get the bridge or
damage control or⌠shit, something, â Amos replied.
âThanks. Iâd love to let someone know weâre still here,â Holden said.
People moved off to work while Holden floated in the air next to Shed.
Naomi began yanking access panels off the bulkheads. Alex, hands pressed
against a couch for leverage, lay on the deck and began to kick the bulkhead
with his boots. The room vibrated slightly with each booming kick. Amos
pulled a multi-tool out of his pocket and began taking the comm panel
apart.
When Holden was sure everyone was busy, he put one hand on Shedâ s
shoulder , just below the blanketâ s spreading red stain.
âIâm sorry,â he whispered to the body . His eyes burned and he pressed
them into the back of his thumbs.
The comm unit was hanging out of the bulkhead on wires when it
buzzed once, loudly. Amos yelped and pushed off hard enough to fly across
the room. Holden caught him, wrenching his shoulder by trying to arrest the
momentum of 120 kilos of Earther mechanic. The comm buzzed again.
Holden let Amos go and floate d to it. A yellow LED glowed next to the
unitâs white button. Holden pressed the button. The comm crackled to life
with Lieutenant Kellyâ s voice.
âMove away from the hatch, weâre coming in,â he said.
âGrab something!â Holden yelled to the crew , then grabbed a couch
restraint and wrapped it around his hand and forearm.
When the hatch opened, Holden expected all the air to rush out.
Instead, there was a loud crack and the pressure dropped slightly for a
second. Outside in the corridor , thick sheets of plastic had been sealed to the
walls, creating an ad hoc airlock . The walls of the new chamber bowed out
dangerously with the air pressu re, but they held. Inside the newly created
lock, Lieutenant Kelly and three of his marines wore heavy vacuum-rated
armor and carried enough weaponry to fight several minor wars.
The marines moved quickly into the room, weapons ready , and then
sealed the hatch behind them. One of them tossed a lar ge bag at Holden.
âFive vac suits. Get them on,â Kelly said. His eyes moved to the
bloody blanket covering Shed , then to the two improvised patches.
âCasualty?â
âOur medic, Shed Garvey ,â Holden replied.
âYeah. What the fuck?â Amos said loudly . âWhoâ s out there shooting
the shit out of your fancy boat?â
Naomi and Alex said nothing but started pulling the suits from the bag
and handing them out.
âI donât know ,â Kelly said. âBut weâre leaving right now. Iâve been
ordered to get you off this ship in an escape craft. Weâve got less than ten
minutes to make it to the hangar bay, take possession of a ship, and get out
of this combat area. Dress fast.â
Holden put on his suit, the implications of their evacuation racing
through his mind.
âLieutenant, is the ship coming apart?â he asked.
âNot yet. But weâre being boarded.â
âThen why are we leaving?â
âWeâre losing.â
Kelly didnâ t tap his foot while waiting for them to seal into their suits;
Holden guessed this was only because the marines had their magnetic boots
turned on. As soon as everyone had given the thumbs-up, Kelly did a quick
radio check on each suit, then headed back into the corridor . With eight
people in it, four of them in powered armor , the mini-airlock was tight.
Kelly pulled a heavy knife from a sheath on his chest and slashed the plastic
barrier open in one quick movem ent. The hatch behind them slammed shut,
and the air in the corridor vanished in a soundless ripple of plastic flaps.
Kelly char ged into the corridor with the crew scrambling to keep up.
âWe are moving with all speed to the keel elevator banks,â Kelly said
through the radio link. âTheyâ re locked down because of the boarding
Escape Through the Shaft
- Lieutenant Kelly leads the survivors through a depressurized corridor toward the keel elevator banks to reach the hangar bay.
- Alex explains the high stakes of boarding actions, noting that the ship will self-destruct if the bridge, CIC, or engineering are breached.
- Holden experiences a dissociative trauma reaction as he struggles to process the mounting deaths of his crew and the destruction of the Canterbury.
- The group is ambushed by high-explosive rapid-fire weapons, resulting in the violent death of a marine just as they reach the elevator shaft.
The ship turns into a star for a few seconds.
turned on. As soon as everyone had given the thumbs-up, Kelly did a quick
radio check on each suit, then headed back into the corridor . With eight
people in it, four of them in powered armor , the mini-airlock was tight.
Kelly pulled a heavy knife from a sheath on his chest and slashed the plastic
barrier open in one quick movem ent. The hatch behind them slammed shut,
and the air in the corridor vanished in a soundless ripple of plastic flaps.
Kelly char ged into the corridor with the crew scrambling to keep up.
âWe are moving with all speed to the keel elevator banks,â Kelly said
through the radio link. âTheyâ re locked down because of the boarding
alarm, but I can get the doors open on one and weâll float down the shaft to
the hangar bay. Everything is on the double. If you see boarders, do not
stop. Keep moving at all times. W eâll handle the hostiles. Roger that?â
âRoger , Lieutenant,â Holden gasped out. âWhy board you?â
âThe command information center ,â Alex said. âItâs the holy grail.
Codes, deployments, computer cores, the works. Takinâ a flags hipâs CIC is
a strategistâ s wet dream.â
âCut the chatter ,â Kelly said. Holden ignored him.
âThat means theyâll blow the core rather than let that happen, right?â
âYep,â Alex replied. âStandard ops for boarders. Marines hold the
bridge, CIC, and engineering. If any of the three is breached, the other two
flip the switch. The ship turns into a star for a few seconds.â
âStandard ops,â Kelly growled. âThose are my friends.â
âSorry , El Tee,â Alex replied. âI served on the Bandon. Donât mean to
make light.â
They turned a corner and the elevator bank came into view . All eight
elevators were closed and sealed. The heavy pressure doors had slammed
shut when the ship was holed.
âGomez, run the bypass,â Kelly said. âMole, Dookie, watch those
corridors.â
Two of the marines spread out, watching the hallways through their
gun sights. The third moved to one of the elevator doors and started doing
something complicated to the controls. Holden motioned his crew to the
wall, out of the firing lines. The deck vibrated slightly from time to time
beneath his feet. The enemy ships wouldnâ t still be firing, not with their
boarders inside. It must be small-arms fire and light explosives. But as they
stood there in the perfect quiet of vacuum, everything that was happening
took on a dista nt and surreal feeling. Holden recognized that his mind
wasnâ t working the way it should be. Trauma reaction. The destruction of
the Canterbury , the deaths of Ade and McDowell. And now someone had
killed Shed in his bunk. It was too much; he couldnâ t process it. He felt the
scene around him grow more and more distant.
Holden looked behind him at Naomi, Alex, and Amos. His crew . They
stared back, faces ashen and ghostly in the green light of their suit displays.
Gomez pumped his fist in triumph as the outer pressure door slid open,
revealing the elevator doors. Kelly gestured to his men.
The one called Mole turned around and started to walk to the elevator
when his face disintegrated in a spray of pebble-shaped bits of armored
glass and blood. His armored torso and the corridor bulkhead beside him
bloomed in a hundred small detonations and puffs of smoke. His body
jerked and swayed, attached to the floor by magnetic boots.
Holdenâ s sense of unreality washed away in adrenaline. The fire
spraying across the wall and Moleâ s body was high-explosive rounds from a
rapid-fire weapo n. The comm channel filled with yelling from the marines
and Holdenâs own crew . To Hold enâs left, Gomez yanked the elevator doors
open using the augmented strength of his powered armor , exposing the
empty shaft behind them.
âInside!â Kelly shouted. âEverybody inside!â
Holden held back, pushing Naomi in, and then Alex. The last marine
Escape to the Corvette
- Holden and his crew retreat into an elevator shaft under heavy fire from boarders while a marine stays behind to cover their exit.
- Lieutenant Kelly leads the group through the zero-gravity shaft toward the hangar bay with the goal of hijacking a light frigate.
- The group identifies the target ship as a corvette-class vessel, which is fast, armed with torpedoes, and capable of long-range travel.
- Upon reaching the hangar, they encounter six heavily armed boarders in unfamiliar flat-black powered armor.
- Kelly coordinates a high-stakes tactical maneuver to sprint across the open hangar bay under covering fire to reach the escape ship.
âGet killed when Iâm not babysitting,â Lieutenant Kelly barked.
jerked and swayed, attached to the floor by magnetic boots.
Holdenâ s sense of unreality washed away in adrenaline. The fire
spraying across the wall and Moleâ s body was high-explosive rounds from a
rapid-fire weapo n. The comm channel filled with yelling from the marines
and Holdenâs own crew . To Hold enâs left, Gomez yanked the elevator doors
open using the augmented strength of his powered armor , exposing the
empty shaft behind them.
âInside!â Kelly shouted. âEverybody inside!â
Holden held back, pushing Naomi in, and then Alex. The last marine
âthe one Kelly had called Dookieâfired his rifle on full auto at some
target around the corner from Holden. When the weapon ran dry, the marine
dropped to one knee and ejected the clip in the same motion. Almost faster
than Holden could follow , he pulled a new magazine from his harness and
slapped it into his weapon. He was firing again less than two seconds after
heâd run out.
Naomi yelled at Holden to get into the elevator shaft, and then a
viselike hand grabbed his shoulder , yanked him off his magnetic grip on the
floor , and hurled him through the open elevator doors.
âGet killed when Iâm not babysitting,â Lieutenant Kelly barked.
They shoved off the walls of the elevator shaft and flew down the long
tunnel toward the aft of the ship. Holden kept looking back at the open
door, receding into the distance behind them.
âDookie isnâ t following us,â he said.
âHeâ s covering our exit,â Kelly replied.
âSo we better get away ,â Gomez added. âMake it mean something.â
Kelly , at the head of the group, grabbed at a rung on the wall of the
shaft and came to a jerking stop. Everyone else followed suit.
âHereâ s our exit. Gomez, go check it out,â Kelly said. âHolden, hereâ s
the plan. W eâll be taking one of the corvettes from the hangar bay .â
That made sense to Holden. The corvette class was a light frigate. A
fleet escort vessel, it was the smallest naval ship equipped with an Epstein
drive. It would be fast enough to travel anywhere in the system and outrun
most threats. Its secondary role was as a torpedo bomber , so it would also
have teeth. Holden nodded inside his helmet at Kelly , then gestured for him
to contin ue. Kelly waited until Gomez had finished opening the elevator
doors and gone into the hangar bay .
âOkay , Iâve got the key card and activation code to get us inside and
the ship fired up. Iâll be heading straight for it, so all of you stick right on
my ass. Make sure your boot mags are off. Weâre going to push off the wall
and fly to it, so aim straight or you miss your ride. Everyone with me?â
Affirmative replies all around.
âOutstanding. Gomez, whatâ s it look like out there?â
âTrouble, El Tee. Half a dozen boarders looking over the ships in the
hangar . Powered armor , zero-g maneuvering packs, and heavy weapons.
Loaded for bear,â Gomez whisp ered back. People always whispered when
they were hiding. Wrapped in a space suit and surrounded by vacuum,
Gomez could have been lightin g fireworks inside his armor and no one
would have heard it, but he whispered.
âWe run for the ship and shoot our way through,â Kelly said. âGomez,
Iâm bringing the civvies in ten seconds. Youâre covering fire. Shoot and
displace. T ry and make them think youâre a small platoon.â
âYou callinâ me small, sir?â Gomez said. âSix dead assholes coming
up.â
Holden, Amos, Alex, and Naomi followed Kelly out of the elevator
shaft and into the hangar bay and stopped behind a stack of military-green
crates. Holden peeked over them, spotting the boarders immediately . They
were in two groups of three near the Knight, one group walking on top of it
and the other on the deck below it. Their armor was flat black. Holden
hadnâ t seen the design before.
Kelly pointed at them and looked at Holden. Holden nodded back.
Kelly pointed across the hangar at a squat black frigate about twenty-five
Escalation and Casualties
- Holden and his crew attempt a desperate zero-gravity dash toward a black frigate while Gomez provides a lethal distraction.
- The escape attempt turns tragic as both Gomez and Lieutenant Kelly are killed by the boarders' superior weaponry.
- A diplomatic crisis erupts after a Martian destroyer destroys the Xinglong, a Belter prospecting ship running without a transponder.
- The incident triggers a wave of anti-Martian violence on Ceres, culminating in the brutal torture and public display of a Martian citizen.
The great, implacable clockwork of war ticked one step closer to open fighting.
Holden, Amos, Alex, and Naomi followed Kelly out of the elevator
shaft and into the hangar bay and stopped behind a stack of military-green
crates. Holden peeked over them, spotting the boarders immediately . They
were in two groups of three near the Knight, one group walking on top of it
and the other on the deck below it. Their armor was flat black. Holden
hadnâ t seen the design before.
Kelly pointed at them and looked at Holden. Holden nodded back.
Kelly pointed across the hangar at a squat black frigate about twenty-five
meters away , halfway between them and the Knight. He held up his left
hand and began counting down from five on his fingers. At two, the room
strobed like a disco: Gomez opening fire from a position ten meters from
their own. The first barrage hit two of the boarders on top of the Knight and
hurled them spinning off. A heartbeat later, a second burst was fired five
meters from where Holden had seen the first. He would have sworn it was
two dif ferent men.
Kelly folded up the last finger on his hand, planted his feet on the wall,
and pushed off toward their corvette. Holden waited for Alex, Amos, and
Naomi, then shoved off last. By the time he was in motion, Gomez was
firing from a new location. One of the boarders on the deck pointed a large
weapon toward the muzzle flash from Gomezâ s gun. Gomez and the crate
heâd been taking cover behind disappeared in fire and shrapnel.
They were halfw ay to the ship and Holden was starting to think they
might make it when a line of smoke crossed the room and intersected with
Kelly , and the lieutenant disappeared in a flash of light.
Chapter Fourteen
Miller
The Xinglong died stupid. Afterward, everyone knew she was one of
thousands of small-time rock-hopping prospector ships. The Belt was lousy
with them: five- or six-family operations that had scraped together enough
for a down paym ent and set up operations. When it happened, theyâd been
three payments behind, and their bankâConsolidated Holdings and
Investmentsâhad put a lien on the ship. Which, common wisdom had it,
was why they had disabled her transponder . Just honest folks with a rust
bucket to call their own trying to keep flying.
If you were going to make a poster of the Belter âs dream, it would
have been the Xinglong.
The Scipio Africanus, a patrol destroyer , was due to head back down
toward Mars at the end of its two-year tour of the Belt. They both headed
for a captured cometary body a few hundred thousand kilometers from
Chiron to top of f their water .
When the prospecting ship first came in range, the Scipio saw a fast-
moving ship running dark and headed more or less in their direction. The
official Martian press releases all said that the Scipio had tried repeatedly to
hail her. The OPA pirate casts all said it was crap and that no listening
station in the Belt had heard anything like that. Everyone agreed that the
Scipio had opened its point defense cannons and turned the prospecting ship
into glowing slag.
The reaction had been as predictable as elementary physics. The
Martians were diverting anoth er couple dozen ships to help âmaintain
order .â The OPAâs shriller talking heads called for open war, and fewer and
fewer of the independent sites and casts were disagreeing with them. The
great, implacable clockwork of war ticked one step closer to open fighting.
And someone on Ceres had put a Martian-born citizen named Enrique
Dos Santos through eight or nine hours of torture and nailed the remains to
a wall near secto r elevenâ s water reclamation works. They ident ified him by
the terminal that had been left on the floor along with the manâ s wedding
ring and a thin faux-leather wallet with his credit access data and thirty
thousand Europa-script new yen. The dead Martian had been affixed to the
The Clockwork of War
- A Martian citizen named Enrique Dos Santos is found tortured and pinned to a wall on Ceres with a prospectorâs spike.
- Detective Miller and his new partner, Muss, investigate the crime scene, noting that surveillance cameras had been conveniently disabled days prior.
- The brutal murder is framed as a political retaliation for recent interplanetary violence, serving as a 'billboard' for the escalating conflict.
- Miller reflects on the cold efficiency of the justice system as he sends a generic sympathy form letter to the victim's widow on Ganymede.
- The interaction between Miller and Muss highlights the desensitization of Belters to the 'implacable clockwork' of the coming war.
The skin and bone and gristle hanging in front of them were no surprise to her. You dropped a hammer under thrust, and it fell to the deck.
great, implacable clockwork of war ticked one step closer to open fighting.
And someone on Ceres had put a Martian-born citizen named Enrique
Dos Santos through eight or nine hours of torture and nailed the remains to
a wall near secto r elevenâ s water reclamation works. They ident ified him by
the terminal that had been left on the floor along with the manâ s wedding
ring and a thin faux-leather wallet with his credit access data and thirty
thousand Europa-script new yen. The dead Martian had been affixed to the
wall with a single-char ge prospector âs spike. Five hours afterw ard, the air
recyclers were still laboring to get the acid smell out. The forensics team
had taken their samples. They were about ready to cut the poor bastard
down.
It alway s surprised Miller how peaceful dead people looked. However
godawful the circumstances, the slack calm that came at the end looked like
sleep. It made him wonder if when his turn came, heâd actually feel that last
relaxation.
âSurveillance cameras?â he said.
âBeen out for three days,â his new partner said. âKids busted âem.â
Octavia Muss was originally from crimes against persons, back before
Star Helix split violence up into smaller specialties. From there, sheâd been
on the rape squad. Then a coup le of months of crimes against children. If
the woman still had a soul, it had been pressed thin enough to see through.
Her eyes never registered anything more than mild surprise.
âWe know which kids?â
âSome punks from upstairs,â she said. âBooked, fined, released into
the wild.â
âWe should round âem back up,â Miller said. âItâd be interesting to
know whether someone paid them to take out these particular cameras.â
âIâd bet against it.â
âThen whoever did this had to know that these cameras were busted.â
âSomeone in maintenance?â
âOr a cop.â
Muss smacked her lips and shrugged. Sheâd come from three
generations in the Belt. She had family on ships like the one the Scipio had
killed. The skin and bone and gristle hanging in front of them were no
surprise to her. You dropped a hammer under thrust, and it fell to the deck.
Your government slaughtered six families of ethnic Chinese prospectors,
someone pinned you to the living rock of Ceres with a three-fo ot titanium
alloy spike. Same same.
âThereâ s going to be consequences,â Miller said, meaning This isnât a
corpse, itâ s a billboar d. Itâs a call to war .
âThere ainâ t,â Muss said. The war is her e anyway , banner or no.
âYeah,â Miller said. âY ouâre right. There ainâ t.â
âYou want to do next of kin? Iâll go take a look at outlying video. They
didnâ t burn his fingers off here in the corridor , so they had to haul him in
from somewhere.â
âYeah,â Miller said. âIâve got a sympathy form letter I can fire off.
Wife?â
âDonâ t know ,â she said. âHavenâ t looked.â
Back at the station house, Miller sat alone at his desk. Muss already
had her own desk, two cubicles over and customized the way she liked it.
Havelockâ s desk was empty and cleaned twice over, as if the custodial
services had wanted the smell of Earth off their good Belter chair. Miller
pulled up the dead manâ s file, found the next of kin. Jun-Y ee Dos Santos,
working on Ganymede. Marri ed six years. No kids. Well, there was
something to be glad of, at least. If you were going to die, at least you
shouldnâ t leave a mark.
He navigated to the form letter , dropped in the new widowâ s name and
contact address. Dear Mrs. Dos Santos, I am very sorry to have to tell you
blah blah blah. Your [he spun through the menu] husband was a valued and
respected member of the Ceres community , and I assur e you that everything
possible will be done to see that her [Miller toggled that] his killer or killers
will be br ought to answer for this. Y oursâŚ
The Cold Calculus of Ceres
- Miller processes a cold, impersonal form letter to notify a widow of her husband's death, reflecting on the dehumanizing nature of the rising homicide rate on Ceres.
- The detective attempts to link his missing person case, Julie Mao, to the destruction of the Canterbury and the mysterious ship Scopuli.
- Captain Shaddid dismisses Miller's request for Martian interrogation transcripts, believing the Martian Navy is actively covering up their role in the tragedy.
- Shaddid asserts that the survivors of the Canterbury are likely being tortured or killed by Mars to prevent the truth from reaching the Belt.
- A tense confrontation arises when Miller questions the official stance of Star Helix, leading to a dangerous shift in his relationship with his superior.
It was inhuman. It was impersonal and cold and as empty as vacuum.
something to be glad of, at least. If you were going to die, at least you
shouldnâ t leave a mark.
He navigated to the form letter , dropped in the new widowâ s name and
contact address. Dear Mrs. Dos Santos, I am very sorry to have to tell you
blah blah blah. Your [he spun through the menu] husband was a valued and
respected member of the Ceres community , and I assur e you that everything
possible will be done to see that her [Miller toggled that] his killer or killers
will be br ought to answer for this. Y oursâŚ
It was inhuman. It was impersonal and cold and as empty as vacuum.
The hunk of flesh on that corridor wall had been a real man with passions
and fears, just like anyone else. Miller wanted to wonder what it said about
him that he could ignore that fact so easily , but the truth was he knew . He
sent the message and tried not to dwell on the pain it was about to cause.
The board was thick. The incident count was twice what it shoul d have
been. This is what it looks like, he thought. No riots. No hole-by-hole
military action or marines in the corridors. Just a lot of unsolved homicides.
Then he corrected himself: This is what it looks like so far .
It didnâ t make his next task any easier .
Shaddid was in her of fice.
âWhat can I do for you?â she asked.
âI need to make some requisit ions for interrogation transcrip ts,â he
said. âBut itâs a little irregular . I was thinking it might be better if it came
through you.â
Shaddid sat back in her chair .
âIâll look at it,â she said. âWhat are we trying to get?â
Miller nodded, as if by signalin g yes himself , he could get her to say
the same.
âJim Holden. The Earther from the Canterbury . Mars should be
picking his people up around now, and I need to petition for the debriefing
transcripts.â
âYou have a case that goes back to the Canterbury ?â
âYeah,â he said. âSeems like I do.â
âTell me,â she said. âT ell me now .â
âItâs the side job. Julie Mao. Iâve been looking into itâŚâ
âI saw your report.â
âSo you know sheâs associated with the OPA. From what Iâve found, it
looks like she was on a freighter that was doing courier runs for them.â
âYou have proof of that?â
âI have an OP A guy that said as much.â
âOn the record?â
âNo,â Miller said. âIt was informal.â
âAnd it tied into the Martian navy killing the Canterbury how?â
âShe was on the Scopuli, â Miller said. âIt was used as bait to stop the
Canterbury . The thing is, you look at the broadcasts Holden makes, he talks
about finding it with a Mars Navy beacon and no crew .â
âAnd you think thereâ s something in there thatâll help you?â
âWonât know until I see it,â Miller said. âBut if Julie wasnâ t on that
freighter , then someone had to take her of f.â
Shaddidâ s smile didnâ t reach her eyes.
âAnd you would like to ask the Martian navy to please hand over
whatever they got from Holden.â
âIf he saw something on that boat, something thatâll give us an idea
what happened to Julie and the otherââ
âYou arenâ t thinking this throu gh,â Shaddid said. âThe Mars Navy
killed the Canterbury . They did it to provoke a react ion from the Belt so
theyâd have an excuse to roll in and take us over. The only reason theyâre
âdebriefingâ the survivors is so that no one could get to the poor bastards
first. Holden and his crew are either dead or getting their minds cored out
by Martian interrogation specialists right now .â
âWe canâ t be sureâŚâ
âAnd even if I could get a full record of what they said as each toenail
got ripped off, it would do you exactly no good, Miller . The Martian navy
isnât going to ask about the Scopuli. They know good and well what
happened to the crew . They planted the Scopuli. â
âIs that Star Helixâ s official stand?â Miller asked. The words were
barely out of his mouth before he saw theyâd been a mistake. Shaddidâ s face
closed down like a light going out. Now that heâd said it, he saw the implied
threat heâd just made.
The Limits of Jurisdiction
- Captain Shaddid shuts down Miller's investigation into the Scopuli, claiming the Martian navy is already complicit in the ship's fate.
- Miller is ordered to prioritize the immediate safety and continuity of Ceres over the looming threat of interplanetary war.
- Detective Muss successfully tracks the suspects in the Dos Santos case, though they have already fled toward Earth-Mars Coalition space.
- Despite the political tension and high-level conspiracies, Miller observes the mundane lives of Ceres citizens as the true focus of his duty.
Shaddidâs face closed down like a light going out.
âAnd even if I could get a full record of what they said as each toenail
got ripped off, it would do you exactly no good, Miller . The Martian navy
isnât going to ask about the Scopuli. They know good and well what
happened to the crew . They planted the Scopuli. â
âIs that Star Helixâ s official stand?â Miller asked. The words were
barely out of his mouth before he saw theyâd been a mistake. Shaddidâ s face
closed down like a light going out. Now that heâd said it, he saw the implied
threat heâd just made.
âIâm just pointing out the sourc e reliability issue,â Shaddid said. âYou
donât go to the suspect and ask where they think you should look next. And
the Juliette Mao retrieval isnâ t your first priority .â
âIâm not saying it is,â Miller said, chagrined to hear the defensi veness
in his voice.
âWe have a board out there thatâs full and getting fuller . Our first
priorities are safety and continu ity of services. If what youâre doing isnât
directly related to that, there are better things for you to be doing.â
âThis warââ
âIsnâ t our job,â Shaddid said. âOur job is Ceres. Get me a final report
on Juliette Mao. Iâll send it through channels. W eâve done what we could.â
âI donâ t thinkââ
âI do,â Shaddid said. âWeâve done what we could. Now stop being a
pussy , get your ass out there, and catch bad guys. Detective.â
âYes, Captain,â Miller said.
Muss was sitting at Miller âs desk when he got back to it, a cup in her
hand that was either strong tea or weak coffee. She nodded toward his
desktop monito r. On it, three Beltersâtwo men and one womanâwere
coming out of a warehouse door, an orange plastic shipping container
carried between them. Miller raised his eyebrows.
âEmployed by an independent gas-hauling company . Nitrogen,
oxygen. Basic atmospherics. Nothing exotic. Looks like they had the poor
bastard in one of the company warehouses. Iâve sent forensics over to see if
we can get any blood splatters for confirmation.â
âGood work,â Miller said.
Muss shrugged. Adequate work, she seemed to say .
âWhere are the perps?â Miller asked.
âShipped out yesterday ,â she said. âFlight plan logs them as headed for
Io.â
âIo?â
âEarth-Mars Coalition central,â Muss said. âWant to put any money on
whether they actually show up there?â
âSure,â Miller said. âIâll lay you fifty that they donâ t.â
Muss actually laughed.
âIâve put them on the alert syste m,â she said. âAnyplace they land, the
locals will have a heads-up and a tracking number for the Dos Santos
thing.â
âSo case closed,â Miller said.
âChalk another one up for the good guys,â Muss agreed.
The rest of the day was hectic. Three assaults, two of them overtly
political and one domestic. Muss and Miller cleared all three from the board
before the end of shift. There would be more by tomorrow .
After he clocked out, Miller stopped at a food cart near one of the tube
stations for a bowl of vat rice and textured protein that approximated
teriyaki chicken. All around him on the tube, normal citizens of Ceres read
their newsfeeds and listened to music. A young couple half a car up from
him leaned close to each other , murmuring and giggling. They might have
been sixteen. Seventeen. He saw the boyâs wrist snake up under the girlâs
shirt. She didnâ t protest. An old woman directly across from Miller slept,
her head lolling against the wall of the car , her snores almost delicate.
These people were what it was all about, Miller told himself. Normal
The Weight of Truth
- Detective Miller reflects on his duty to protect the mundane lives of Ceres citizens from the encroaching chaos of interplanetary war.
- Anderson Dawes, an OPA leader, visits Miller's apartment to provide evidence regarding missing police riot gear.
- The investigation reveals that the gear was diverted to a non-existent unit and smuggled off-station by a front for organized crime.
- Dawes pressures Miller to fulfill his end of their bargain by dropping the investigation into Julie Mao.
- Miller realizes that the truth behind the Scopuli and the missing gear is far more dangerous than simple local corruption.
If they let the station turn into a riot zone, let order fail, all these lives would get turned into kibble like a kitten in a meat grinder.
teriyaki chicken. All around him on the tube, normal citizens of Ceres read
their newsfeeds and listened to music. A young couple half a car up from
him leaned close to each other , murmuring and giggling. They might have
been sixteen. Seventeen. He saw the boyâs wrist snake up under the girlâs
shirt. She didnâ t protest. An old woman directly across from Miller slept,
her head lolling against the wall of the car , her snores almost delicate.
These people were what it was all about, Miller told himself. Normal
people living small lives in a bubble of rock surrounded by hard vacuum. If
they let the station turn into a riot zone, let order fail, all these lives would
get turned into kibble like a kitten in a meat grinder . Making sure it didnâ t
happen was for people like him, Muss, even Shaddid.
So, a small voice said in the back of his mind, why isnât it your job to
stop Mars fr om dr opping a nuke and cracking Cer es like an egg? Whatâ s the
bigger threat to that guy standin g over there, a few unlicensed whor es or a
Belt at war with Mars?
What was the harm that could come from knowing what happened to
the Scopuli?
But of course he knew the answer to that. He couldnâ t judge how
dangerous the truth was until he knew itâwhich was itself a fine reason to
keep going.
The OPA man, Anderson Dawes, was sitting on a cloth folding chair
outside Miller âs hole, reading a book. It was a real bookâonionskin pages
bound in what might have been actual leather . Miller had seen pictures of
them before; the idea of that much weight for a single megabyte of data
struck him as decadent.
âDetective.â
âMr. Dawes.â
âI was hoping we could talk.â
Miller was glad, as they went inside together , that heâd cleaned up a
little. All the beer bottles had gone to recycler . The tables and cabinets were
dusted. The cushions on the chairs had all been mended or replaced. As
Dawes took his seat, Miller realized heâd done the housework in
anticipation of this meeting. He hadnâ t realized it until now .
Dawes put his book on the table, dug in his jacket pocket, and slid a
thin black filmdrive across the table. Miller picked it up.
âWhat am I going to see on this?â he asked.
âNothing you canâ t confirm in the records,â Dawes answered.
âAnything fabricated?â
âYes,â Dawes said. His grin did nothing to improve his appearance.
âBut not by us. You asked about the police riot gear. It was signed for by a
Sergeant Pauline Trikoloski for transfer to special services unit twenty-
three.â
âSpecial services twenty-three?â
âYes,â Dawes said. âIt doesnâ t exist. Nor does Trikoloski. The
equipment was all boxed up, signed for, and delivered to a dock. The
freighter in the berth at the time was registered to the Corpora çþ do Gato
Preto.â
âBlack Cat?â
âYou know them?â
âImport-export, same as everyon e else,â Miller said with a shrug. âWe
investigated them as a possible front for the Loca Greiga. Never tied them
down, though.â
âYou were right.â
âYou prove it?â
âNot my job,â Dawes said. âBut this might interest you. Auto mated
docking logs for the ship when she left here and when she arrived on
Ganymede. Sheâs three tons lighter , not even counting reaction mass
consumption. And the transit time is longer than the orbital mechanics
projections.â
âSomeone met her,â Miller said. âTransferred the gear to another
ship.â
âThereâ s your answer ,â Dawes said. âBoth of them. The riot gear was
taken off the station by local organized crime. There arenâ t records to
support it, but I think itâs safe to assume that they also shipped out the
personnel to use that gear .â
âWhere to?â
Dawes lifted his hands. Miller nodded. They were off station. Case
closed. Another one for the good guys.
Damn.
âIâve kept my part of our bargain,â Dawes said. âYou asked for
information. Iâve gotten it. Now , are you going to keep your end?â
âDrop the Mao investigation,â Miller said. It wasnâ t a question, and
Broken Deals and Boarding Actions
- Detective Miller strikes a deal with Dawes to drop the investigation into Julie Mao, though he secretly intends to continue his search independently.
- Dawes reveals that stolen riot gear and personnel have been moved off Ceres by organized crime, effectively closing the official case.
- On a different front, Holden and his crew are caught in a violent ambush within a docking bay, resulting in serious injuries to Amos and Kelly.
- Amidst the chaos of a grenade attack and machine gun fire, Holden and Naomi narrowly survive thanks to a desperate tactical maneuver and covering fire from Gomez.
The man with the grenade launcher shuddered and dissolved in a spray of blood and small detonations.
âThereâ s your answer ,â Dawes said. âBoth of them. The riot gear was
taken off the station by local organized crime. There arenâ t records to
support it, but I think itâs safe to assume that they also shipped out the
personnel to use that gear .â
âWhere to?â
Dawes lifted his hands. Miller nodded. They were off station. Case
closed. Another one for the good guys.
Damn.
âIâve kept my part of our bargain,â Dawes said. âYou asked for
information. Iâve gotten it. Now , are you going to keep your end?â
âDrop the Mao investigation,â Miller said. It wasnâ t a question, and
Dawes didnâ t act is if it were. Miller leaned back in his chair .
Juliette Andromeda Mao. Inner system heiress turned OPA courier .
Pinnace racer . Brown belt, aiming for black.
âSure, what the hell,â he said. âItâs not like I would have shipped her
back home if Iâd found her .â
âNo?â
Miller shifted his hands in a gesture that meant Of course not.
âSheâ s a good kid,â Miller said. âHow would you feel if you were all
grown up and Mommy could still pull you back home by your ear? It was a
bullshit job from the start.â
Dawes smiled again. This time it actually did help a little.
âIâm glad to hear you say that, Detective. And I wonâ t forget the rest of
our agreement. When we find her, I will tell you. Youâve got my word on
it.â
âI appreciate that,â Miller said.
There was a moment of silence. Miller couldnâ t decide if it was
companionable or awkward. Maybe there was room for both. Dawes rose,
put out his hand. Miller shook it. Dawes left. Two cops working for
different sides. Maybe they had something in common.
Didnâ t mean Miller was uncomfortable lying to the man.
He opened his terminalâ s encryption program, routed it to his
communication suite, and started talking into the camera.
âWe havenât met, sir, but I hope youâll find a few minutes to help me
out. Iâm Detective Miller with Star Helix Security . Iâm on the Ceres
security contract, and Iâve been tasked with finding your daughter . Iâve got
a couple questions.â
Chapter Fifteen
Holden
Holden grabbed for Naomi. He struggled to orient himself as the two of
them spun across the bay with nothing to push off of and nothing to arrest
their flight. They were in the middle of the room with no cover .
The blast had hurled Kelly five meters through the air and into the side
of a packing crate, where he was floating now , one magnetic boot connected
to the side of the container , the other struggling to connect with the deck.
Amos had been blown down, and lay flat on the floor , his lower leg stuck
out at an impossible angle. Alex crouched at his side.
Holden craned his neck, looking toward the attackers. There was the
boarder with the grenade launch er who had blasted Kelly , lining up on them
for the killing shot. Weâre dead, Holden thought. Naomi made an obscene
gesture.
The man with the grenade launcher shuddered and dissolved in a spray
of blood and small detonations.
âGet to the ship!â Gomez screamed from the radio. His voice was
grating and high, half shrieking pain and half battle ecstasy .
Holden pulled the tether line of f Naomiâ s suit.
âWhat are youâŚ?â she began.
âTrust me,â he said, then put his feet into her stomach and shoved off,
hard. He hit the deck while she spun toward the ceiling. He kicked on his
boot mags and then yanked the tether to pull her down to him.
The room strobed with sustained machine gun fire. Holden said, âStay
low,â and ran as quickly as his magnetic boots would allow toward Alex
and Amos. The mechanic moved his limbs feebly , so he was still alive.
Holden realized he still had the end of Naomiâ s tether in his hand, so he
clipped it on to a loop on his suit. No more getting separated.
Holden lifted Amos off the deck, then checked the inertia. The
mechanic grunted and muttered something obscene. Holden attached Amosâ
Escape to the Tachi
- Holden gathers his injured crew under heavy fire, physically tethering them to his own suit to ensure no one is left behind.
- The group makes a desperate run for the MCRN frigate while a lone marine, Gomez, provides a suicidal distraction against enemy fire.
- Lieutenant Kelly, despite sustaining life-threatening injuries and leaking blood, successfully leads the survivors into the ship's airlock.
- Alex Kamal is thrust into the pilot's seat of the Tachi, a ready-standby vessel, as the crew prepares for an immediate high-throttle departure.
A wasp stung Holdenâs arm, and his suitâs head-up display informed him that it had sealed a minor breach.
grating and high, half shrieking pain and half battle ecstasy .
Holden pulled the tether line of f Naomiâ s suit.
âWhat are youâŚ?â she began.
âTrust me,â he said, then put his feet into her stomach and shoved off,
hard. He hit the deck while she spun toward the ceiling. He kicked on his
boot mags and then yanked the tether to pull her down to him.
The room strobed with sustained machine gun fire. Holden said, âStay
low,â and ran as quickly as his magnetic boots would allow toward Alex
and Amos. The mechanic moved his limbs feebly , so he was still alive.
Holden realized he still had the end of Naomiâ s tether in his hand, so he
clipped it on to a loop on his suit. No more getting separated.
Holden lifted Amos off the deck, then checked the inertia. The
mechanic grunted and muttered something obscene. Holden attached Amosâ
tether to his suit too. Heâd carry the whole crew if that was what it took.
Without saying a word, Alex clipped his tether to Holden and gave him a
weary thumbs-up.
âThat was⌠I mean, fuck, â Alex said.
âYeah,â Holden said.
âJim,â Naomi said. âLook!â
Holden followed her gaze. Kelly was staggering toward them. His
armor was visibly crushed on the left side of his torso, and hydraulic fluid
leaked from his suit into a trail of droplets floating behind him, but he was
movingâtoward the frigate.
âOkay ,â Holden said. âLetâ s go.â
The five of them moved as a group to the ship, the air around them
filled with piece s of packing crates blown apart by the ongoin g battle. A
wasp stung Holdenâ s arm, and his suitâs head-up display informed him that
it had sealed a minor breach. He felt something warm trickle down his
bicep.
Gomez shouted like a madman over the radio as he dashed around the
outer edge of the bay, firing wildly . The return fire was constant. Holden
saw the marine hit again and again, small explosions and ablative clouds
coming off his suit until Holden could hardly believe that there could be
anything inside it still living. But Gomez kept the enemyâ s attention, and
Holden and the crew were able to limp up to the half cover of the corvetteâ s
airlock.
Kelly pulled a small metal card from a pocket on his armor . A swipe of
the card opened the outer door, and Holden pulled Amosâ floating body
inside. Naomi, Alex, and the wounded marine came in after, staring at each
other in shocked disbelief as the airlock cycled and the inner doors opened.
âI canâ t believe weâŚâ Alex said; then his voice trailed of f.
âTalk about it later,â Kelly barked. âAlex Kamal, you served on
MCRN ships. Can you fly this thing?â
âSure, El T ee,â Alex replied, then visibly straightened. âWhy me?â
âOur other pilotâ s outside getting killed. Take this,â Kelly said,
handing him the metal card. âThe rest of you, get strapped in. Weâve lost a
lot of time.â
Up close, the damage to Kellyâ s armor was even more apparent. He
had to have severe injuries to his chest. And not all the liquid coming out of
the suit was hydraulic fluid. There was definitely blood as well.
âLet me help you,â Holden said, reaching for him.
âDonâ t touch me,â Kelly said, with an anger that took Hold en by
surprise. âY ou get strapped in, and you shut the fuck up. Now .â
Holden didnâ t argue. He unhook ed the tethers from his suit and helped
Naomi maneuver Amos to the crash couches and strap him in. Kelly stayed
on the deck above, but his voice came over the shipâ s comm.
âMr. Kamal, are we ready to fly?â he said.
âRoger that, El T ee. The reactor was already hot when we got here.â
âThe Tachi was the ready standby . Thatâ s why weâre taking her. Now
go. As soon as we clear the hangar , full throttle.â
âRoger ,â Alex said.
Gravity returned in tiny bursts at random directions as Alex lifted the
Escape from the Donnager
- Holden and his crew narrowly escape the MCRN Donnager aboard the Tachi as the flagship is boarded and eventually self-destructs.
- Alex Kamal uses the ship's point defense cannons to enact 'roadside justice' on enemy forces before engaging high-G maneuvers.
- The crew suffers physical trauma from the intense acceleration, leaving Amos with a severe compound fracture and Naomi in a state of emotional shock.
- The destruction of the Donnager confirms Captain Yao's resolve to destroy her own ship rather than let it fall into enemy hands.
- Naomi reaches a breaking point, lashing out at Holden for expecting her to have expertise beyond her role as an engineer during the crisis.
Holden was imagining what several hundred rounds of Teflon-coated tungsten steel going five thousand meters per second would do to human bodies when Alex threw down the throttle and a roomful of elephants swan dived onto his chest.
Up close, the damage to Kellyâ s armor was even more apparent. He
had to have severe injuries to his chest. And not all the liquid coming out of
the suit was hydraulic fluid. There was definitely blood as well.
âLet me help you,â Holden said, reaching for him.
âDonâ t touch me,â Kelly said, with an anger that took Hold en by
surprise. âY ou get strapped in, and you shut the fuck up. Now .â
Holden didnâ t argue. He unhook ed the tethers from his suit and helped
Naomi maneuver Amos to the crash couches and strap him in. Kelly stayed
on the deck above, but his voice came over the shipâ s comm.
âMr. Kamal, are we ready to fly?â he said.
âRoger that, El T ee. The reactor was already hot when we got here.â
âThe Tachi was the ready standby . Thatâ s why weâre taking her. Now
go. As soon as we clear the hangar , full throttle.â
âRoger ,â Alex said.
Gravity returned in tiny bursts at random directions as Alex lifted the
ship off the deck and spun it toward the hangar door. Holden finished
putting on his straps and checke d to see that Naomi and Amos were squared
away . The mechanic was moaning and holding on to the edge of the couch
with a death grip.
âYou still with us, Amos?â Holden said.
âFan-fucking-tastic, Cap.â
âOh shit, I can see Gomez,â Alex said over the comm. âHeâ s down.
Aw, you goddammed bastards! Theyâre shootinâ him while heâs down! Son
of a bitch!â
The ship stopped moving, and Alex said in a quiet voice, âSuck on
this, asshole.â
The ship vibrated for half a second, then paused before continuing
toward the lock.
âPoint defense cannons?â Holden asked.
âSummary roadside justice,â Alex grunted back.
Holden was imagining what several hundred rounds of Teflon-coated
tungsten steel going five thousand meters per second would do to human
bodies when Alex threw down the throttle and a roomful of elephants swan
dived onto his chest.
Holden woke in zero g. His eye sockets and testicles ached, so theyâd been
at high thrust for a while. The wall terminal next to him said it had been
almost half an hour. Naomi was moving in her couch, but Amos was
unconscious, and blood was coming out of a hole in his suit at an alarming
rate.
âNaomi, check Amos,â Holden croaked, his throat aching with the
effort. âAlex, report.â
âThe Donnie went up behind us, Cap. Guess the marines didnâ t hold.
Sheâs gone,â Alex said in a subdued voice.
âThe six attacking ships?â
âI havenât seen any sign of them since the explosion. Iâd guess theyâre
toast.â
Holden nodded to himself. Summary roadside justice, indeed.
Boarding a ship was one of the riskiest maneuvers in naval combat. It was
basically a race between the boarders rushing to the engine room and the
collective will of those who had their fingers on the self-destruct button.
After even one look at Captain Yao, Holden could have told them whoâd
lose that race.
Still. Someone had thought it was worth the risk.
Holden pulled his straps off and floated over to Amos. Naomi had
opened an emer gency kit and was cutting the mechanicâ s suit off with a pair
of heavy scissors. The hole had been punched out by a jagged end of Amosâ
broken tibia when the suit had pushed against it at twelve g.
When sheâd finished cutting the suit away , Naomi blanched at the
mass of blood and gore that Amosâ lower leg had turned into.
âWhat do we do?â Holden asked.
Naomi just stared at him, then barked out a harsh laugh.
âI have no idea,â she said.
âBut youââ Holden started. She talked right over him.
âIf he were made of metal, Iâd just hammer him straight and then weld
everything into place,â she said.
âIââ
âBut he isnât made out of ship parts,â she continued, her voice rising
into a yell, âso why are you asking me what to do?â
Holden held up his hands in a placating gesture.
âOkay , got it. Letâ s just stop the bleeding for now , all right?â
âIf Alex gets killed, are you going to ask me to fly the ship too?â
Holden started to answer and then stopped. She was right. Whenever
Trauma and Field Surgery
- Holden realizes he has been using Naomi as an emotional crutch and resolves to take responsibility for the medical crisis.
- The crew discovers that Lieutenant Kelly has died from severe internal injuries sustained during the high-G maneuvers.
- Holden performs a gruesome field procedure to set Amos' compound fracture, causing the mechanic to wake up screaming.
- The survivors are left in a state of physical and emotional collapse as they drift aimlessly through space.
- Holden gains a newfound respect for the Martian marines who sacrificed their lives to ensure the crew's escape.
He had to pull the leg out twice, because the first time the bones didnât line up, and when he let go, the jagged end of the tibia popped back out the hole in a spray of blood.
mass of blood and gore that Amosâ lower leg had turned into.
âWhat do we do?â Holden asked.
Naomi just stared at him, then barked out a harsh laugh.
âI have no idea,â she said.
âBut youââ Holden started. She talked right over him.
âIf he were made of metal, Iâd just hammer him straight and then weld
everything into place,â she said.
âIââ
âBut he isnât made out of ship parts,â she continued, her voice rising
into a yell, âso why are you asking me what to do?â
Holden held up his hands in a placating gesture.
âOkay , got it. Letâ s just stop the bleeding for now , all right?â
âIf Alex gets killed, are you going to ask me to fly the ship too?â
Holden started to answer and then stopped. She was right. Whenever
he didnât know what to do, he handed off to Naomi. Heâd been doing it for
years. She was smart, capable, usually unflappable. Sheâd become a crutch,
and sheâd been through all the same trauma he had. If he didnâ t start paying
attention, heâd break her , and he needed not to do that.
âYouâre right. Iâll take care of Amos,â he said. âYou go up and check
on Kelly . Iâll be there in a few minutes.â
Naomi stared at him until her breathing slowed, then said, âOkay ,â and
headed to the crew ladder .
Holden sprayed Amosâ leg with coagulant booster and wrapped it in
gauze from the first aid kit. Then he called up the shipâ s database on the
wall terminal and did a search on compound fractures. He was reading it
with growing dismay when Naomi called.
âKellyâ s dead,â she said, her voice flat.
Holdenâ s stomach dropped, and he gave himself three breaths to get
the panic out of his voice.
âOkay . Iâll need your help setting this bone. Come on back down.
Alex? Give me half a g of thrust while we work on Amos.â
âAny particular direction, Cap?â Alex asked.
âI donâ t care, just give me half a g and stay of f the radio till I say so.â
Naomi dropped back down the ladder well as the gravity started to
come up.
âIt looks like every rib on the left side of Kellyâ s body was broken,â
she said. âThrust g probably punctured all his or gans.â
âHe had to know that was going to happen,â Holden said.
âYeah.â
It was easy to make fun of the marines when they werenâ t listen ing. In
Holdenâ s navy days, making fun of jarheads was as natural as cussing. But
four marines had died getting him off the Donnager , and three of them had
made a conscio us decision to do so. Holden promised himself that heâd
never make fun of them again.
âWe need to pull the bone straig ht before we set it. Hold him still, and
Iâll pull on his foot. Let me know when the bone has retracted and lined up
again.â
Naomi started to protest.
âI know youâre not a doctor . Just best guess,â Holden said.
It was one of the most horrible things Holden had ever done. Amos
woke up scream ing during the procedure. He had to pull the leg out twice,
because the first time the bones didnâ t line up, and when he let go, the
jagged end of the tibia popped back out the hole in a spray of blood.
Fortunately , Amos passed out after that and they were able to make the
second attempt without the screaming. It seemed to work. Holden sprayed
the wound down with antiseptic s and coagulants. He stapled the hole closed
and slapped a growth-stimulating bandage over it, then finished up with a
quick-form air -cast and an antibiotic patch on the mechanicâ s thigh.
Afterward he collapsed onto the deck and gave in to the shakes. Naomi
climbed into her couch and sobbed. It was the first time Holden had ever
seen her cry .
Holden, Alex, and Naomi floated in a loose triangle around the crash couch
where Lieutenant Kellyâ s body lay. Below , Amos was in a heavily sedated
sleep. The Tachi drifted through space toward no particular destination. For
The Tachi and Legitimate Salvage
- The crew of the Tachi recovers from the trauma of the Donnager's destruction while drifting aimlessly in space.
- Holden struggles with leadership and paranoia, fearing that every safe haven they seek will be destroyed.
- Alex reveals he disabled the ship's transponder, effectively making the Martian warship invisible to the solar system.
- The crew decides to contact Fred Johnson and the OPA as their only viable option for landing a stolen military vessel.
- Holden orders a formal burial for Lieutenant Kelly to honor his sacrifice and maintain military tradition.
It doesnât have to be right, it just has to be something.
and slapped a growth-stimulating bandage over it, then finished up with a
quick-form air -cast and an antibiotic patch on the mechanicâ s thigh.
Afterward he collapsed onto the deck and gave in to the shakes. Naomi
climbed into her couch and sobbed. It was the first time Holden had ever
seen her cry .
Holden, Alex, and Naomi floated in a loose triangle around the crash couch
where Lieutenant Kellyâ s body lay. Below , Amos was in a heavily sedated
sleep. The Tachi drifted through space toward no particular destination. For
the first time in a long time, no one followed.
Holden knew the other two were waiting for him. Waiting to hear how
he was going to save them. They looked at him expectantly . He tried to
appear calm and thoughtful. Inside, he panicked. He had no idea where to
go. No idea what to do. Ever since theyâd found the Scopuli, everywhere
that should have been safe had turned into a death trap. The Canterbury , the
Donnager . Holden was terrified of going anywher e, for fear that it would be
blown up moments later .
Do something, a mento r of a decade earlier said to his young officers.
It doesnâ t have to be right, it just has to be something.
âSomeone is going to investiga te what happened to the Donnager ,â
Holden said. âMartian ships are speeding to that spot as we speak. Theyâll
already know the Tachi got away , because our transponder is blabbing our
survival to the solar system at lar ge.â
âNo it ainâ t,â Alex said.
âExplain that, Mr . Kamal.â
âThis is a torpedo bomber . You think they want a nice trans ponder
signal to lock on to when theyâre makinâ runs on an enemy capital ship?
Naw, thereâ s a handy switch up in the cockpit that says âtransponder off.â I
flipped it before we flew out. Weâre just another moving object out of a
million like us.â
Holden was silent for two long breaths.
âAlex, that may be the single greatest thing anyone has ever done, in
the history of the universe,â he said.
âBut we canât land, Jim,â Naom i said. âOne, no port is going to let a
ship with no transponder signal anywhere near them, and two, as soon as
they make us out visually , the fact that weâre a Martian warship will be hard
to hide.â
âYep, thatâ s the downside,â Alex agreed.
âFred Johnson,â Holden said, âgave us the network address to get in
touch with him. Iâm thinking that the OPA might be the one group that
would let us land our stolen Martian warship somewhere.â
âIt ainâ t stolen,â Alex said. âItâ s legitimate salvage now .â
âYeah, you make that argument to the MCRN if they catch us, but letâs
try and make sure they donâ t.â
âSo, we just wait here till Colonel Johnson gets back to us?â Alex
asked.
âNo, I wait. You two prep Lieut enant Kelly for burial. Alex, you were
MCRN. You know the traditions . Do it with full honors and record it in the
log. He died to get us off that ship, and weâre going to accord him every
respect. As soon as we land anywhere, weâll bounce the full record to
MCRN command so they can do it of ficially .â
Alex nodded. âW eâll do it right, sir .â
Fred Johnson replied to his message so fast that Holden wondered if heâd
been sitting at his terminal waiting for it. Johnsonâ s message consisted only
of coordinates and the word tightbeam. Holden aimed the laser array at the
specified locationâit was the same one Fred had beamed his first message
fromâthen turned on his mic and said, âFred?â
The coordinates given were more than eleven light-minutes away .
Holden prepared to wait twenty -two minutes for his answer . Just to have
something to do, he fed the location up to the cockpit and told Alex to fly in
that direction at one g as soon as theyâd finished with Lieutenant Kelly .
Twenty minutes later the thrust came up and Naomi climbed the
Safe Harbor and Martian Mourning
- Holden contacts Fred Johnson to request sanctuary and a way to disguise their stolen Martian gunboat.
- Naomi secures the body of Lieutenant Kelly in the cargo bay and discovers a mysterious data-storage cube hidden in his armor.
- Fred Johnson provides a legitimate transponder code and coordinates to a safe harbor, signaling the crew's entry into high-stakes politics.
- On Ceres, Miller watches the Martian President blame the entire Belt for the destruction of the Donnager, escalating interplanetary tensions.
âNew transponder code?â Naomi said. âHow does the OPA get new transponder codes?â
Fred Johnson replied to his message so fast that Holden wondered if heâd
been sitting at his terminal waiting for it. Johnsonâ s message consisted only
of coordinates and the word tightbeam. Holden aimed the laser array at the
specified locationâit was the same one Fred had beamed his first message
fromâthen turned on his mic and said, âFred?â
The coordinates given were more than eleven light-minutes away .
Holden prepared to wait twenty -two minutes for his answer . Just to have
something to do, he fed the location up to the cockpit and told Alex to fly in
that direction at one g as soon as theyâd finished with Lieutenant Kelly .
Twenty minutes later the thrust came up and Naomi climbed the
ladder . Sheâd stripped off her vacuum suit and was wearing a red Martian
jumpsuit that was half a foot too short for her and three times too big
around. Her hair and face looked clean.
âThis ship has a head with a shower . Can we keep it?â she said.
âHowâd it go?â
âWe took care of him. Thereâ s a decent-sized cargo bay down by
engineering. We put him there until we can find some way to send him
home. I turned of f the environment in there, so heâll stay preserved.â
She held out her hand and dropped a small black cube into his lap.
âThat was in a pocket under his armor ,â she said.
Holden held up the object. It looked like some sort of data- storage
device.
âCan you find out whatâ s on it?â he asked.
âSure. Give me some time.â
âAnd Amos?â
âBlood pressure âs steady ,â Naomi said. âThatâ s got to be a good
thing.â
The comm console beeped at them, and Holden started the playback.
âJim, news of the Donnager has just started hitting the net. I admit I
am extre mely surprised to be hearing from you,â said Fredâ s voice. âWhat
can I do for you?â
Holden paused a moment while he mentally prepared his response.
Fredâ s suspicion was palpable, but heâd sent Holden a keyword to use for
exactly that reason.
âFred. While our enemies have become ubiquitous, our list of friends
has grown kind of short. In fact, youâre pretty much it. I am in a stolenââ
Alex cleared his throat.
âA salvaged MCRN gunboat,â Holden went on. âI need a way to hide
that fact. I need somewhere to go where they wonâ t just shoot me down for
showing up. Help me do that.â
It was half an hour before the reply came.
âIâve attached a datafile on a subchannel,â Fred said. âItâs got your
new transponder code and directions on how to install it. The code will
check out in all the registries. Itâs legitimate. Itâs also got coordinates that
will get you to a safe harbor . Iâll meet you there. We have a lot to talk
about.â
âNew transponder code?â Naom i said. âHow does the OPA get new
transponder codes?â
âHack the Earth-Mars Coalition âs security protocols or get a mole in
the registry office,â Holden said. âEither way, I think weâre playing in the
big league now .â
Chapter Sixteen
Miller
Miller watched the feed from Mars along with the rest of the station. The
podium was draped in black, which was a bad sign. The single star and
thirty stripes of the Martian Congressional Republic hung in the
background not once, but eight times. That was worse.
âThis cannot happen without careful planning,â the Martian president
said. âThe information they sought to steal would have compromised
Martian fleet security in a profound and fundamental way. They failed, but
at the price of two thousand and eighty-six Martian lives. This aggression is
something the Belt has been preparing for years at the least.â
The Belt, Miller noticed. Not the OP Aâthe Belt.
âIn the week since first news of that attack, we have seen thirty
incursions into the security radius of Martian ships and bases, including
Pallas Station. If those refineries were to be lost, the economy of Mars
could suffer irreversible dama ge. In the face of an armed, organized
The Outbreak of War
- Mars officially declares a military mandate to secure the Belt after suffering significant casualties and economic threats.
- The transition from a secret conflict to an open war brings a grim sense of relief to Miller, ending the period of social evasion.
- Ceres Station faces an uncertain future as a neutral territory caught between the interests of Earth, Mars, and the OPA.
- The local police force at Star Helix experiences heightened tension, masking their anxiety with dark humor and professional detachment.
- Miller realizes that the scale of the coming conflict could lead to the total destruction of the station and its millions of inhabitants.
He couldnât fix the cancer of war, couldnât even slow down the spread, but at least he could admit it was happening.
Martian fleet security in a profound and fundamental way. They failed, but
at the price of two thousand and eighty-six Martian lives. This aggression is
something the Belt has been preparing for years at the least.â
The Belt, Miller noticed. Not the OP Aâthe Belt.
âIn the week since first news of that attack, we have seen thirty
incursions into the security radius of Martian ships and bases, including
Pallas Station. If those refineries were to be lost, the economy of Mars
could suffer irreversible dama ge. In the face of an armed, organized
guerrilla force, we have no choice but to enforce a military cordon on the
stations, bases, and ships of the Belt. Congress has delivered new orders to
all naval elements not presently involved in active Coalition duty, and it is
our hope that our brothers and sisters of Earth will approve joint Coalition
maneuvers with the greatest possible speed.
âThe new mandate of the Martian navy is to secure the safety of all
honest citizens, to dismantle the infrastructures of evil presently hiding in
the Belt, and bring to justice those responsible for these attacks. I am
pleased to say that our initial actions have resulted in the destruction of
eighteen illegal warships andââ
Miller turned off the feed. That was it, then. The secret war was out of
the closet. Papa Mao had been right to want Julie out, but it was too late.
His darling daughter was going to have to take her chances, just like
everyone else.
At the very least, it was going to mean curfews and personnel tracking
all through Ceres Station. Officially , the station was neutral. The OPA
didnâ t own it or anything else. And Star Helix was an Earth corporation, not
under contractual or treaty obligation to Mars. At best, Mars and the OPA
would keep their fight outside the station. At worst, there would more riots
on Ceres. More death.
No, that wasnâ t true. At worst, Mars or the OPA would make a
statement by throwing a rock or a handful of nuclear warheads at the
station. Or by blowing a fusion drive on a docked ship. If things got out of
hand, it would mean six or seven million dead people and the end of
everything Miller had ever known.
Odd that it should feel almost like relief.
For weeks, Miller had known. Everyone had known. But it hadnâ t
actually happened, so every conversation, every joke, every chance
interaction and semi-anonymou s nod and polite moment of light banter on
the tube had seemed like an evasion. He couldnâ t fix the cancer of war,
couldnâ t even slow down the spread, but at least he could admit it was
happening. He stretched, ate his last bite of fungal curds, drank the dregs of
something not entirely unlike coffee, and headed out to keep peace in
wartime.
Muss greeted him with a vague nod when he got to the station house.
The board was filled with casesâcrimes to be investigated, documented,
and dismissed. T wice as many entries as the day before.
âBad night,â Miller said.
âCould be worse,â Muss said.
âYeah?â
âStar Helix could be a Mars corporation. As long as Earth stays
neutral, we donâ t have to actually be the Gestapo.â
âAnd how long you figure thatâll last?â
âWhat time is it?â she asked. âTell you what, though. When it does
come down, I need to make a stop up toward the core. There was this one
guy back when I was rape squad we could never quite nail.â
âWhy wait?â Miller asked. âWe could go up, put a bullet in him, be
back by lunch.â
âYeah, but you know how it is,â she said. âTrying to stay professional.
Anyway , if we did that, weâd have to investigate it, and thereâ s no room on
the board.â
Miller sat at his desk. It was just shoptalk. The kind of over-the-top
deadpan you did when your day was filled with underage whores and
tainted drugs. And still, there was a tension in the station. It was in the way
people laughed, the way they held themselves. There were more holsters
The Pressure Vessel
- Detective Miller observes a palpable tension in the Ceres station as officers brace for potential civil war following the destruction of the Donnager.
- Rumors of a schism within the OPA suggest that radical factions may be acting independently of the established leadership.
- Captain Shaddid officially removes Miller from the Julie Mao case, threatening disciplinary action if he continues his investigation.
- The presence of OPA leader Anderson Dawes in Shaddid's office reveals a compromising alliance between station security and the Belt's revolutionary face.
- Miller discovers that his communications have been monitored and his attempts to contact the Mao family were intercepted by his superiors.
We are sitting on a pressure vessel, and you keep swinging a pickax at it.
âWhy wait?â Miller asked. âWe could go up, put a bullet in him, be
back by lunch.â
âYeah, but you know how it is,â she said. âTrying to stay professional.
Anyway , if we did that, weâd have to investigate it, and thereâ s no room on
the board.â
Miller sat at his desk. It was just shoptalk. The kind of over-the-top
deadpan you did when your day was filled with underage whores and
tainted drugs. And still, there was a tension in the station. It was in the way
people laughed, the way they held themselves. There were more holsters
visible than usual, as if by showing their weapons they might be made safe.
âYou think itâ s the OP A?â Muss asked. Her voice was lower now .
âThat killed the Donnager , you mean? Who else could? Plus which,
theyâre taking credit for it.â
âSome of them are. From what I heard, thereâ s more than one OPA
these days. The old-school guys donât know a goddamn thing about any of
this. All shitting their pants and trying to track down the pirate casts that are
claiming credit.â
âSo they can do what?â Miller asked. âYou can shut down every
loudmouth caster in the Belt, it wonâ t change a thing.â
âIf thereâ s a schism in the OP A, thoughâŚâ Muss looked at the board.
If there was a schism within the OPA, the board as they saw it now
was nothing. Miller had lived through two major gang wars. First when the
Loca Greiga displaced and destroyed the Aryan Flyers, and then when the
Golden Bough split. The OPA was bigger , and meaner , and more
professional than any of them. That would be civil war in the Belt.
âMight not happen,â Miller said.
Shaddid stepped out of her office, her gaze sweeping the station house.
Conversations dimmed. Shaddi d caught Miller âs eye. She made a sharp
gesture. Get in the office.
âBusted,â Muss said.
In the office, Anderson Dawes sat at ease on one of the chairs. Miller
felt his body twitch as that infor mation fell into place. Mars and the Belt in
open, armed conflict. The OPAâs face on Ceres sitting with the captain of
the security force.
So thatâ s how it is, he thought.
âYouâre workin g the Mao job,â Shaddid said as she took her seat.
Miller hadnât been offered the option of sitting, so he clasped his hands
behind him.
âYou assigned it to me,â he said.
âAnd I told you it wasnâ t a priority ,â she said.
âI disagreed,â Miller said.
Dawes smiled. It was a surprisingly warm expression, especially
compared to Shaddidâ s.
âDetective Miller,â Dawes said. âYou donât understand whatâ s
happening here. We are sitting on a pressure vessel, and you keep swinging
a pickax at it. Y ou need to stop that.â
âYouâre off the Mao case,â Shaddid said. âDo you understand that? I
am officially removing you from that investigation as of right now. Any
further investigation you do, I will have you disciplined for working outside
your caseload and misappropriating Star Helix resources. You will return
any material on the case to me. You will wipe any data you have in your
personal partition. And youâll do it before the end of shift.â
Miller âs brain spun, but he kept his face impassive. She was taking
Julie away . He wasnât going to let her. That was a given. But it wasnâ t the
first issue.
âI have some inquiries in processâŚâ he began.
âNo, you donât,â Shaddid said. âYour little letter to the parents was a
breach of policy . Any contact with the shareholders should have come
through me.â
âYouâre telling me it didnâ t go out,â Miller said. Meaning Youâve been
monitoring me.
âIt did not,â Shaddid said. Yes, I have. What are you going to do about
it?
And there wasnâ t anything he could do.
âAnd the transcripts of the James Holden interrogation?â Miller said.
âDid those get out beforeâŚâ
Before the Donnanger was destroyed, taking with it the only living
The Politics of War
- Captain Shaddid reveals she has been monitoring Miller and blocked his unauthorized attempts to contact Juliette Mao's parents.
- Dawes argues that Star Helix and Earth must remain neutral and 'clean' to act as negotiators in the escalating system-wide conflict.
- Miller accuses the OPA of orchestrating the destruction of the Canterbury and the Donnager, but Dawes denies having such advanced technology.
- The OPA and Shaddid demand that Miller drop the investigation so they can pursue Juliette Mao and the Scopuli crew themselves.
- The stakes of the investigation are heightened as the characters realize Juliette Mao may hold the key to who started the war and why.
Our version of blowing up the Donnager is a whole bunch of tramp prospectors loaded with nukes going on a suicide mission.
Miller âs brain spun, but he kept his face impassive. She was taking
Julie away . He wasnât going to let her. That was a given. But it wasnâ t the
first issue.
âI have some inquiries in processâŚâ he began.
âNo, you donât,â Shaddid said. âYour little letter to the parents was a
breach of policy . Any contact with the shareholders should have come
through me.â
âYouâre telling me it didnâ t go out,â Miller said. Meaning Youâve been
monitoring me.
âIt did not,â Shaddid said. Yes, I have. What are you going to do about
it?
And there wasnâ t anything he could do.
âAnd the transcripts of the James Holden interrogation?â Miller said.
âDid those get out beforeâŚâ
Before the Donnanger was destroyed, taking with it the only living
witnesses to the Scopuli and plunging the system into war? Miller knew the
question sounde d like a whine. Shaddidâ s jaw tensed. He wouldnâ t have
been surprised to hear teeth cracking. Dawes broke the silence.
âI think we can make this a little easier ,â he said. âDetective, if Iâm
hearing you right, you think weâre burying the issue. We arenâ t. But itâs not
in anyoneâ s interests that Star Helix be the one to find the answers youâre
looking for. Think about it. You may be a Belter , but youâre working for an
Earth corporation. Right now, Earth is the only major power without an oar
in the water . The only one who can possibly negotiate with all sides.â
âAnd so why wouldnâ t they want to know the truth?â Miller said.
âThat isnât the problem,â Dawes said. âThe problem is that Star Helix
and Earth canât appear to be involved one way or the other . Their hands
need to stay clean. And this issue leads outside your contract. Juliette Mao
isnât on Ceres, and maybe there was a time you could have jumped a ship to
wherever you found her and done the abduction. Extradition. Extraction.
Whatever you want to call it. But that time has passed. Star Helix is Ceres,
part of Ganymed e, and a few dozen warehouse asteroids. If you leave that,
youâre going into enemy territory .â
âBut the OP A isnâ t,â Miller said.
âWe have the resources to do this right,â Dawes said with a nod. âMao
is one of ours. The Scopuli was one of ours.â
âAnd the Scopuli was the bait that killed the Canterbury ,â Miller said.
âAnd the Canterbury was the bait that killed the Donnager . So why exactly
would anyone be better off having you be the only ones looking into
something you might have done?â
âYou think we nuked the Canterbury ,â Dawes said. âThe OPA, with its
state-of-the-art Martian warships?â
âIt got the Donnanger out where it could be attacked. As long as it was
with the fleet, it couldnâ t have been boarded.â
Dawes looked sour .
âConspiracy theories, Mr. Miller ,â he said. âIf we had cloaked Martian
warships, we wouldnâ t be losing.â
âYou had enough to kill the Donnanger with just six ships.â
âNo. We didnâ t. Our version of blowing up the Donnager is a whole
bunch of tramp prospectors loaded with nukes going on a suicide mission.
We have many , many resources. What happened to the Donnager wasnâ t
part of them.â
The silence was broken only by the hum of the air recycler . Miller
crossed his arms.
âBut⌠I donât understand,â he said. âIf the OPA didnâ t start this, who
did?â
âThat is what Juliette Mao and the crew of the Scopuli can tell us,â
Shaddid said. âThose are the stakes, Miller . Who and why and please Christ
some idea of how to stop it.â
âAnd you donâ t want to find them?â Miller said.
âI donât want you to,â Dawes said. âNot when someone else can do it
better .â
Miller shook his head. It was going too far, and he knew it. On the
other hand, sometimes going too far could tell you something too.
âIâm not sold,â he said.
âYou donât have to be sold, â Shadd id said. âThis isnât a negotiation.
We arenâ t bringing you in to ask you for a goddamn favor . I am your boss. I
am telling you. Do you know those words? T elling. Y ou.â
âWe have Holden,â Dawes said.
The Station House Joke
- Captain Shaddid and the OPA operative Dawes formally order Miller to drop his investigation into Julie Mao.
- Dawes reveals that the OPA has James Holden and his crew in custody, rendering Miller's independent efforts redundant and unwelcome.
- Miller's partner, Muss, explains that the precinct intentionally assigns unsolvable or sensitive cases to 'fishes'âofficers who are no longer competent.
- Miller suffers a crushing realization that he is viewed by his peers as a washed-up alcoholic who is only kept around to handle 'shit cases'.
Heâd had to know that he was the station house joke. The guy who used to be good. The one whoâd lost it.
âAnd you donâ t want to find them?â Miller said.
âI donât want you to,â Dawes said. âNot when someone else can do it
better .â
Miller shook his head. It was going too far, and he knew it. On the
other hand, sometimes going too far could tell you something too.
âIâm not sold,â he said.
âYou donât have to be sold, â Shadd id said. âThis isnât a negotiation.
We arenâ t bringing you in to ask you for a goddamn favor . I am your boss. I
am telling you. Do you know those words? T elling. Y ou.â
âWe have Holden,â Dawes said.
âWhat?â Miller said at the same time Shaddid said, âYouâre not
supposed to talk about that.â
Dawes raised an arm toward Shaddid in the Beltâ s physical idiom of
telling someone to be quiet. To Miller âs surprise, she did as the OPA man
said.
âWe have Hold en. He and his crew didnâ t die, and they are or are
about to be in OPA custody . Do you understand what Iâm saying,
Detective? Do you see my point ? I can do this investigation because I have
the resources to do it. You canât even find out what happened to your own
riot gear .â
It was a slap. Miller looked at his shoes. Heâd broken his word to
Dawes about dropping the case, and the man hadnâ t brought it up until now.
He had to give the OPA operati ve points for that. Added to that, if Dawes
really did have James Holden, there was no chance of Miller âs getting
access to the interrogation.
When Shaddid spoke, her voice was surprisingly gentle.
âThere were three murders yesterday . Eight warehouses got broken
into, probably by the same bunch of people. Weâve got six people in
hospital wards around the statio n with their nerves falling apart from a bad
batch of bathtub pseudoheroin . The whole stationâ s jumpy ,â she said.
âThereâ s a lot of good you can do out there, Miller . Go catch some bad
guys.â
âSure, Captain,â Miller said. âY ou bet.â
Muss leaned against his desk, waiting for him. Her arms were crossed,
her eyes as bored looking at him as they had been looking at the corpse of
Dos Santos pinned to the corridor wall.
âNew asshole?â she asked.
âYeah.â
âItâll grow closed. Give it time. I got us one of the murders. Mid-level
accountant for Naobi-Shears got his head blown off outside a bar. It looked
fun.â
Miller pulled up his hand terminal and took in the basics. His heart
wasnâ t in it.
âHey , Muss,â he said. âI got a question.â
âFire away .â
âYouâve got a case you donâ t want solved. What do you do?â
His new partner frowned, tilted her head, and shrugged.
âI hand it to a fish,â she said. âThere was a guy back in crimes against
children. If we knew the perp was one of our informants, weâd always give
it to him. None of our guys ever got in trouble.â
âYeah,â Miller said.
âFor that matter , I need someo ne to take the shitty partner , I do the
same thing,â Muss went on. âYou know . Someone no one else wants to
work with? Got bad breath or a shitty personality or whatever , but he needs
a partne r. So I pick the guy who maybe he used to be good, but then he got
a divorc e. Starte d hitting the bottle. Guy still thinks heâs a hotshot. Acts like
it. Only his numbers arenâ t better than anyone elseâs. Give him the shit
cases. The shit partner .â
Miller closed his eyes. His stomach felt uneasy .
âWhat did you do?â he asked.
âTo get assigned to you?â Muss said. âOne of the seniors made the
moves on me and I shot him down.â
âSo you got stuck.â
âPretty much. Come on, Miller . You arenâ t stupid,â Muss said. âYou
had to know .â
Heâd had to know that he was the station house joke. The guy who
used to be good. The one whoâd lost it.
No, actually he hadnâ t known that. He opened his eyes. Muss didnâ t
look happy or sad, pleased at his pain or particularly distressed by it. It was
just work to her. The dead, the wounded, the injured. She didnât care. Not
caring was how she got through the day .
âMaybe you shouldnâ t have turned him down,â Miller said.
âAh, youâre not that bad,â Muss said. âAnd he had back hair. I hate
back hair .â
Miller's Late Revelation
- Detective Miller grapples with the painful realization that he has become a joke at the station and has spent years pursuing the wrong path.
- A local bartender named Hasini helps a dangerously intoxicated Miller home, providing a moment of grounded human connection amidst Miller's despair.
- Miller experiences a sense of existential vertigo, reflecting on his age and the state of a system at war while contemplating the infinite terror of a sky he has never seen.
- Through his drunken haze, Miller realizes that his obsession with the missing girl, Julie, has transcended his job and become a personal, tragic love.
- The narrative shifts focus to Holden on the Tachi, where he finds small comfort in the ship's high-end military-grade coffee maker.
The word had a depth to it. Late. It was late. All the chances to make things right had somehow passed him.
Heâd had to know that he was the station house joke. The guy who
used to be good. The one whoâd lost it.
No, actually he hadnâ t known that. He opened his eyes. Muss didnâ t
look happy or sad, pleased at his pain or particularly distressed by it. It was
just work to her. The dead, the wounded, the injured. She didnât care. Not
caring was how she got through the day .
âMaybe you shouldnâ t have turned him down,â Miller said.
âAh, youâre not that bad,â Muss said. âAnd he had back hair. I hate
back hair .â
âGlad to hear it,â Miller said. âLetâ s go make some justice.â
âYouâre drunk,â the asshole said.
ââM a cop,â Miller said, stabbing the air with his finger . âDon ât fuck
with me.â
âI know youâre a cop. Youâve been coming to my bar for three years.
Itâs me. Hasini. And youâre drunk, my friend. Seriously , dangerously
drunk.â
Miller looked around him. He was indeed at the Blue Frog. He didnâ t
remember havin g come here, and yet here he was. And the asshole was
Hasini after all.
âIâŚâ Miller began, then lost his train of thought.
âCome on,â Hasini said, looping an arm around him. âItâs not that far.
Iâll get you home.â
âWhat time is it?â Miller asked.
âLate.â
The word had a depth to it. Late. It was late. All the chances to make
things right had somehow passe d him. The system was at war, and no one
was even sure why. Miller himse lf was turning fifty years old the next June.
It was late. Late to start again. Late to realize how many years heâd spent
running down the wrong road. Hasini steered him toward an electric cart the
bar kept for occasions like this one. The smell of hot grease came out of the
kitchen.
âHold on,â Miller said.
âYou going to puke?â Hasini asked.
Miller considere d for a mome nt. No, it was too late to puke. He
stumbled forwar d. Hasini laid him back in the cart and engaged the motors,
and with a whin e they steered out into the corridor . The lights high above
them were dimmed. The cart vibrated as they passed intersection after
intersection. Or maybe it didnâ t. Maybe that was just his body .
âI thought I was good,â he said. âYou know , all this time, I thought I
was at least good.â
âYou do fine,â Hasini said. âY ouâve just got a shitty job.â
âThat I was good at.â
âYou do fine,â Hasini repeated, as if saying it would make it true.
Miller lay on the bed of the cart. The formed plastic arch of the wheel
well dug into his side. It ached, but moving was too much effort. Thinking
was too much effort. Heâd made it through his day, Muss at his side. Heâd
turned in the data and materials on Julie. He had nothing worth going back
to his hole for , and no place else to be.
The lights shifted into and out of his field of view . He wondered if that
was what it would be like to look at stars. Heâd never looked up at a sky.
The thought inspired a certain vertigo. A sense of terror of the infinite that
was almost pleasant.
âThere anyone who can take care of you?â Hasini said when they
reached Miller âs hole.
âIâll be fine. I just⌠I had a bad day .â
âJulie,â Hasini said, nodding.
âHow do you know about Julie?â Miller asked.
âYouâve been talking about her all night,â Hasini said. âSheâ s a girl
you fell for , right?â
Frowning, Miller kept a hand on the cart. Julie. Heâd been talking
about Julie. That was what this was about. Not his job. Not his reputation.
Theyâd taken away Julie. The special case. The one that mattered.
âYouâre in love with her ,â Hasini said.
âYeah, sort of,â Miller said, something like revelation forcing its way
through the alcohol. âI think I am.â
âToo bad for you,â Hasini said.
Chapter Seventeen
Holden
The Tachiâs galley had a full kitchen and a table with room for twelve. It
also had a full-s ize coffeepot that could brew forty cups of coffee in less
than five minutes whether the ship was in zero g or under a five-g burn.
Holden said a silent prayer of thanks for bloated military budgets and
pressed the brew button. He had to restrain himself from stroking the
Sanctuary on the Tachi
- The crew of the Tachi finds a rare moment of domestic peace while sharing a fresh meal and coffee in the ship's galley.
- Holden reflects on their newfound anonymity, realizing that the solar system believes they were killed during the destruction of the Donnager.
- The group honors their fallen crewmate Shed and the Martian marines who died to ensure their escape.
- Alex and Amos report that the ship is in pristine condition, signaling a transition from desperate flight to a new chapter of autonomy.
- Despite the brief comfort, the somber reality of their losses and the mystery of their pursuers continue to loom over the crew.
Holden said a silent prayer of thanks for bloated military budgets and pressed the brew button.
âYeah, sort of,â Miller said, something like revelation forcing its way
through the alcohol. âI think I am.â
âToo bad for you,â Hasini said.
Chapter Seventeen
Holden
The Tachiâs galley had a full kitchen and a table with room for twelve. It
also had a full-s ize coffeepot that could brew forty cups of coffee in less
than five minutes whether the ship was in zero g or under a five-g burn.
Holden said a silent prayer of thanks for bloated military budgets and
pressed the brew button. He had to restrain himself from stroking the
stainless steel cover while it made gentle percolating noises.
The aroma of coffee began to fill the air, competing with the baking-
bread smell of whatever Alex had put in the oven. Amos was thumping
around the table in his new cast, laying out plastic plates and actual honest-
to-god metal silverware. In a bowl Naomi was mixing something that had
the garlic scent of good hummus. W atching the crew work at these domestic
tasks, Holden had a sense of peace and safety deep enough to leave him
light-headed.
Theyâd been on the run for weeks now, pursued the entire time by one
mysterious ship or another . For the first time since the Canterbury was
destroyed, no one knew where they were. No one was demanding anything
of them. As far as the solar system was concerned, they were a few
casualties out of thousands on the Donnager . A brief vision of Shedâ s head
disappearing like a grisly magic trick reminded him that at least one of his
crew was a casualty . And still, it felt so good to once again be master of his
own destiny that even regret couldnâ t entirely rob him of it.
A timer rang, and Alex pulled out a tray covered with thin, flat bread.
He bega n cuttin g it into slices, onto which Naomi slathered a paste that did
in fact look like hummus. Amos put them on the plates around the table.
Holden drew fresh coffee into mugs that had the shipâ s name on the side.
He passed them around. There was an awkward moment when everyone
stared at the neatly set table without moving, as if afraid to destroy the
perfection of the scene.
Amos solved this by saying, âIâm hungry as a fucking bear,â and then
sitting down with a thump. âSomebody pass me that pepper , wouldja?â
For several minu tes, no one spoke; they only ate. Holden took a small
bite of the flat bread and hummus, the strong flavors making him dizzy
after weeks of tasteless protein bars. Then he was stuffing it into his mouth
so fast it made his salivary glands flare with exquisite agony . He looked
around the table , embarrassed, but everyone else was eating just as fast, so
he gave up on propriety and concentrated on food. When heâd finished off
the last scraps from his plate, he leaned back with a sigh, hoping to make
the contentment last as long as possible. Alex sipped coffee with his eyes
closed. Amos ate the last bits of the hummus right out of the serving bowl
with his spoon. Naomi gave Holden a sleepy look through half-lidded eyes
that was sudden ly sexy as hell. Holden quashed that thought and raised his
mug.
âTo Kellyâ s marines. Heroes to the last, may they rest in peace,â he
said.
âTo the marines,â everyone at the table echoed, then clinked mugs and
drank.
Alex raised his mug and said, âT o Shed.â
âYeah, to Shed, and to the assholes who killed him roasting in hell,â
Amos said in a quiet voice. âRight beside the fucker who killed the Cant. â
The mood at the table got somber . Holden felt the peaceful moment
slipping away as quietly as it had come.
âSo,â he said. âT ell me about our new ship. Alex?â
âSheâ s a beaut, Cap. I ran her at twelve g for most of half an hour
when we left the Donnie, and she purred like a kitten the whole time. The
pilotâ s chair is comfy too.â
Holden nodded.
âAmos? Get a chance to look at her engine room yet?â he asked.
âYep. Clean as a whistle. This is going to be a boring gig for a grease
monkey like me,â the mechanic replied.
Legs and Teeth
- The crew of the former Canterbury mourns their fallen comrade Shed while assessing their new, high-tech Martian gunship.
- Alex and Naomi report that the ship is in pristine condition, boasting a powerful Epstein drive, a fully stocked galley, and advanced medical facilities.
- The vessel is heavily armed with torpedoes, point defense cannons, and a 'Mobile Assault Package' containing gear for eight marines.
- Holden and his crew unanimously decide to seek refuge with Fred Johnson and the OPA, marking their transition from refugees to a small but lethal independent force.
- Holden declares a new personal philosophy of autonomy, vowing to use the ship's weapons against anyone who tries to order them around again.
I have a ship with guns on it now, and the next time someone orders me to do something, Iâm using them.
âYeah, to Shed, and to the assholes who killed him roasting in hell,â
Amos said in a quiet voice. âRight beside the fucker who killed the Cant. â
The mood at the table got somber . Holden felt the peaceful moment
slipping away as quietly as it had come.
âSo,â he said. âT ell me about our new ship. Alex?â
âSheâ s a beaut, Cap. I ran her at twelve g for most of half an hour
when we left the Donnie, and she purred like a kitten the whole time. The
pilotâ s chair is comfy too.â
Holden nodded.
âAmos? Get a chance to look at her engine room yet?â he asked.
âYep. Clean as a whistle. This is going to be a boring gig for a grease
monkey like me,â the mechanic replied.
âBoring would be nice,â Holden said. âNaomi? What do you think?â
She smiled. âI love it. Itâs got the nicest showers Iâve ever seen on a
ship this size. Plus, thereâ s a truly amazing medical bay with a
computerized expert system that knows how to fix broken marines. We
should have found it rather than fix Amos on our own.â
Amos thumped his cast with one knuckle.
âYou guys did a good job, Boss.â
Holden looked around at his clean crew and ran a hand throu gh his
own hair , not pulling it away covered in grease for the first time in weeks.
âYeah, a shower and not having to fix broken legs sounds good.
Anything else?â
Naomi tilted her head back, her eyes moving as though she was
running through a mental checklist.
âWeâve got a full tank of water , the injectors have enough fuel pellets
to run the react or for about thirty years, and the galley is fully stocked.
Youâll have to tie me up if you plan to give her back to the navy . I love her .â
âShe is a cunn ing little boat,â Holden said with a smile. âHave a
chance to look at the weapons?â
âTwo tubes and twenty long-range torpedoes with high-yield plasma
warheads,â Naomi said. âOr at least thatâs what the manifest says. They
load those from the outside, so I canât physically verify without climbing
around on the hull.â
âThe weapons panel is sayinâ the same thing, Cap,â Alex said. âAnd
full loads in all the point defense cannons. Y ou know , exceptâŚâ
Except the burst you fir ed into the men who killed Gomez.
âOh, and, Capta in, when we put Kelly in the cargo hold, I found a big
crate with the letters map on the side. According to the manife st, it stands
for âMobile Assault Package.â Apparently navy-speak for a big box of
guns,â Naomi said.
âYeah,â Alex said. âItâ s full kit for eight marines.â
âOkay ,â Holden said. âSo with the fleet-quality Epstein, weâve got
legs. And if you guys are right about the weapons load out, weâve also got
teeth. The next question is what do we do with it? Iâm inclined to take
Colonel Johnsonâ s offer of refuge. Any thoughts?â
âIâm all for that, Captain,â Amos said. âI always did think the Belters
were getting the short end of the stick. Iâll go be a revolutionary for a while,
I guess.â
âEarthmanâ s burden, Amos?â Naomi asked with a grin.
âWhat the fuck does that even mean?â
âNothing, just teasing,â she said. âI know you like our side because
you just want to steal our women.â
Amos grinned back, suddenly in on the joke.
âWell, you ladies do have the legs that go all the way up,â he said.
âOkay , enough,â Holden said, raising his hand. âSo, two votes for
Fred. Anyone else?â
Naomi raised her hand.
âI vote for Fred,â she said.
âAlex? What do you think?â Holden asked.
The Martian pilot leaned back in his chair and scratched his head.
âI got nowhere in particular to be, so Iâll stick with you guys, I guess,â
he said. âBut I hope this donât turn into another round of beinâ told what to
do.â
âIt wonât,â Holden replied. âI have a ship with guns on it now, and the
next time someone orders me to do something, Iâm using them.â
After dinner , Holden took a long, slow tour of his new ship. He opened
every door, looked in every closet, turned on every panel, and read every
readout. He stood in engineerin g next to the fusion reactor and closed his
Christening the Rocinante
- The crew votes to align with Fred Johnson, with Holden asserting his new authority and the ship's military capabilities.
- Holden conducts a thorough, sensory tour of the ship to bond with the vessel and claim his new living quarters.
- Naomi prepares to hack the ship's transponder but hesitates due to the potential for lethal military fail-safes.
- Holden takes a calculated risk by executing the transponder override, successfully renaming the ship the Rocinante.
- The interaction highlights the contrast between Naomi's technical caution and Holden's willingness to make high-stakes command decisions.
I have a ship with guns on it now, and the next time someone orders me to do something, Iâm using them.
Naomi raised her hand.
âI vote for Fred,â she said.
âAlex? What do you think?â Holden asked.
The Martian pilot leaned back in his chair and scratched his head.
âI got nowhere in particular to be, so Iâll stick with you guys, I guess,â
he said. âBut I hope this donât turn into another round of beinâ told what to
do.â
âIt wonât,â Holden replied. âI have a ship with guns on it now, and the
next time someone orders me to do something, Iâm using them.â
After dinner , Holden took a long, slow tour of his new ship. He opened
every door, looked in every closet, turned on every panel, and read every
readout. He stood in engineerin g next to the fusion reactor and closed his
eyes, getting used to the almost subliminal vibration she made. If something
ever went wrong with it, he wanted to feel it in his bones before any
warning ever sounded. He stopped and touched all the tools in the well-
stocked machine shop, and he climbed up to the personne l deck and
wandered throug h the crew cabins until he found one he liked, and messed
up the bed to show it was taken. He found a bunch of jumpsuits in what
looked like his size, then moved them to the closet in his new room. He
took a second shower and let the hot water massage knots in his back that
were three weeks old. As he wandered back to his cabin, he trailed his
fingers along the wall, feeling the soft give of the fire-retardan t foam and
anti-spalling webbing over the top of the armored steel bulkheads. When he
arrived at his cabin, Alex and Amos were both getting settled into theirs.
âWhich cabin did Naomi take?â he asked.
Amos shrugged. âSheâ s still up in ops, fiddling with something.â
Holden decided to put off sleep for a while and rode the keel ladder -lift
âwe have a lift!âup to the operations deck. Naomi was sitting on the
floor , an open bulkhead panel in front of her and what looked like a hundred
small parts and wires laid out around her in precise patterns. She was
staring at something inside the open compartment.
âHey , Naomi, you should really get some sleep. What are you working
on?â
She gestured vaguely at the compartment.
âTransponder ,â she said.
Holden moved over and sat down on the floor next to her .
âTell me how to help.â
She handed him her hand terminal; Fredâ s instructions for changing the
transponder signal were open on the screen.
âItâs ready to go. Iâve got the console hooked up to the transpo nderâs
data port just like he says. Iâve got the computer program set up to run the
override he describes. The new transponder code and ship regis try data are
ready to be entered. I put in the new name. Did Fred pick it?â
âNo, that was me.â
âOh. All right, then. ButâŚâ Her voice trailed off, and she waved at the
transponder again.
âWhatâ s the problem?â Holden asked.
âJim, they make these things not to be fiddled with. The civilian
version of this device fuses itself into a solid lump of silicon if it thinks itâs
being tampered with. Who know s what the military version of the fail-safe
is? Drop the magnetic bottle in the reactor? T urn us into a supernova?â
Naomi turned to look at him.
âIâve got it all set up and ready to go, but now I donât think we should
throw the switch,â she said. âW e donâ t know the consequences of failure.â
Holden got up of f the floor and moved over to the computer console. A
program Naomi had named Trans01 was waiting to be run. He hesitated for
one second, then pressed the button to execute. The ship failed to vaporize.
âI guess Fred wants us alive, then,â he said.
Naomi slumped down with a noisy , extended exhale.
âSee, this is why I canâ t ever be in command,â she said.
âDonâ t like making tough calls with incomplete information?â
âMore Iâm not suicidally irrespo nsible,â she replied, and began slowly
reassembling the transponder housing.
Holden punched the comm system on the wall. âWell, crew , welcome
aboard the gas freighter Rocinante. â
The Birth of the Rocinante
- Holden and Naomi risk a potential fail-safe explosion to reset the ship's transponder, successfully renaming the vessel the Rocinante.
- Naomi expresses her discomfort with the 'suicidally irresponsible' nature of command decisions made with incomplete information.
- The crew arrives at Tycho Station, a massive mobile construction platform and the historical heart of Belter engineering.
- Tycho Manufacturing is revealed as the powerhouse behind humanity's expansion, having spun asteroids like Ceres and Eros.
- Upon arrival, the crew is awestruck by the sheer scale of the station and a massive, unidentified vessel currently under construction.
It was the idea that four generations of the smartest people in the solar system had been living and working here as they helped drag humanity into the outer planets almost through sheer force of will.
version of this device fuses itself into a solid lump of silicon if it thinks itâs
being tampered with. Who know s what the military version of the fail-safe
is? Drop the magnetic bottle in the reactor? T urn us into a supernova?â
Naomi turned to look at him.
âIâve got it all set up and ready to go, but now I donât think we should
throw the switch,â she said. âW e donâ t know the consequences of failure.â
Holden got up of f the floor and moved over to the computer console. A
program Naomi had named Trans01 was waiting to be run. He hesitated for
one second, then pressed the button to execute. The ship failed to vaporize.
âI guess Fred wants us alive, then,â he said.
Naomi slumped down with a noisy , extended exhale.
âSee, this is why I canâ t ever be in command,â she said.
âDonâ t like making tough calls with incomplete information?â
âMore Iâm not suicidally irrespo nsible,â she replied, and began slowly
reassembling the transponder housing.
Holden punched the comm system on the wall. âWell, crew , welcome
aboard the gas freighter Rocinante. â
âWhat does that name even mean?â Naomi said after he let go of the
comm button.
âIt means we need to go find some windmills,â Holden said over his
shoulder as he headed to the lift.
Tycho Manufacturing and Engin eering Concern was one of the first major
corporations to move into the Belt. In the early days of expan sion, Tycho
engineers and a fleet of ships had captured a small comet and parked it in
stable orbit as a water resup ply point decades before ships like the
Canterbury began bringing ice in from the nearly limitless fields in Saturnâ s
rings. It had been the most complex, difficult feat of mass-scale engineering
humanity had ever accomplished until the next thing they did.
As an encore, Tycho had built the massive reaction drives into the rock
of Ceres and Eros and spent more than a decade teaching the asteroids to
spin. They had been slated to create a network of high-atmosphere floating
cities above Venus before the development rights fell into a labyrinth of
lawsuits now entering its eighth decade. There was some discussion of
space elevators for Mars and Earth, but nothing solid had come of it yet. If
you had an impossible engineer ing job that needed to be done in the Belt,
and you could af ford it, you hired T ycho.
Tycho Station, the Belt headqu arters of the company , was a massive
ring station built around a sphere half a kilometer across, with more than
sixty-five million cubic meters of manufacturing and storage space inside.
The two counter -rotating habitat ion rings that circled the sphere had enough
space for fifteen thousand workers and their families. The top of the
manufacturing sphere was festooned with half a dozen massive construction
waldoes that looked like they could rip a heavy freighter in half. The
bottom of the sphere had a bulbous projection fifty meters across, which
housed a capital -ship-class fusio n reactor and drive system, making Tycho
Station the largest mobile construction platform in the solar system. Each
compartment within the massive rings was built on a swivel system that
allowed the chambers to reorien t to thrust gravity when the rings stopped
spinning and the station flew to its next work location.
Holden knew all this, and his first sight of the station still took his
breath away . It wasnâ t just the size of it. It was the idea that four generations
of the smartest people in the solar system had been living and working here
as they helped drag humanity into the outer planets almost through sheer
force of will.
Amos said, âIt looks like a big bug.â
Holden started to protest, but it did resemble some kind of giant spider:
fat bulbous body and all its legs sprouting from the top of its head.
Alex said, âFor get the station, look at that monster .â
The vessel it was constructing dwarfed the station. Ladar returns told
Arrival at Tycho Station
- The crew of the Rocinante arrives at Tycho Station, a massive engineering hub that represents generations of human expansion into the outer planets.
- They observe the construction of the Nauvoo, a colossal generation ship commissioned by the Mormons for a century-long voyage to Tau Ceti.
- Amos identifies the Nauvoo's powerful communication array as the likely source of the high-powered tightbeam message that redirected their mission.
- Holden adopts a new defensive posture, insisting the crew carry sidearms as they prepare to meet the station's leader.
- The crew is greeted upon docking by Fred Johnson, the infamous figure known as the Butcher of Anderson Station.
The vessel it was constructing dwarfed the station. Round and stubby, it looked like a cigarette butt made of steel.
allowed the chambers to reorien t to thrust gravity when the rings stopped
spinning and the station flew to its next work location.
Holden knew all this, and his first sight of the station still took his
breath away . It wasnâ t just the size of it. It was the idea that four generations
of the smartest people in the solar system had been living and working here
as they helped drag humanity into the outer planets almost through sheer
force of will.
Amos said, âIt looks like a big bug.â
Holden started to protest, but it did resemble some kind of giant spider:
fat bulbous body and all its legs sprouting from the top of its head.
Alex said, âFor get the station, look at that monster .â
The vessel it was constructing dwarfed the station. Ladar returns told
Holden the ship was just over two kilometers long and half a kilometer
wide. Round and stubby , it looked like a cigarette butt made of steel.
Framework girders exposed internal compartments and machinery at
various stages of construction, but the engines looked complete, and the
hull had been assembled over the bow. The name Nauvoo was painted in
massive white letters across it.
âSo the Mormon s are going to ride that thing all the way to Tau Ceti,
huh?â Amos asked, following it up with a long whistle. âBallsy bastards.
No guarantee thereâ s even a planet worth a damn on the other end of that
hundred-year trip.â
âThey seem pretty sure,â Holden replied. âAnd you donât make the
money to build a ship like that by being stupid. I, for one, wish them
nothing but luck.â
âTheyâll get the stars,â Naomi said. âHow can you not envy them
that?â
âTheir great-grandkidsâll get maybe a star if they donât all starve to
death orbiting a rock they canât use,â Amos said. âLetâ s not get grandiose
here.â
He pointed at the impressively large comm array jutting from the
Nauvoo âs flank.
âWant to bet thatâs what threw our anus-sized tightbeam message?â
Amos said.
Alex nodded. âIf you want to send private messages home from a
couple light-years away , you need serious beam coherence. They probably
had the volume turned down to avoid cuttinâ a hole in us.â
Holden got up from the copilotâ s couch and pushed past Amos.
âAlex, see if theyâll let us land.â
Landing was surprisingly easy. The station control directed them to a
docking port on the side of the sphere and stayed on the line, guiding them
in, until Alex had married the docking tube to the airlock door. The tower
control never pointed out that they had a lot of armaments for a transport
and no tanks for carrying compressed gas. She got them docked, then
wished them a pleasant day .
Holden put on his atmosphere suit and made a quick trip to the cargo
bay, then met the others just inside the Rocinante âs inner airlock door with a
large duf fel.
âPut your suits on, thatâs now standard ops for this crew anytime we
go someplace new. And take one of these,â he said, pulling handguns and
cartridge magazines from the bag. âHide it in a pocket or your bag if you
like, but I will be wearing mine openly .â
Naomi frowned at him.
âSeems a bit⌠confrontational, doesnâ t it?â
âIâm tired of being kicked around,â Holden said. âThe Rociâs a good
start toward independence, and Iâm taking a little piece of her with me. Call
it a good luck charm.â
âFuckinâ A,â said Amos, and strapped one of the guns to his thigh.
Alex stuffed his into the pocket of his flight suit. Naomi wrinkled her
nose and waved off the last gun. Holden put it back into his duffel, led the
crew into the Rocinante âs airlock, and cycled it. An older , dark-skinned man
with a heavy build waited for them on the other side. As they came in, he
smiled.
âWelcome to Tycho Station,â said the Butcher of Anderson Station.
âCall me Fred.â
Chapter Eighteen
Miller
The death of the Donnager hit Ceres like a hammer striking a gong.
Newsfeeds clogged themselves with high-power telescopic footage of the
Loss of Fear and Illusions
- The crew of the Rocinante arrives at Tycho Station and is greeted by Fred Johnson, known as the Butcher of Anderson Station.
- The destruction of the Martian flagship Donnager has emboldened the Belt, replacing their long-standing fear with a dangerous sense of hope and revolutionary fervor.
- Detective Miller experiences a profound personal crisis, acknowledging his status as a functional alcoholic who has lost the respect of his peers.
- Despite his internal collapse and aural hallucinations, Miller attempts to maintain a semblance of professional duty by returning to work on Ceres.
The Canterbury had stripped away the complacency of the Belt, but the Donnager had done something worse. It had taken away the fear.
âFuckinâ A,â said Amos, and strapped one of the guns to his thigh.
Alex stuffed his into the pocket of his flight suit. Naomi wrinkled her
nose and waved off the last gun. Holden put it back into his duffel, led the
crew into the Rocinante âs airlock, and cycled it. An older , dark-skinned man
with a heavy build waited for them on the other side. As they came in, he
smiled.
âWelcome to Tycho Station,â said the Butcher of Anderson Station.
âCall me Fred.â
Chapter Eighteen
Miller
The death of the Donnager hit Ceres like a hammer striking a gong.
Newsfeeds clogged themselves with high-power telescopic footage of the
battle, most if not all of it faked. The Belt chatter swam with speculation
about a secret OPA fleet. The six ships that had taken down the Martian
flagship were hailed as heroes and martyrs. Slogans like We did it once and
we can do it again and Drop some rocks cropped up even in apparently
innocuous settings.
The Canterbury had stripped away the complacency of the Belt, but
the Donnager had done something worse. It had taken away the fear. The
Belters had gotten a sudden, decisive, and unexpected win. Anything
seemed possible, and the hope seduced them.
It would have scared Miller more if heâd been sober .
Miller âs alarm had been going off for the past ten minutes. The grating
buzz took on subtones and overtones when he listened to it long enough. A
constant rising tone, fluttering percussion throbbing under it, even soft
music hiding underneath the blare. Illusions. Aural hallucinations. The
voice of the whirlwind.
The previous nightâs bottle of fungal faux bourbon sat on the bedside
table where a carafe of water usually waited. It still had a couple fingers at
the botto m. Miller considered the soft brown of the liquid, thought about
how it would feel on his tongue.
The beautiful thing about losing your illusions, he thought, was that
you got to stop pretending. All the years heâd told himself that he was
respected, that he was good at his job, that all his sacrifices had been made
for a reason fell away and left him with the clear , unmuddied knowledge
that he was a functional alcohol ic who had pared away everyth ing good in
his own life to make room for anesthetic. Shaddid thought he was a joke.
Muss thought he was the price she paid not to sleep with someone she
didnâ t like. The only one who might have any respect for him at all was
Havelock, an Earther . It was peaceful, in its way. He could stop making the
effort to keep up appearances. If he stayed in bed listening to the alarm
drone, he was just living up to expectations. No shame in that.
And still there was work to be done. He reached over and turned off
the alarm. Just before it cut off, he heard a voice in it, soft but insistent. A
womanâ s voice. He didnâ t know what sheâd been saying. But since she was
just in his head, sheâd get another chance later .
He levered himself out of bed, sucked down some painkillers and
rehydration goo, stalked to the shower , and burned a day and a halfâs ration
of hot water just standing there, watching his legs get pink. He dressed in
his last set of clean clothes. Breakfast was a bar of pressed yeast and grape
sweetener . He dropped the bourbon from the bedside table into the recycler
without finishing it, just to prove to himself that he still could.
Muss was waiting at the desk. She looked up when he sat.
âStill waiting for the labs on the rape up on eighteen,â she said. âThey
promised them by lunch.â
âWeâll see,â Miller said.
âIâve got a possible witness. Girl who was with the vic earlier in the
evening. Her deposition said she left before anything happened, but the
security cameras arenâ t backing her up.â
âWant me in the questioning?â Miller asked.
âNot yet. But if I need some theater , Iâll pull you in.â
âFair enough.â
Miller didnâ t watch her walk away. After a long moment staring at
nothing, he pulled up his disk partition, reviewed what still needed doing,
Chasing the Ghost Ship
- Detective Miller returns to work after a period of personal neglect, attempting to regain his professional focus.
- He obsessively analyzes a claim by Dawes that James Holden and his crew survived the destruction of the Donnager.
- Miller calculates that a ship with an Epstein drive could have reached a major port like Ceres within three weeks of the incident.
- He begins the daunting task of cross-referencing thousands of ship arrivals across the Belt's busiest ports to find a hidden vessel.
Miller poked at the words like a tongue at the gap of a missing tooth.
rehydration goo, stalked to the shower , and burned a day and a halfâs ration
of hot water just standing there, watching his legs get pink. He dressed in
his last set of clean clothes. Breakfast was a bar of pressed yeast and grape
sweetener . He dropped the bourbon from the bedside table into the recycler
without finishing it, just to prove to himself that he still could.
Muss was waiting at the desk. She looked up when he sat.
âStill waiting for the labs on the rape up on eighteen,â she said. âThey
promised them by lunch.â
âWeâll see,â Miller said.
âIâve got a possible witness. Girl who was with the vic earlier in the
evening. Her deposition said she left before anything happened, but the
security cameras arenâ t backing her up.â
âWant me in the questioning?â Miller asked.
âNot yet. But if I need some theater , Iâll pull you in.â
âFair enough.â
Miller didnâ t watch her walk away. After a long moment staring at
nothing, he pulled up his disk partition, reviewed what still needed doing,
and started cleaning the place up.
As he worked, his mind repla yed for the millionth time the slow,
humiliating interview with Shaddid and Dawes. We have Holden, Dawes
said. You canât even find what happen ed to your own riot gear. Miller poked
at the words like a tongue at the gap of a missing tooth. It rang true. Again.
Still, it might have been bullshit. It might have been a story concocted
just to make him feel small. There wasnâ t any proof, after all, that Holden
and his crew had survived. What proof could there be? The Donnanger was
gone, and all its logs along with it. There would have to have been a ship
that made it out. Either a rescue vessel or one of the Martian escort ships.
There was no way a ship could have gotten out and not been the singular
darling of every newsfeed and pirate cast since. You couldnâ t keep
something like that quiet.
Or sure you could. It just would nât be easy. He squinted at the empty
air of the station house. Now . How would you cover up a surviving ship?
Miller pulled up a cheap navigation plotter heâd bought five years
beforeâtransit times had figured in a smuggling caseâand plotted the date
and position of the Donnager âs demi se. Anything running under non-
Epstein thrust would still have been out there, and Martian warships would
have either picked it up or blasted it into background radiation by now . So if
Dawes wasnât just handing him bullshit, that meant an Epstein drive. He ran
a couple quick calculations. With a good drive, someone could have made
Ceres in just less than a month. Call it three weeks to be safe.
He looked at the data for almost ten minutes, but the next step didnâ t
come to him, so he stepped away , got some coffee, and pulled up the
interview he and Muss had done with a Belter ground-crew grunt. The
manâ s face was long and cadave rous and subtly cruel. The recorder hadnâ t
had a good fix on him, so the picture kept bouncing around. Muss asked the
man what heâd seen, and Miller leaned forward to read the transcribed
answers, checking for incorrectly recognized words. Thirty seconds later,
the grunt said clip whor e and the transcri pt read clipper . Miller corrected it,
but the back of his mind kept churning.
Probably eight or nine hundred ships came into Ceres in a given day.
Call it a thousand to be safe. Give it a couple days on either side of the
three-week mark , that was only four thousand entries. Pain in the ass, sure,
but not impossible. Ganymede would be the other real bitch. With its
agriculture, there would be hundreds of transports a day there. Still, it
wouldnâ t doubl e the workload. Eros. Tycho. Pallas. How many ships
docked on Pallas every day?
Heâd missed almost two minutes of the recording. He started again,
forcing himself to pay attention this time, and half an hour later , he gave up.
The ten busiest ports with two days to either side of an estimated
arrival of an Epstein-drive ship that originated when and where the
The Logistics of a Ghost Ship
- Miller attempts to track a specific Epstein-drive ship by filtering through tens of thousands of docking records across major ports like Ganymede and Pallas.
- By excluding Martian military sites and local torch-drive traffic, he reduces the search to a manageable but still daunting four thousand potential leads.
- To avoid internal surveillance from his superior, Miller masks his data requests by attaching them to various cold cases and public record inquiries.
- A lab technician confirms a DNA match in a separate rape case, leading Miller to secure an arrest warrant for a high-profile accountant.
- Miller uses the newly issued warrant as a pretext to leave the station and head toward the upscale governmental quarter of Ceres.
Never knew if you had any luck left unless you pushed it. Besides, there wasnâ t a lot to lose.
but not impossible. Ganymede would be the other real bitch. With its
agriculture, there would be hundreds of transports a day there. Still, it
wouldnâ t doubl e the workload. Eros. Tycho. Pallas. How many ships
docked on Pallas every day?
Heâd missed almost two minutes of the recording. He started again,
forcing himself to pay attention this time, and half an hour later , he gave up.
The ten busiest ports with two days to either side of an estimated
arrival of an Epstein-drive ship that originated when and where the
Donnager died totaled twenty-eight thousand docking records, more or less.
But he could cut that down to seventeen thousand if he excluded stations
and ports explic itly run by Mart ian military and research stations with all or
nearly all inner planets inhabitan ts. So how long would it take him to check
all the porting records by hand, pretending for a minute that he was stupid
enough to do it? Call it 118 daysâif he didnâ t eat or sleep. Just working
ten-hour days, doing nothing else, he could almost get throug h it in less
than a year . A little less.
Except no. Beca use there were ways to narrow it. He was only looking
for Epstein drive ships. Most of the traffic at any of the ports would be
local. Torch drive ships flown by prospectors and short-hop couriers. The
economics of spaceflight made relatively few and relatively large ships the
right answer for long flights. So take it down by, conservatively , three-
quarters, and he was back in the close-to-four -thousand range again. Still
hundreds of hours of work, but if he could think of some other filter that
would just feed him the likely suspects⌠For instance, if the ship couldnâ t
have filed a flight plan before the Donnager got killed.
The request interface for the port logs was ancient, uncomfortable, and
subtly different from Eros to Ganymede to Pallas and on and on. Miller
tacked the information request s on to seven different cases, including a
month-old cold case on which he was only a consultant. Port logs were
public and open , so he didnâ t particularly need his detective status to hide
his actions. With any luck Shaddidâ s monitoring of him wouldnâ t extend to
low-level, public -record poking around. And even if it did, he might get the
replies before she caught on.
Never knew if you had any luck left unless you pushed it. Besides,
there wasnâ t a lot to lose.
When the connection from the lab opened on his terminal, he almost
jumped. The technician was a gray-haired woman with an unnaturally
young face.
âMiller? Muss with you?â
âNope,â Miller said. âSheâ s got an interrogation.â
He was pretty sure that was what sheâd said. The tech shrugged.
âWell, her systemâ s not answering. I wanted to tell you we got a match
off the rape you sent us. It wasnâ t the boyfriend. Her boss did it.â
Miller nodded. âY ou put in for the warrant?â he asked.
âYep,â she said. âItâ s already in the file.â
Miller pulled it up: STAR HEL IX ON BEHALF OF CERES STATION AUTHORIZES
AND MANDA TES THE DETENTION OF IMMANUEL COR VUS DOWD PENDING
ADJUDICA TION OF SECURITY INCIDENT CCS-4949231. The judgeâ s digital
signature was listed in green. He felt a slow smile on his lips.
âThanks,â he said.
On the way out of the station, one of the vice squads asked him where
he was headed. He said lunch.
The Arranha Accountancy Group had their offices in the nice part of
the governmenta l quarter in sector seven. It wasnâ t Miller âs usual stomping
grounds, but the warrant was good on the whole station. Miller went to the
secretary at the front deskâa good-looking Belter with a starburst pattern
embroidered on his vestâand explained that he needed to speak with
The Fall of Ceres
- Detective Miller executes a high-profile arrest of Immanuel Corvus Dowd at a prestigious accountancy firm despite legal threats from Dowd's lawyer.
- Miller displays a cynical and aggressive demeanor during the arrest, openly hoping for the suspect to resist so he can use force.
- A mysterious woman at the scene acknowledges Miller with a silent nod of gratitude, suggesting the arrest has implications beyond the immediate case.
- The political landscape of the station shifts violently as Captain Shaddid announces that the United Nations is withdrawing oversight of Ceres.
- The sudden withdrawal of Earth's protection leaves the Star Helix security force in a state of uncertainty under a new provisional government.
Five hours later, the government of Ceres collapsed.
signature was listed in green. He felt a slow smile on his lips.
âThanks,â he said.
On the way out of the station, one of the vice squads asked him where
he was headed. He said lunch.
The Arranha Accountancy Group had their offices in the nice part of
the governmenta l quarter in sector seven. It wasnâ t Miller âs usual stomping
grounds, but the warrant was good on the whole station. Miller went to the
secretary at the front deskâa good-looking Belter with a starburst pattern
embroidered on his vestâand explained that he needed to speak with
Immanuel Corvu s Dowd. The secretaryâ s deep-brown skin took on an ashy
tone. Miller stood back, not blocking the exit, but keeping close.
Twenty minutes later, an older man in a good suit came throu gh the
front door , stopped in front of Miller , and looked him up and down.
âDetective Miller?â the man said.
âYouâd be Dowdâ s lawyer ,â Miller said cheerfully .
âI am, and I would like toââ
âReally ,â Miller said. âW e should do this now .â
The office was clean and spare with light blue walls that lit themselves
from within. Dowd sat at the table. He was young enough that he still
looked arrogant, but old enough to be scared. Miller nodded to him.
âYouâre Immanuel Corvus Dowd?â he said.
âBefore you continue, Detecti ve,â the lawyer said, âmy client is
involved with very high-level negotiations. His client base includes some of
the most important people in the war effort. Before you make any
accusations, you should be aware that I can and will have everything youâve
done reviewed, and if there is one mistake, you will be held responsible.â
âMr. Dowd,â Miller said. âWhat I am about to do to you is literally the
only bright spot in my day. If you could see your way clear to resisting
arrest, Iâd really appreciate it.â
âHarry?â Dowd said, looking to his lawyer . His voice cracked a little.
The lawyer shook his head.
Back at the police cart, Miller took a long moment. Dowd, handcuf fed
in the back, where everyone walking by could see him, was silent. Miller
pulled up his hand terminal, noted the time of arrest, the objections of the
lawyer , and a few other minor comments. A young woman in professional
dress of cream-c olored linen hesitated at the door of the accountancy . Miller
didnâ t recognize her; she was no one involved with the rape case, or at least
not the one he was working. Her face had the expressionless calm of a
fighter . He turned, craning his neck to look at Dowd, humiliated and not
looking back. The woman shifted her gaze to Miller . She nodded once.
Thank you.
He nodded back. Just doing my job.
She went through the door .
Two hours later, Miller finishe d the last of the paperwork and sent
Dowd of f to the cells.
Three and a half hours later, the first of his docking log request s came
in.
Five hours later , the government of Ceres collapsed.
Despite being full, the station house was silent. Detectives and junior
investigators, patrolmen and desk workers, the high and the low, they all
gathered before Shaddid. She stood at her podium, her hair pulled back
tight. She wore her Star Helix uniform, but the insignia had been removed.
Her voice was shaky .
âYouâve all heard this by now, but starting now, itâs official. The
United Nations, responding to requests from Mars, is withdrawing from its
oversight and⌠protection of Ceres Station. This is a peacefu l transition.
This is not a coup. Iâm going to say that again. This isnât a coup. Earth is
pulling out of here, we arenâ t pushing.â
âThatâ s bullshit, sir ,â someone shouted. Shaddid raised her hand.
âThereâ s a lot of loose talk,â Shaddid said. âI donât want to hear any of
it from you. The governor âs going to make the formal announcement at the
start of the next shift, and weâll get more details then. Until we hear
otherwise, the Star Helix contract is still in place. A provisional government
is being formed with membe rs drawn from local business and union
The Abandonment of Ceres
- Earth announces a sudden withdrawal from Ceres Station, leaving a power vacuum to be filled by a provisional local government.
- Captain Shaddid attempts to maintain order among the Star Helix police force despite the uncertainty of their future pay and authority.
- Miller realizes that the departure of Earth likely signals an impending conflict between Mars and the OPA, potentially turning Ceres into a battlefield.
- The police force exhibits a manic, panicked energy as they realize they are the only barrier between six million residents and total anarchy.
- Miller questions what secret information or events could be significant enough to make Earth abandon its most valuable port in the Belt.
The stone was alive, and heâd forgotten the small signs that proved it.
oversight and⌠protection of Ceres Station. This is a peacefu l transition.
This is not a coup. Iâm going to say that again. This isnât a coup. Earth is
pulling out of here, we arenâ t pushing.â
âThatâ s bullshit, sir ,â someone shouted. Shaddid raised her hand.
âThereâ s a lot of loose talk,â Shaddid said. âI donât want to hear any of
it from you. The governor âs going to make the formal announcement at the
start of the next shift, and weâll get more details then. Until we hear
otherwise, the Star Helix contract is still in place. A provisional government
is being formed with membe rs drawn from local business and union
representation. We are still the law on Ceres, and I expect you to behave
appropriately . You will all be here for your shifts. You will be here on time.
You will act professionally and within the scope of standard practice.â
Miller looked over at Muss. His partner âs hair was still unkempt from
the pillow . It was pushing midnight for them both.
âAny questions?â Shaddid said in a voice that implied there ought not
be.
Whoâ s going to pay Star Helix ? Miller thought. What laws are we
enfor cing? What does Earth know that makes walking away from the
biggest port in the Belt the smart move?
Whoâ s going to negotiate your peace tr eaty now?
Muss, seeing Miller âs gaze, smiled.
âGuess weâre hosed,â Miller said.
âHad to happen,â Muss agreed. âI better go. Got a stop to make.â
âUp at the core?â
Muss didnât answer , because she didnâ t have to. Ceres didnâ t have
laws. It had police. Miller headed back to his hole. The station hummed, the
stone beneath him vibrating from the countless docking clamps and reactor
cores, tubes and recyclers and pneumatics. The stone was alive, and heâd
forgotten the small signs that proved it. Six million people lived here,
breathed this air. Fewer than in a middle-sized city on Earth. He wondered
if they were expendable.
Had it really gone so far that the inner planets would be willing to lose
a major station? It seemed like it had if Earth was abandoning Ceres. The
OPA would step in, whether it wanted to or not. The power vacuum was too
great. Then Mars would call it an OPA coup. Then⌠Then what? Board it
and put it under martial law? That was the good answer . Nuke it into dust?
He couldnâ t quite bring himself to believe that either . There was just too
much money involved. Dockin g fees alone would fuel a small national
economy . And Shaddid and Dawesâmuch as he hated itâwere right.
Ceres under Earth contract had been the best hope for a negotiated peace.
Was there someone on Earth who didnâ t want that peace? Someone or
something powerful enough to move the glacial bureaucracy of the United
Nations to take action?
âWhat am I looking at, Julie?â he said to the empty air. âWhat did you
see out there thatâ s worth Mars and the Belt killing each other?â
The station hummed to itself, a quiet, constant sound too soft for him
to hear the voices within it.
Muss didnâ t come to work in the morning, but there was a message on his
system telling him sheâd be in late. âCleanupâ was her only explanation.
To look at it, nothing about the station house had changed. The same
people coming to the same place to do the same thing. No, that wasnâ t true.
The energy was high. People were smiling, laughing, clowning around. It
was a manic high, panic pressed through a cheesecloth mask of normalcy . It
wasnâ t going to last.
They were all that separated Ceres from anarchy . They were the law,
and the differenc e between the survival of six million people and some mad
bastard forcing open all the airlocks or poisoning the recyclers rested on
maybe thirty thousand people. People like him. Maybe he should have
rallied, risen to the occasion like the rest of them. The truth was the thought
made him tired.
Shaddid marched by and tapped him on the shoulder . He sighed, rose
from his chair , and followed her. Dawes was in her office again, looking
Dismissals and Safe Harbors
- Miller is fired from the Ceres police force by Shaddid, who admits that while he isn't a bad person, she can no longer trust him during the station's crisis.
- Holden and his crew arrive at Tycho Station and are greeted warmly by Fred Johnson, marking a rare moment of safety for the group.
- Fred explains that Tycho Station's security is maintained through massive political bribes to Earth and Mars rather than just military force.
- The crew experiences the transition from null gravity to rotational gravity as they enter the station's luxurious living quarters.
- The contrast between the crew's backgrounds is highlighted by the station's faux-wood decor, which reminds Holden of his privileged upbringing on Earth.
This is literally the first time in over a month that Iâve gotten off a ship without it blowing up behind me.
was a manic high, panic pressed through a cheesecloth mask of normalcy . It
wasnâ t going to last.
They were all that separated Ceres from anarchy . They were the law,
and the differenc e between the survival of six million people and some mad
bastard forcing open all the airlocks or poisoning the recyclers rested on
maybe thirty thousand people. People like him. Maybe he should have
rallied, risen to the occasion like the rest of them. The truth was the thought
made him tired.
Shaddid marched by and tapped him on the shoulder . He sighed, rose
from his chair , and followed her. Dawes was in her office again, looking
shaken and sleep deprived. Miller nodded to him. Shaddid crossed her
arms, her eyes softer and less accusing than heâd become used to.
âThis is going to be tough,â she said. âWeâre facing something harder
than anything weâve had to do before. I need a team I can trust with my life.
Extraordinary circumstances. Y ou understand that?â
âYeah,â he said. âI got it. Iâll stop drinking, get myself together .â
âMiller . Youâre not a bad person at heart. There was a time you were a
pretty good cop. But I donât trust you, and we donât have time to start over,â
Shaddid said, her voice as near to gentle as he had ever heard it. âYouâre
fired.â
Chapter Nineteen
Holden
Fred stood alone, hand outstretched, a warm and open smile on his broad
face. There were no guards with assault rifles behind him. Holden shook
Fredâ s hand and then started laughing. Fred smiled and looked confused but
let Hold en keep a grip on his hand, waiting for Holden to expla in what was
so funny .
âIâm sorry, but you have no idea how pleasant this is,â Holde n said.
âThis is literally the first time in over a month that Iâve gotten off a ship
without it blowing up behind me.â
Fred laughed with him now, an honest laugh that seemed to originate
somewhere in his belly .
After a moment the man said, âYouâre quite safe here. We are the most
protected station in the outer planets.â
âBecause youâre OP A?â Holden asked.
Fred shook his head.
âNo. We make campaign contributions to Earth and Mars politicians in
amounts that would make a Hilton blush,â he said. âIf anyone blows us up,
half the UN assembly and all of the Martian Congress will be howling for
blood. Itâs the problem with politics. Your enemies are often your allies.
And vice versa.â
Fred gestured to a doorway behind him and motioned for everyone to
follow . The ride was short, but halfway through, gravity reappeared,
shifting in a disorienting swoop. Holden stumbled. Fred looked chagrined.
âIâm sorry. I should have warned you about that. The central hubâs null
g. Moving into the ringâ s rotational gravity can be awkward the first time.â
âIâm fine,â Holden said. Naomiâ s brief smile might only have been his
imagination.
A mome nt later the elevator door opened onto a wide carpeted corridor
with walls of pale green. It had the reassuring smell of air scrubbers and
fresh carpet glue. Holden wouldnâ t have been surprised to find they were
piping ânew space stationâ scent into the air. The doors that led off the
corridor were made of faux wood distinguishable from the real thing only
because nobody had that much money . Of all his crew , Holden was almost
certainly the only one who had grown up in a house with real wooden
furniture and fixtures. Amos had grown up in Baltimore. They hadnâ t seen a
tree there in more than a century .
Holden pulled off his helmet and turned around to tell his crew to do
the same, but theirs were already off. Amos looked up and down the
corridor and whistled.
âNice digs, Fred,â he said.
âFollow me, Iâll get you settled in,â Fred replied, leading them down
the corridor . As he walked, he spoke. âTycho Station has under gone a
number of refurbishments over the last hundred years, as you might guess,
but the basics havenât changed much. It was a brilliant design to begin with;
Arrival at Tycho Station
- Holden and his crew arrive at Tycho Station, a massive engineering marvel that costs eleven million dollars a day to operate.
- Fred Johnson leads the group through the station, highlighting its history and the imminent completion of the generation ship Nauvoo.
- Holden confronts Fred, refusing to settle in until he understands why Fred is taking the risk of harboring high-profile refugees.
- Fred attempts to build trust by allowing the crew to remain armed and providing them with a luxury residential suite.
- The tension between the crew's survival instincts and Fred's political maneuvering sets the stage for their uneasy alliance.
So either tell us why youâre taking the risk of putting us up, or we go get back on our ship and try our hand at piracy.
because nobody had that much money . Of all his crew , Holden was almost
certainly the only one who had grown up in a house with real wooden
furniture and fixtures. Amos had grown up in Baltimore. They hadnâ t seen a
tree there in more than a century .
Holden pulled off his helmet and turned around to tell his crew to do
the same, but theirs were already off. Amos looked up and down the
corridor and whistled.
âNice digs, Fred,â he said.
âFollow me, Iâll get you settled in,â Fred replied, leading them down
the corridor . As he walked, he spoke. âTycho Station has under gone a
number of refurbishments over the last hundred years, as you might guess,
but the basics havenât changed much. It was a brilliant design to begin with;
Malthus Tycho was an engineer ing genius. His grandson, Bredon, runs the
company now. He isnât on station at the moment. Down the well at Luna
negotiating the next big deal.â
Holden said, âSeems like you have a lot on your plate alread y, with
that monster parked outside. And, you know , a war going on.â
A group of people in jumpsuits of various colors walked past, talking
animatedly . The corridor was so wide that no one had to give way. Fred
gestured at them as they went by .
âFirst shiftâs just ending, so this is rush hour,â he said. âItâs actually
time to start drumming up new work. The Nauvoo is almost done. Theyâll
be loadi ng colonists on her in six months. Always have to have the next
project lined up. The Tycho spends eleven million UN dollars every day
sheâs in operation, whether we make money that day or not. Itâs a big nut to
cover . And the war⌠well, weâre hoping thatâ s temporary .â
âAnd now youâre taking in refugees. That wonâ t help,â Holden said.
Fred just laughed and said, âFour more people wonâ t put us in the
poorhouse anytime soon.â
Holden stopped, forcing the others to pull up short behind him. It was
several steps before Fred noticed, then turned around with a confused look.
âYouâre dodging,â Holden said. âOther than a couple billion dollarsâ
worth of stolen Martian wars hip, we havenâ t got anything of value.
Everyone thinks weâre dead. Any access of our accounts ruins that, and I
just donât live in a universe where Daddy Warbucks swoops in and makes
everything okay out of the goodness of his heart. So either tell us why
youâre taking the risk of putting us up, or we go get back on our ship and
try our hand at piracy .â
âScour ge of the Martian mercha nt fleet, theyâll call us,â Amos growled
from somewhere behind him. He sounded pleased.
Fred held up his hands. There was a hardness in his eyes, but also an
amused respect.
âNothing underh anded, you have my word,â he said. âYouâre armed,
and station security will allow you to carry guns whenever you like. That
alone should reassure you that Iâm not planning foul play. But let me get
you settled in before we do much more talking, okay?â
Holden didnâ t move. Another group of returning workers was going by
in the corridor , and they watc hed the scene curiously as they passed.
Someone from the knot of people called out, âEverything okay , Fred?â
Fred nodded and waved them by impatiently . âLetâ s get out of the
corridor at least.â
âWe arenâ t unpacking until we get some answers,â Holden replied.
âFine. Weâre almost there,â Fred said, and then led them off again at a
somewhat faster pace. He stopped at a small inset in the corrido r wall with
two doors in it. Opening one with the swipe of a card, he led the four of
them into a large residential suite with a roomy living space and lots of
seating.
âBathroom is that door back there on the left. The bedroom is the one
on the right. Thereâs even a small kitchen space over here,â Fred said,
pointing to each thing as he spoke.
Holden sat down in a large brown faux-leather recliner and leaned it
The Third Alternative
- Fred Johnson settles Holdenâs crew into a luxurious residential suite on Tycho Station to begin formal negotiations.
- Fred warns that a full-scale war between the Belt and Mars would lead to mutual annihilation through the use of asteroid bombardment.
- He highlights the structural vulnerability of space stations, noting they are unable to evade incoming missiles compared to mobile ships.
- To avoid a 'molten sea' scenario on Mars or the destruction of the Belt, Fred proposes a criminal trial as a civilized alternative to war.
- The crew reacts with skepticism and derision at the idea of bringing the perpetrators of the Canterbury and Donnager attacks to justice through a legal system.
Einstein was right. We will be fighting the next war with rocks. But the Belt has rocks that will turn the surface of Mars into a molten sea.
âWe arenâ t unpacking until we get some answers,â Holden replied.
âFine. Weâre almost there,â Fred said, and then led them off again at a
somewhat faster pace. He stopped at a small inset in the corrido r wall with
two doors in it. Opening one with the swipe of a card, he led the four of
them into a large residential suite with a roomy living space and lots of
seating.
âBathroom is that door back there on the left. The bedroom is the one
on the right. Thereâs even a small kitchen space over here,â Fred said,
pointing to each thing as he spoke.
Holden sat down in a large brown faux-leather recliner and leaned it
back. A remote control was in a pocket of the armrest. He assumed it
controlled the impressively large screen that took up most of one wall.
Naomi and Amos sat on a couc h that matched his chair , and Alex draped
himself over a loveseat in a nice contrasting cream color .
âComfortable?â Fred asked, pulling a chair away from the six-seat
dining area and sitting down across from Holden.
âItâs all right,â Holden said defensively . âMy ship has a really nice
coffeemaker .â
âI suppose bribes wonâ t work. You are all comfortable, though? We
have two suites set aside for you, both this basic layout, though the other
suite has two rooms. I wasnâ t sure of the, ah, sleeping arran gementsâŚâ
Fred trailed of f uncomfortably .
âDonâ t worry , Boss, you can bunk with me,â Amos said with a wink at
Naomi.
Naomi just smiled faintly .
âOkay , Fred, weâre off the street ,â she said. âNow answer the captainâ s
questions.â
Fred nodded, then stood up and cleared his throat. He seemed to
review something. When he spoke, the conversational facade was gone. His
voice carried a grim authority .
âWar between the Belt and Mars is suicide. Even if every rock hopper
in the Belt were armed, we still couldnâ t compete with the Martian navy .
We migh t kill a few with tricks and suicide runs. Mars might feel forced to
nuke one of our stations to prove a point. But we can strap chemical rockets
onto a couple hundred rocks the size of bunk beds and rain Armageddon
down on Martian dome cities.â
Fred paused, as if looking for words, then sat back down on his chair .
âAll of the war drums ignore that. Itâs the elephant in the room.
Anyone who doesnâ t live on a spaceship is structurally vulnerable. Tycho,
Eros, Pallas, Ceres. Stations canât evade incoming missiles. And with all of
the enem yâs citizens living at the bottom of huge gravity wells, we donât
even have to aim particularly well. Einstein was right. We will be fighting
the next war with rocks. But the Belt has rocks that will turn the surface of
Mars into a molten sea.
âRight now everyone is still playing nice, and only shooting at ships.
Very gentlemanly . But sooner or later, one side or the other will be pressed
to do something desperate.â
Holden leaned forward, the slick surface of his environment suit
making an embarrassing squea k on the leather textured chair . No one
laughed.
âI agree. What does that have to do with us?â he asked.
âToo much blood has already been shed,â Fred said.
Shed.
Holden winced at the bleak, unintentional pun but said nothing.
âThe Canterbury ,â Fred continued. âThe Donnager . People arenâ t just
going to for get about those ships, and those thousands of innocent people.â
âSeems like you just crossed off the only two options, Chief,â Alex
said. âNo war , no peace.â
âThereâ s a third alternative. Civilized society has another way of
dealing with things like this,â Fred said. âA criminal trial.â
Amosâ snort shook the air . Holden had to fight not to smile himself.
âAre you fucking serious?â Amos asked. âAnd how do you put a
goddamn Martia n stealth ship on trial? Do we go question all the stealth
ships about their whereabouts, double-check their alibis?â
The Third Alternative
- Fred Johnson proposes treating the destruction of the Canterbury as a criminal act rather than an act of war to prevent total systemic collapse.
- The crew of the Rocinante are identified as the only eyewitnesses whose depositions can provide Fred the political leverage needed to negotiate new treaties.
- Holden accepts Fred's offer of protection and shelter, finding the OPA leader's self-serving political motives believable and pragmatic.
- The crew attempts to decompress on Tycho Station, with Naomi performing punk karaoke while Amos and Alex seek their own forms of distraction.
- Despite the gravity of their situation, the survivors find moments of normalcy and dark humor in the station's bars.
âAnd how do you put a goddamn Martian stealth ship on trial? Do we go question all the stealth ships about their whereabouts, double-check their alibis?â
going to for get about those ships, and those thousands of innocent people.â
âSeems like you just crossed off the only two options, Chief,â Alex
said. âNo war , no peace.â
âThereâ s a third alternative. Civilized society has another way of
dealing with things like this,â Fred said. âA criminal trial.â
Amosâ snort shook the air . Holden had to fight not to smile himself.
âAre you fucking serious?â Amos asked. âAnd how do you put a
goddamn Martia n stealth ship on trial? Do we go question all the stealth
ships about their whereabouts, double-check their alibis?â
Fred held up a hand.
âStop thinking of the Canterbury âs destruction as an act of war,â he
said. âIt was a crime. Right now, people are overreacting, but once the
situation sinks in, heads will cool. People on both sides will see where this
road goes and look for another way out. There is a window where the saner
elements can investigate events, negotiate jurisdiction, and assign blame to
some party or parties that both sides can agree to. A trial. Itâs the only
outcome that doesnâ t involve millions of deaths and the collapse of human
infrastucture.â
Holden shrugge d, a gesture barely visible in his heavy enviro nment
suit.
âSo it goes to a trial. Y ou still arenâ t answering my question.â
Fred pointed at Holden, then at each of the crew in turn.
âYouâre the ace in the hole. You four people are the only eyewitnesses
to the destruction of both ships. When the trial comes, I need you and your
depositions. I have influence already through our political contacts, but you
can buy me a seat at the table. It will be a whole new set of treaties between
the Belt and the inner planets. We can do in months what Iâd dreamed of
doing in decades.â
âAnd you want to use our value as witnesses to force your way into the
process so you can make those treaties look the way you want them to,â
Holden said.
âYes. And Iâm willing to give you protection, shelter , and run of my
station for as long as it takes to get there.â
Holden took a long, deep breath, got up, and started unzipping his suit.
âYeah, okay . Thatâ s just self-s erving enough I believe it,â he said.
âLetâ s get settled in.â
Naomi was singing karaoke. Just thinking about it made Holdenâ s head
spin. Naomi. Karaoke. Even considering everything that had happened to
them over the past month, Naomi up onstage with a mic in one hand and
some sort of fuchsia martini in the other , screaming out an angry Belt-punk
anthem by the Moldy Filters, was the strangest thing heâd ever seen. She
finished to scattered applause and a few catcalls, then stagge red off the
stage and collapsed across from him in the booth.
She held up her drink, sloshing a good half of it onto the table, then
threw the other half back all at once.
âWhadja think?â Naomi asked, waving at the bartender for another .
âIt was terrible,â Holden replied.
âNo, really .â
âIt was truly one of the most awful renditions of one of the most awful
songs Iâve ever heard.â
Naomi shook her head, blowing an exasperated raspberry at him. Her
dark hair fell across her face and, when the bartender brought her a second
brightly colored martini, foiled all her attempts at drinking. She finally
grabbed her hair and held it above her head in a clump while she drank.
âYou donât get it,â she said. âItâs supposed to be awful. Thatâ s the
point.â
âThen it was the best version of that song Iâve ever heard,â Holden
said.
âDamn straight.â Naomi looked around the bar. âWhereâre Amos and
Alex?â
âAmos found what Iâm pretty sure was the most expensive hooker Iâve
ever seen. Alex is in the back playing darts. He made some claim s about the
superiority of Martian darts players. I assume theyâre going to kill him and
throw him out an airlock.â
A second singer was onstage, crooning out some sort of Vietnamese
power ballad. Naomi watched the singer for a while, sipping her drink, then
said, âMaybe we should go save him.â
âWhich one?â
Ghosts and Rescue Fuel
- Holden and Naomi navigate the emotional aftermath of their recent trauma while drinking at a bar on Tycho Station.
- Naomi rejects Holden's attempt to comfort her, choosing to drown her grief in karaoke and alcohol rather than rest.
- Holden wanders the station alone, feeling like a foreigner among the Belters and haunted by the memories of his lost crewmates.
- Seeking solace, Holden returns to the silent Rocinante, finding that the ship is the only place that truly feels like home.
He gave a little wave, then headed out the door with only ghostsâAde, Captain McDowell, Gomez and Kelly and Shedâto keep him company.
âDamn straight.â Naomi looked around the bar. âWhereâre Amos and
Alex?â
âAmos found what Iâm pretty sure was the most expensive hooker Iâve
ever seen. Alex is in the back playing darts. He made some claim s about the
superiority of Martian darts players. I assume theyâre going to kill him and
throw him out an airlock.â
A second singer was onstage, crooning out some sort of Vietnamese
power ballad. Naomi watched the singer for a while, sipping her drink, then
said, âMaybe we should go save him.â
âWhich one?â
âAlex. Why would Amos need saving?â
âBecause Iâm pretty sure he told the expensive hooker he was on
Fredâ s expense account.â
âLetâ s mount a rescue mission; we can save them both,â Naom i said,
then drank the rest of her cocktail. âI need more rescue fuel, though.â
She started waving at the barten der again, but Holden reached out and
grabbed her hand and held it on the table.
âMaybe we should take a breather instead,â he said.
A flush of anger as intense as it was brief lit her face. She pulle d back
her hand.
âYou take a breather . Iâve just had two ships and a bunch of friends
shot out from underneath me, and spent three weeks of dead time flying to
get here. So, no. Iâm getting another drink, and then doing another set. The
crowd loves me,â Naomi said.
âWhat about our rescue mission?â
âLost cause. Amos will be murdered by space hookers, but at least
heâll die the way he lived.â
Naomi pushed her way up from the table, grabbed her martini off the
bar, and headed toward the karaoke stage. Holden watched her go, then
finished of f the scotch heâd been nursing for the past two hours and got up.
For a moment there, heâd had a vision of the two of them staggering
back to the room together , then falling into bed. Heâd have hated himself in
the morning for taking advantage, but heâd still have done it. Naomi was
looking at him from the stage, and he realized heâd been staring. He gave a
little wave, then headed out the door with only ghostsâAde, Captain
McDowell, Gomez and Kelly and Shedâto keep him company .
The suite was comfortable and huge and depressing. Heâd lain on the bed
less than five minutes before he was up and out the door again. He walked
the corridor for half an hour, finding the big intersections that led to other
parts of the ring. He found an electronics store and a teahouse and what on
closer inspection turned out to be a very expensive brothel. He declined the
video menu of services the desk clerk offered and wandered out again,
wondering if Amos was somewhere inside.
He was halfway down a corridor he hadnâ t seen before when a small
knot of teenage girls passed him. Their faces looked no older than fourteen,
but they were already as tall as he was. They got quiet as he walked by, then
burst out laughing when he was behind them, and hurried away . Tycho was
a city, and he suddenly felt very much like a foreigner , unsure of where to
go or what to do.
It was no surpris e to him when he looked up from his wanderin gs and
discovered heâd come to the elevator to the docking area. He punched the
button and climbed inside, remembering to turn on his boot mags just in
time to avoid being flung off his feet when the gravity twisted sideways and
vanished.
Even though heâd only had possession of the ship for three weeks,
climbing back onto the Rocinante felt like going home. Using gentle
touches on the keel ladder , he made his way up to the cockpit. He pulled
himself into the copilotâ s couch, strapped in, and closed his eyes.
The ship was silent. With the reactor off-line, and no one aboard,
nothing was moving at all. The flexible docking tube that connected the
Roci to the station transmitted very little vibration to the ship. Holde n could
close his eyes and drift in the straps and disconnect from everything around
him.
It would have been peaceful except that every time heâd closed his
Ghosts and Unmoored Stations
- Holden struggles with the psychological trauma of his lost crew, finding that silence only invites haunting memories of Ade and McDowell.
- The quiet of the Rocinante leads Holden to realize that veteran sailors might prefer constant noise as a way to drown out the ghosts of their past.
- Driven by grief, Holden finds temporary solace in violent fantasies of vengeance against the unknown crew of the stealth ship.
- On Ceres Station, Miller observes a shift in the political atmosphere, noting that the station has lost its 'ephemeral shield' of status.
- Miller watches young OPA recruits, reflecting on the universal delusion of youth that grants them a sense of immortality despite the harsh realities of life in the Belt.
It would have been peaceful except that every time heâd closed his eyes for the past month, the fading ghost lights behind his eyelids had been Ade winking and blowing away like dust.
touches on the keel ladder , he made his way up to the cockpit. He pulled
himself into the copilotâ s couch, strapped in, and closed his eyes.
The ship was silent. With the reactor off-line, and no one aboard,
nothing was moving at all. The flexible docking tube that connected the
Roci to the station transmitted very little vibration to the ship. Holde n could
close his eyes and drift in the straps and disconnect from everything around
him.
It would have been peaceful except that every time heâd closed his
eyes for the past month, the fading ghost lights behind his eyeli ds had been
Ade winking and blowing away like dust. The voice at the back of his head
was McD owellâ s as he tried to save his ship right up to the very last second.
He wondered if heâd have them for the rest of his life, coming out to haunt
him every time he found a moment of quiet.
He reme mbered the old-timers from his navy days. Grizzled lifers who
could soundly sleep while two meters away their shipmates played a
raucous game of poker or watch ed the vids with the volume all the way up.
Back then heâd assumed it was just learned behavior , the body adapting so
it could get enou gh rest in an environment that never really had downtime.
Now he wonder ed if those vets found the constant noise prefera ble. A way
to keep their lost shipmates away . They probably went home after their
twenty and never slept again. He opened his eyes and watched a small
green telltale blink on the pilotâ s console.
It was the only light in the room, and it illuminated nothing. But its
slow fade in and out was some how comforting. A quiet heartbeat for the
ship.
He told himself that Fred was right; a trial was the right thing to hope
for. But he wanted that stealth ship in Alexâ s gun sights. He wanted that
unknown crew to live throug h the terrifying moment when all the
countermeasures have failed, the torpedoes are seconds from impact, and
absolutely nothing can stop them.
He wanted them to have that same last gasp of fear heâd heard through
Adeâ s mic.
For a time, he displaced the ghosts in his head with violent vengeance
fantasies. When they stopped working, he floated down to the personnel
deck, strapped into his cot, and tried to sleep. The Rocinante sang him a
lullaby of air recyclers and silence.
Chapter T wenty
Miller
Miller sat at an open cafĂŠ, the tunnel wide above him. Grass grew tall and
pale in the public commons, and the ceiling glowed full-spectrum white.
Ceres Station had come unmoored. Orbital mechanics and inertia kept it
physically wher e it had always been, but the stories about it had changed.
The point defen ses were the same. The tensile strength of the port blast
doors was the same. The ephemeral shield of political status was all theyâd
lost, and it was everything.
Miller leaned forward and sipped his cof fee.
There were children playing on the commons. He thought of them as
children, though he remembered thinking of himself as an adult at that age.
Fifteen, sixteen years old. They wore OPA armbands. The boys spoke in
loud, angry voices about tyranny and freedom. The girls watch ed the boys
strut. The ancient, animal story , the same whether it was on a spinning rock
surrounded by hard vacuum or the stamp-sized chimpanzee preserves on
Earth. Even in the Belt, youth brought invulnerability , immortality , the
unshakable conviction that for you, things would be different. The laws of
physics would cut you a break, the missiles would never hit, the air would
never hiss out into nothing. Maybe for other peopleâthe patch ed-together
fighting ships of the OPA, the water haulers, the Martian gunships, the
The Fragility of Youth
- Miller observes the reckless optimism of the youth on Ceres, who believe they are immune to the physics and violence of the ongoing system-wide war.
- Following the termination of the Star Helix contract, the OPA has officially claimed Ceres, while the former governor has fled the station.
- Despite being unemployed and initially turning to alcohol, Miller finds himself bored and returns to his investigation of Julie Mao using saved docking logs.
- Miller meticulously audits ship records one by one, searching for anomalies or leads while the rest of the station remains fixated on the looming threat of Martian retaliation.
Even in the Belt, youth brought invulnerability, immortality, the unshakable conviction that for you, things would be different.
loud, angry voices about tyranny and freedom. The girls watch ed the boys
strut. The ancient, animal story , the same whether it was on a spinning rock
surrounded by hard vacuum or the stamp-sized chimpanzee preserves on
Earth. Even in the Belt, youth brought invulnerability , immortality , the
unshakable conviction that for you, things would be different. The laws of
physics would cut you a break, the missiles would never hit, the air would
never hiss out into nothing. Maybe for other peopleâthe patch ed-together
fighting ships of the OPA, the water haulers, the Martian gunships, the
Scopuli, the Canterbury , the Donnager , the hundred other ships that had
died in small actions since the system had turned itself into a battlefieldâ
but not you. And when youth was lucky enough to survive its optimism, all
Miller had left was a little fear, a little envy , and the overwhelm ing sense of
lifeâs fragility . But he had three monthâ s worth of company script in his
account and a lot of free time, and the cof fee wasnâ t bad.
âYou need anything, sir?â the waiter asked. He didnâ t look any older
than the kids on the grass. Miller shook his head.
Five days had passed since Star Helix pulled its contract. The governor
of Ceres was gone, smuggled out on a transport before the news had gone
wide. The Outer Planets Allian ce had announced the inclusion of Ceres
among official OPA-held real estate, and no one had said otherwise. Miller
had spent the first day of his unemployment drunk, but his bender had an
oddly pro forma feel. Heâd descended into the bottle because it was
familiar , becaus e it was what you did when youâd lost the career that
defined you.
The second day, heâd gotten through the hangover . The third, heâd
gotten bored. All through the station, security forces were making the kind
of display heâd expected, preemptive peacekeeping. The few political rallies
and protests ended fast and hard, and the citizens of Ceres didnâ t much care.
Their eyes were on their monit ors, on the war. A few locals with busted
heads getting thrown into prison without charges were beneath notice. And
Miller was personally responsible for none of it.
The fourth day, heâd checked his terminal and discovered that 80
percent of his docking log requests had come through before Shaddid had
shut his access down. Over a thousand entries, any one of which could be
the only remaining lead to Julie Mao. So far, no Martian nukes were on
their way to crack Ceres. No demands of surrender . No boarding forces. It
could all change in a moment, but until it did, Miller was drinking coffee
and auditing ship records, about one every fifteen minutes. Miller figured
that if Holden was the last ship in the log, heâd find him in about six weeks.
The Adrianopole, a third-gen prospector , had docked at Pallas within
the arrival window . Miller check ed the open registration, frustrated again at
how little information was there compared to the security databases. Owned
by Strego Anthony Abramowitz. Eight citations for substandard
maintenance, banned from Eros and Ceres as a danger to the port. An idiot
and an accident waiting to happen, but the flight plan seemed legitimate,
and the history of the ship was deep enough not to smell new-minted.
Miller deleted the entry .
The Badass Motherfucker , a freigh t hauler doing a triangle between
Luna, Ganymede, and the Belt. Owned by MYOFB Corporation out of
Luna. A query to the public bases at Ganymede showed it had left the port
there at the listed time and just hadnâ t bothered to file a flight plan. Miller
tapped the scree n with a finge rnail. Not exactly how heâd fly under the
radar . Anyone with authority would roust that ship just for the joy of doing
it. He deleted the entry .
His terminal chimed. An incoming message. Miller flipped over to it.
One of the girls on the comm ons shrieked and the others laughed. A
sparrow flew past, its wings humming in the constant recycler -driven
Uncertain Futures and Suspicious Flights
- Miller receives a message from his former partner Havelock, who has found lucrative work with Protogen security after leaving Ceres.
- Havelock offers to help Miller get a job with the private security firm, noting that Earth is abandoning stations to avoid being caught between Mars and the Belt.
- Struggling with his recent firing, Miller feels a sense of displacement and realizes he must find a new path beyond his obsession with the Julie Mao case.
- While reviewing flight logs, Miller identifies a suspicious gas hauler, the Rocinante, traveling between two gas-consuming stations without a logical source.
Youâve got a pit bull on one side of you and a rottweiler on the other, first thing you do is drop your steak.
Luna. A query to the public bases at Ganymede showed it had left the port
there at the listed time and just hadnâ t bothered to file a flight plan. Miller
tapped the scree n with a finge rnail. Not exactly how heâd fly under the
radar . Anyone with authority would roust that ship just for the joy of doing
it. He deleted the entry .
His terminal chimed. An incoming message. Miller flipped over to it.
One of the girls on the comm ons shrieked and the others laughed. A
sparrow flew past, its wings humming in the constant recycler -driven
breeze.
Havelock looked better than when heâd been on Ceres. Happier . The
dark circles were gone from his eyes, and the shape of his face had subtly
softened, as if the need to prove himself in the Belt had change d his bones
and now he was falling back into his natural form.
âMiller!â the recording said. âI heard about Earth cutting Ceres just
before I got your message. Bad luck. Iâm sorry to hear Shaddid fired you.
Between the two of us, sheâs a pompous idiot. The rumor Iâve heard is
Earth is doing everything it can to stay out of the war, including giving up
any station that itâs expecting to be a point of contention. You know how it
is. Youâve got a pit bull on one side of you and a rottweiler on the other ,
first thing you do is drop your steak.â
Miller chuckled.
âIâve signed on with Protogen security , big-company private army
bullshit. But the pay is worth putting up with their delusions of grandeur .
The contractâ s supposed to be on Ganymede, but with the crap going on
right now, who knows how itâll really play out? Turns out Protogenâ s got a
training base in the Belt. Iâd never heard about it, but itâs supposed to be
quite the gymnasium. I know theyâre hiring on, and Iâd be happy to put in a
word for you. Just let me know , and Iâll get you together with the induction
recruiter , get you of f that damned rock.â
Havelock smiled.
âTake care of yourself, partner ,â the Earther said. âKeep in touch.â
Protogen. Pinkwater . Al Abbiq. Small corporate security forces that
the big transorbital companies used as private armies and merce nary forces
to rent out as needed. AnnanSe c had the Pallas security contra ct, and had
for years, but it was Mars-based. The OPA was probably hiring, but
probably not him.
It had been years since heâd tried to find work. Heâd assum ed that
particular strugg le was behind him, that he was going to die working the
Ceres Station security contrac t. Now that events had thrown him out,
everything had an odd floating feeling. Like the gap between getting hit and
feeling the pain. He needed to find another job. He needed to do more than
send a couple messages out to his old partners. There were employment
firms. There were bars on Ceres that would hire an ex-cop for a bouncer .
There were gray markets that would take anyone capable of giving them a
veneer of legality .
The last thing that made sense was to sit around, ogling girls in the
park and chasing down leads on a case that he hadnâ t been meant to follow
up on in the first place.
The Dagon had come into Ceres just a little ahead of the arrival
window . Owned by the Glapion Collective, who were, he was pretty sure,
an OPA front. That made it a good fit. Except the flight plan had been put in
just a few hours after the Donnager blew, and the exit record from Io
looked solid. Miller shifted it into a file he was keeping for ships that
earned a second look.
The Rocinante, owned by Silencieux Courant Holdings out of Luna,
was a gas haule r that had lande d at Tycho just hours before the end of the
arrival window . Silencieux Courant was a medium-sized corporate entity
with no obvious ties to the OPA, and the flight plan from Pallas was
plausible. Miller put his fingertip over the delete key, then paused. He sat
back.
Why was a gas hauler going between Pallas and Tycho? Both stations
were gas consumers. Flying from consumer to consumer without hitting a
Miller's Mouse Work
- Miller identifies a suspicious flight plan for the Rocinante, noting that a gas hauler traveling between two consumer stations is economically illogical.
- Recognizing the name's literary origin, Miller suspects James Holden is behind the ship's movements and is 'tilting at windmills.'
- Stripped of his official resources and authority, Miller reaches out to his former partner Havelock to request an off-the-books watch on the vessel.
- The deteriorating social order on Ceres manifests in a sudden riot, forcing Miller to intervene and warn local youths away from the violence.
Heâd been a cop, and theyâd turned him into a mouse. Still, he thought, sitting back in the chair. Pretty good work for a mouse.
The Rocinante, owned by Silencieux Courant Holdings out of Luna,
was a gas haule r that had lande d at Tycho just hours before the end of the
arrival window . Silencieux Courant was a medium-sized corporate entity
with no obvious ties to the OPA, and the flight plan from Pallas was
plausible. Miller put his fingertip over the delete key, then paused. He sat
back.
Why was a gas hauler going between Pallas and Tycho? Both stations
were gas consumers. Flying from consumer to consumer without hitting a
supply in the middle was a good way to not cover your docking fees. He put
in a request for the flight plan that had taken the Rocinante to Palla s from
wherever it had been before, then sat back to wait. If the records were
cached in the Ceres servers, the request shouldnâ t take more than a minute
or two. The notification bar estimated an hour and a half, so that meant the
request was getting forwarded to the docking systems at Palla s. It hadnâ t
been in the local backup.
Miller stroked his chin; five days of stubble had almost reached the
beginning of a beard. He felt a smile starting. He did a definitio n search on
Rocinante. Literall y meani ng âno longer a workhorse,â its first entry was as
the name of Don Quixoteâ s horse.
âThat you, Holden?â Miller said to the screen. âYou out tilting at
windmills?â
âSir?â the waiter said, but Miller waved him away .
There were hundreds of entries still to be looked at and dozens at least
in his second-look folder . Miller ignored them, staring at the entry from
Tycho as if by sheer force of will he could make more information appear
on the screen. Then, slowly , he pulled up the message from Havelock, hit
the respond key, and looked into the tiny black pinprick of the terminalâ s
camera.
âHey , partner ,â he said. âThanks for the offer. I may take you up on it,
but Iâve got some kinks I need to work out before I jump. You know how it
is. If you can do me a favor , though⌠I need to keep track of a ship, and
Iâve only got the public databases to work from, plus which Ceres may be at
war with Mars by now. Who knows, you know? Anyway , if you can put a
level one watch on any flight plans for her, drop me a note if anything
comes up⌠Iâd buy you a drink sometime.â
He paused. There had to be something more to say .
âTake care of yourself, partner .â
He reviewed the message. On-screen, he looked tired, the smile a little
fake, the voice a little higher than it sounded in his head. But it said what it
needed to say . He sent it.
This was what heâd been reduced to. Access gone, service gun
confiscatedâthough he still had a couple of drops in his holeâmoney
running out. He had to play the angles, call in favors for things that should
have been routine, outthink the system for any scrap. Heâd been a cop, and
theyâd turned him into a mouse. Still, he thought, sitting back in the chair .
Pretty good work for a mouse.
The sound of detonation came from spinward, then voices raised in
anger . The kids on the common s stopped their games of touch -me touch-
you and stared. Miller stood up. There was smoke, but he couldnâ t see
flames. The breeze picked up as the station air cleaners raised the flow to
suck away particulates so the sensors didnâ t think there was a risk of
fanning a fire. Three gunshots rang out in fast succession, and the voices
came together in a rough chant. Miller couldnâ t make words out of it, but
the rhythm told him all he needed to know . Not a disaster , not a fire, not a
breach. Just a riot.
The kids were walking toward the commotion. Miller caught one by
the elbow . She couldnâ t have been more than sixteen, her eyes near black,
her face a perfect heart shape.
âDonâ t go over there,â he said. âGet your friends together and walk the
other way .â
The Brink of War
- Miller witnesses the beginning of a riot on Ceres station, signaling a breakdown in social order as local tensions boil over.
- Geopolitical instability spreads across the solar system, with OPA sympathizers seizing Triton's astronomy labs to expose Martian military positions.
- Earth begins a strategic withdrawal from the Outer Planets, while Mars and the Belt move toward an inevitable and catastrophic military confrontation.
- Miller abandons his life on Ceres, packing his few belongings to pursue the mystery of Julie Mao and James Holden as his sole remaining purpose.
Mars knew the Belt couldnât win, and the Belt knew it had nothing to lose.
anger . The kids on the common s stopped their games of touch -me touch-
you and stared. Miller stood up. There was smoke, but he couldnâ t see
flames. The breeze picked up as the station air cleaners raised the flow to
suck away particulates so the sensors didnâ t think there was a risk of
fanning a fire. Three gunshots rang out in fast succession, and the voices
came together in a rough chant. Miller couldnâ t make words out of it, but
the rhythm told him all he needed to know . Not a disaster , not a fire, not a
breach. Just a riot.
The kids were walking toward the commotion. Miller caught one by
the elbow . She couldnâ t have been more than sixteen, her eyes near black,
her face a perfect heart shape.
âDonâ t go over there,â he said. âGet your friends together and walk the
other way .â
The girl looked at him, his hand on her arm, the distant commotion.
âYou canâ t help,â he said.
She pulled her arm free.
âGotta try, yeah?â she said. âPodrĂa intentar , you know .â You could
too.
âJust did,â Miller said as he put his terminal in its case and walked
away . Behind him, the sounds of the riot grew . But he figured the police
could take care of it.
Over the next fourteen hours, the system net reported five riots on the
station, some minor structural damage. Someone heâd never heard of
announced a tri-phase curfew; people out of their holes more than two
hours before or after their work shifts would be subject to arrest. Whoever
was running the show now thoug ht they could lock down six million people
and create stability and peace. He wondered what Shaddid thought about
that.
Outside Ceres, things were getting worse. The deep astronomy labs on
Triton had been occupied by a band of prospectors sympathetic to the OPA.
Theyâd turned the array in-system and had been broadcasting the location of
every Martian ship in the system along with high-definition images of the
surface of Mars, down to the topless sunbathers in the dome parks. The
story was that a volley of nukes was on its way to the station, and the array
would be bright dust within a week. Earthâ s imitation of a snail was picking
up the pace as Earth- and Luna-based companies pulled back down the
gravity well. Not all of them, not even half, but enough to send the Terran
message: Count us out. Mars appealed for solidarity; the Belt appealed for
justice or , more often, told the birthplace of humanity to go fuck itself.
It wasnât out of control yet, but it was ramping up. Anoth er few
incidents and it wouldnâ t matter how it had started. It wouldnâ t matter what
the stakes were. Mars knew the Belt couldnâ t win, and the Belt knew it had
nothing to lose. It was a recipe for death on a scale humanity had never
seen.
And, like Ceres, there wasnâ t much Miller could do about that either .
But he could find James Holden, find out what had happened to the Scopuli,
follow the leads back to Julie Mao. He was a detective. It was what he did.
As he packed up his hole, throw ing out the collected detritus that grew
over decades like a crust, he talked to her. He tried to explain why heâd
given up everything to find her. After his discovery of the Rocinante, he
could hardly avoid the word quixotic.
His imaginary Julie laughed or was touched. She thought he was a sad,
pathetic little man, since just tracking her down was the nearest to a purpose
in life he could find. She dressed him down as being a tool of her parents.
She wept and put her arms around him. She sat with him in some almost
unimaginable observation lounge and watched the stars.
He fit everything he had into a shoulder bag. Two changes of clothes,
his pape rs, his hand terminal. A picture of Candace from back in better
days. All the hard copy of Julieâ s case heâd made before Shaddi d wiped his
partition, includ ing three pictures of Julie. He thought that everything heâd
Miller's Quixotic Departure
- Detective Miller liquidates his life on Ceres, packing his few belongings into a single shoulder bag as he prepares to hunt for Julie Mao.
- The geopolitical tension between Mars and the Belt escalates toward a scale of violence humanity has never witnessed.
- Miller experiences a rare moment of genuine human connection when his former partner, Muss, gives him a tearful goodbye.
- A last-minute tip from Havelock reveals that James Holden is heading to Eros, prompting Miller to divert his journey and risk his remaining funds.
- The crew of the Rocinante struggles with the psychological toll of 'ship-bound' tension and the claustrophobia of deep-space travel.
He thought that everything heâd lived through should have added up to more, and then changed his mind.
justice or , more often, told the birthplace of humanity to go fuck itself.
It wasnât out of control yet, but it was ramping up. Anoth er few
incidents and it wouldnâ t matter how it had started. It wouldnâ t matter what
the stakes were. Mars knew the Belt couldnâ t win, and the Belt knew it had
nothing to lose. It was a recipe for death on a scale humanity had never
seen.
And, like Ceres, there wasnâ t much Miller could do about that either .
But he could find James Holden, find out what had happened to the Scopuli,
follow the leads back to Julie Mao. He was a detective. It was what he did.
As he packed up his hole, throw ing out the collected detritus that grew
over decades like a crust, he talked to her. He tried to explain why heâd
given up everything to find her. After his discovery of the Rocinante, he
could hardly avoid the word quixotic.
His imaginary Julie laughed or was touched. She thought he was a sad,
pathetic little man, since just tracking her down was the nearest to a purpose
in life he could find. She dressed him down as being a tool of her parents.
She wept and put her arms around him. She sat with him in some almost
unimaginable observation lounge and watched the stars.
He fit everything he had into a shoulder bag. Two changes of clothes,
his pape rs, his hand terminal. A picture of Candace from back in better
days. All the hard copy of Julieâ s case heâd made before Shaddi d wiped his
partition, includ ing three pictures of Julie. He thought that everything heâd
lived through should have added up to more, and then changed his mind. It
was probably about right.
He spent one last day ignoring the curfew , making his rounds of the
station, saying goodbye to the few people he felt he might miss or might
miss him. To his surprise, Muss, who he found at a tense and uncomfortable
police bar , actually teared up and hugged him until his ribs ached from it.
He book ed passage on a transpo rt to Tycho. His bunk ran him a quarter
of his remaining funds. It occurred to him, not for the first time, that he had
to find Julie pretty damn quick or find a job to support him through the
investigation. But it hadnâ t happened yet, and the universe wasnât stable
enough anymore to make long-range planning more than a sour joke.
As if to prove the point, his terminal chimed as he was in the line to
board the transport.
âHey , partner,â Havelock said. âThat favor you needed? I got a bite.
Your package just put in a flight plan for Eros. Iâm sending the public-
access data attached. Iâd get you the good stuff, but these Protog en guys are
tight. I mentioned you to the recruiter and she seemed interested. So let me
know , right? T alk to you soon.â
Eros.
Great.
Miller nodded at the woman behind him, stepped out of line, and
walked to the kiosk. By the time a screen was open, they were calling final
boarding for the Tycho transpor t. Miller turned in his ticket, got a nominal
refund, and spent a third of what he still had in his account for a ticket to
Eros. Still, it could have been worse. He could have been on the way before
he got word. He had to start thinking about it as good luck, not bad.
The passage confirmation came through with a chime like a gently
struck triangle.
âI hope Iâm right about this,â he said to Julie. âIf Holdenâ s not there,
Iâm gonna feel pretty stupid.â
In his mind, she smiled ruefully .
Life is risk, she said.
Chapter T wenty-One
Holden
Ships were small. Space was always at a premium, and even on a monster
like the Donnager , the corridors and compartme nts were cramped and
uncomfortable. On the Rocinante, the only room s where Holden could
spread out his arms without touching two walls were the galley and the
cargo bay. No one who flew for a living was claustrophobic, but even the
most hardened Belt prospector could recognize the rising tensi on of being
ship-bound. It was the ancient stress response of the trapped animal, the
The Restless Shore Leave
- The crew of the Rocinante experiences the psychological release of shore leave on Tycho Station after the claustrophobic stress of space travel.
- Amos returns from a three-day bender, highlighting the common sailor's habit of using indulgence to cope with the 'trapped animal' stress of ship life.
- While the crew enjoys the comfort and safety provided by Fred Johnson, Holden grows increasingly agitated by their lack of direction.
- Holden attempts to rally the crew to seek vengeance for their lost ship, but Alex points out the impracticality of searching for an unknown enemy in the vastness of space.
It was the ancient stress response of the trapped animal, the subconscious knowledge that there was literally nowhere to go that you couldnât see from where you were already standing.
Holden
Ships were small. Space was always at a premium, and even on a monster
like the Donnager , the corridors and compartme nts were cramped and
uncomfortable. On the Rocinante, the only room s where Holden could
spread out his arms without touching two walls were the galley and the
cargo bay. No one who flew for a living was claustrophobic, but even the
most hardened Belt prospector could recognize the rising tensi on of being
ship-bound. It was the ancient stress response of the trapped animal, the
subconscious knowledge that there was literally nowhere to go that you
couldnâ t see from where you were already standing. Getting off the ship at
port was a sudden and sometimes giddying release of tension.
It often took the form of a drinking game.
Like all professi onal sailors, Holden had sometimes ended long flights
by drink ing himself into a stupor. More than once heâd wand ered into a
brothel and left only when they threw him out with an emptied account, a
sore groin, and a prostate as dry as the Sahara desert. So when Amos
staggered into his room after three days on station, Holden knew exactly
what the big mechanic felt like.
Holden and Alex were sharing the couch and watching a newsfeed.
Two talking heads were discussing the Belter actions with words like
criminal, terrorist, and sabotage. The Martians were âpeacekeepe rs.â It was
a Martian news channel. Amos snorted and collapsed on the couch. Holden
muted the screen.
âHaving a good shore leave, sailor?â Holden asked with a grin.
âIâll never drink again,â Amos groaned.
âNaomiâ s comin â over with some chow she got at that sushi place,â
Alex said. âNice raw fish wrapped in fake seaweed.â
Amos groaned again.
âThatâ s not nice, Alex,â Holden said. âLet the manâ s liver die in
peace.â
The door to the suite slid open again, and Naomi came in carrying a
tall stack of white boxes.
âFoodâ s here,â she said.
Alex opened all the boxes and started handing around small disposable
plates.
âEvery time itâs your turn to get food, you get salmon rolls. It shows a
lack of imagination,â Holden said as he began putting food on his plate.
âI like salmon,â Naomi replied.
The room got quiet as people ate; the only sounds were the clack of
plastic chopsticks and the wet squish of things being dipped in wasabi and
soy. When the food was gone, Holden wiped his eyes, made runny by the
heat in his sinuses, and leaned his chair all the way back. Amos used one of
his chopsticks to scratch under the cast on his leg.
âYou guys did a pretty good job setting this,â he said. âItâs the thing on
my body that hurts the least right now .â
Naomi grabbed the remote off Holdenâ s armrest and turned the volume
back on. She began spooling through the different feeds. Alex closed his
eyes and slid down on the loveseat, lacing his fingers across his belly and
sighing contentedly . Holden felt a sudden and irrational annoyance at his
crew for being so comfortable.
âEveryone had enough of suckin g on Fredâ s teat yet?â he said. âI know
I have.â
âWhat the fuck are you talking about?â Amos said, shaking his head.
âIâm just getting started.â
âI mean,â Holden said, âhow long are we going to hang around on
Tycho, drinking and whoring and eating sushi on Fredâ s expense account?â
âAs long as I can?â Alex said.
âYou have a better plan, then,â Naomi said.
âI donât have a plan, but I want to get back in the game. We were full
of righteous anger and dreams of vengeance when we got here, and a
couple of blowjobs and hangovers later , itâs like nothing ever happened.â
âUh, vengeance kinda requires someone to avenge upon, Cap,â Alex
said. âCase you ainâ t noticed, weâre lackinâ in that department.â
âThat ship is still out there, somewhere. The people who ordered it to
shoot are, too,â Holden said.
âSo,â Alex replied slowly , âwe take off and start flyinâ in a spiral until
we run into it?â
A Plan for Independence
- Holden expresses frustration with the crew's complacency, fearing that their desire for vengeance is being lost to the comforts of station life.
- The crew debates the effectiveness of Fred Johnson's promised legal trial, with Holden worrying they are becoming 'station rats' dependent on Fred's charity.
- Holden proposes finding independent work as a blockade-running cargo ship to regain financial freedom and keep an eye out for their enemies.
- The crew agrees to the plan, though they negotiate for a few more days of rest before returning to the dangers of space.
- Arrangements are finalized for the respectful return of Lieutenant Kelly's body to Mars once the crew's survival is made public.
Itâs a nice one, but as long as Fred controls the purse strings, he owns us.
âAs long as I can?â Alex said.
âYou have a better plan, then,â Naomi said.
âI donât have a plan, but I want to get back in the game. We were full
of righteous anger and dreams of vengeance when we got here, and a
couple of blowjobs and hangovers later , itâs like nothing ever happened.â
âUh, vengeance kinda requires someone to avenge upon, Cap,â Alex
said. âCase you ainâ t noticed, weâre lackinâ in that department.â
âThat ship is still out there, somewhere. The people who ordered it to
shoot are, too,â Holden said.
âSo,â Alex replied slowly , âwe take off and start flyinâ in a spiral until
we run into it?â
Naomi laughed and threw a soy packet at him.
âI donât know what we do,â Holden said, âbut sitting here while the
people who killed our ship keep doing whatever it is theyâr e doing is
making me nuts.â
âWeâve been here three days,â Naomi said. âWe deserve some
comfortable beds and decent food and a chance to blow off steam . Donâ t try
to make us feel bad for taking it.â
âBesides, Fred said weâll get those bastards at the trial,â Amos said.
âIf thereâ s a trial,â Holden replied. âIf. It wonâ t happen for months, or
maybe even years. And even then, Fredâ s looking at those treaties. Amnesty
might be another bar gaining chip, right?â
âYou were quick enough to agree to his terms, Jim,â Naom i said.
âChanged your mind?â
âIf Fred wants depositions in exchange for letting us patch up and rest,
the price was cheap. That doesn ât mean I think a trial will fix everything, or
that I want to be sidelined until it happens.â
He gestured at the faux-leather couch and huge wall screen around
them.
âBesides, this can be a prison. Itâs a nice one, but as long as Fred
controls the purse strings, he owns us. Make no mistake.â
Naomiâ s brow crinkled; her eyes grew serious.
âWhatâ s the option, sir?â she asked. âLeave?â
Holden folded his arms, his mind turning over everything heâd said as
if he was hearing it for the first time. Saying things out loud actually made
them clearer .
âIâm thinking we look for work,â he said. âWeâve got a good ship.
More importantly , we have a sneaky ship. Itâs fast. We can run without a
transponder if we need to. Lots of people will need things moved from
place to place with a war on. Gives us something to do while we wait for
Fredâ s trial, and a way to put money in our pockets so we can get off the
dole. And, as we fly from place to place, we can keep our ears and eyes
open. Never know what weâll find. And seriously , how long can you three
stand to be station rats?â
There was a momentâ s silence.
âI could station rat for another⌠week?â Amos said.
âIt ainâ t a bad idea, Cap,â Alex said with a nod.
âItâs your decision, Captain,â Naomi said. âIâll stick with you, and I
like the idea of getting my own money again. But I hope youâre not in a
hurry . I could really use a few more days of f.â
Holden clapped his hands and jumped to his feet.
âNope,â he said. âHaving a plan makes all the difference. Downtimeâ s
easier to enjoy when I know itâll end.â
Alex and Amos got up together and headed for the door. Alex had won
a few dollars playing darts, and now he and Amos were in the process of
turning it into even more money at the card tables.
âDonâ t wait up, Boss,â Amos said to Naomi. âIâm feeling lucky
today .â
They left, and Holden went to the small kitchen nook to make coffee.
Naomi followed him in.
âOne other thing,â she said.
Holden tore open the sealed coffee packet, the strong odor filling the
room.
âShoot,â he said.
âFred is taking care of all the arrangements for Kellyâ s body . Heâll
hold it here in state until we go public with our survival. Then heâll ship it
back to Mars.â
Holden filled the coffeemaker with water from the tap and started the
machine. It made soft gur gling sounds.
âGood. Lieutenant Kelly deserves all the respect and dignity we can
give him.â
Command and Conspiracies
- Naomi informs Holden that Fred Johnson is handling the funeral arrangements for Lieutenant Kelly and suggests giving Fred the encrypted data cube.
- The data cube contains military-grade encryption that Naomi cannot crack, leading her to believe Fred's OPA resources are their best hope.
- Naomi officially recognizes Holden as their captain, praising his ability to keep the crew stable and focused during the crisis.
- Holden meets with Fred Johnson in his massive office, where Fred expresses frustration over the technical difficulties of building the generation ship Nauvoo.
You keep everyone in orbit around you. Not everyone can do that, I couldnât do it, and weâve needed that stability.
They left, and Holden went to the small kitchen nook to make coffee.
Naomi followed him in.
âOne other thing,â she said.
Holden tore open the sealed coffee packet, the strong odor filling the
room.
âShoot,â he said.
âFred is taking care of all the arrangements for Kellyâ s body . Heâll
hold it here in state until we go public with our survival. Then heâll ship it
back to Mars.â
Holden filled the coffeemaker with water from the tap and started the
machine. It made soft gur gling sounds.
âGood. Lieutenant Kelly deserves all the respect and dignity we can
give him.â
âIt got me think ing about that data cube he had. I havenâ t been able to
hack it. Itâs some kind of militar y Ăźber-encryption that makes my head hurt.
SoâŚâ
âJust say it,â Holden said with a frown.
âI want to give it to Fred. I know itâs a risk. We have no idea whatâ s on
it, and for all his charm and hospitality , Fredâ s still OPA. But he was also
high-ranking UN military . And heâs got a serious brain trust here on the
station. He might be able to open it up.â
Holden thought for a moment, then nodded.
âOkay , let me sit with that. I want to know what Yao was trying to get
off the ship, butââ
âYeah.â
They shared a companionable silence as the coffee brewed. When it
was finished, Holden poured two mugs and handed one to Naomi.
âCaptain,â she said, then paused. âJim. Iâve been a pain-in-the-ass XO
so far. Iâve been stressed out and scared shitless about eighty percent of the
time.â
âYou do an amazing job of hiding that fact,â Holden replied.
Naomi nodded the compliment away .
âAnyway , Iâve been pushy abou t some things that I probably shouldnâ t
have been.â
âNot a big deal.â
âOkay , let me finish,â she said. âI want you to know I think youâve
done a great job of keeping us alive. You keep us focused on the problems
we can solve instead of feeling sorry for ourselves. You keep everyone in
orbit around you. Not everyone can do that, I couldnâ t do it, and weâve
needed that stability .â
Holden felt a glow of pride. He hadnâ t expected it, and he didnât trust
it, but it felt good all the same.
âThank you,â Holden said.
âI canât speak for Amos and Alex, but I plan to stick it out. Youâre not
just the captain because McDowell is dead. Y ouâre our captain, as far as Iâm
concerned. Just so you know .â
She looked down, blushing as if sheâd just confessed something.
Maybe she had.
âIâll try not to blow it,â he said.
âIâd appreciate that, sir .â
Fred Johnsonâ s office was like its occupant: big, intimidating, and
overflowing with things that needed to be done. The room was easily two
and a half square meteres, making it larger than any single compartment on
the Rocinante. His desk was made of actual wood, looked at least a hundred
years old, and smelled of lemon oil. Holden sat in a chair that was just a
little lower than Fredâ s, and looked at the mounds of file folders and papers
covering every flat surface.
Fred had sent for him and then spent the first ten minutes after heâd
arrived speaking on the phone. Whatever he was talking about , it sounded
technical. Hold en assumed it was related to the giant gene ration ship
outside. It didnâ t bother him to be ignored for a few minutes, since the wall
behind Fred was entirely cove red by a bleedingly high-definition screen
pretending to be a window . It was showing a spectacular view of the
Nauvoo moving past as the station spun. Fred spoiled the scene by putting
the phone down.
âSorry about that,â he said. âThe atmosphere processing system has
been a nightmare from day one. When youâre going a hundred plus years on
only the air you can bring with you, the loss tolerances are⌠stricter than
usual. Sometimes itâs difficult to impress the importance of fine details on
the contractors.â
âI was enjoying the view ,â Holden said, gesturing at the screen.
âIâm starting to wonder if weâll be able to get it done on schedule.â
âWhy?â
Fred sighed and leaned his chair back with a squeak.
The Price of Trust
- Fred Johnson explains that the war between Mars and the Belt is causing severe material shortages and shipping delays for the Nauvoo project.
- Escalating violence from pirate casts and homemade torpedoes has led to a 'shoot first' mentality among Martian warships.
- Fred requests to borrow the Rocinante for a secret mission to Eros to retrieve an important individual.
- Holden refuses to cooperate with the mission unless Fred provides full transparency, rejecting the 'cloak-and-dagger' secrecy.
Iâve watched a ship get bigger and bigger on the scope while my finger was on the trigger.
âSorry about that,â he said. âThe atmosphere processing system has
been a nightmare from day one. When youâre going a hundred plus years on
only the air you can bring with you, the loss tolerances are⌠stricter than
usual. Sometimes itâs difficult to impress the importance of fine details on
the contractors.â
âI was enjoying the view ,â Holden said, gesturing at the screen.
âIâm starting to wonder if weâll be able to get it done on schedule.â
âWhy?â
Fred sighed and leaned his chair back with a squeak.
âItâs the war between Mars and the Belt.â
âMaterial shortages, then?â
âNot just that. Pirate casts claiming to speak for the OPA are working
into a frenzy . Belt prospectors with homemade torpedo launchers are firing
on Martian warships. They get wiped out in response, but every now and
then one of those torpedoes hits and kills a few Martians.â
âWhich means Mars starts shooting first.â
Fred nodded and then got up and started pacing the room.
âAnd then even honest citizen s on legitimate business start getting
worried about going out of the house,â he said. âWeâve had over a dozen
late shipments so far this month, and Iâm worried it will stop being delays
and start being cancellations.â
âYou know , Iâve been thinking about the same thing,â Holden said.
Fred acted as though he hadnâ t heard.
âIâve been on that bridge,â Fred said. âUnidentified ship coming on
you, and a decision to make? No one wants to press the button. Iâve
watched a ship get bigger and bigger on the scope while my finger was on
the trigger . I remember begging them to stop.â
Holden said nothing. Heâd seen it too. There was nothing to say. Fred
let silence hang in the air for a moment, then shook his head and
straightened up.
âI need to ask you a favor ,â Fred said.
âYou can always ask, Fred. Youâve paid for that much,â Holden
replied.
âI need to borrow your ship.â
âThe Roci?â Holden said. âWhy?â
âI need to have something picke d up and delivered here, and I need a
ship that can stay quiet and run past Martian picket ships if it needs to.â
âThe Rocinante is definitely the right ship, then, but that didnâ t answer
my question. Why?â
Fred turned his back to Holden and looked at the view screen. The
nose of the Nauvoo was just vanish ing from sight. The view turned to the
flat, star -speckled black of forever .
âI need to pick someone up on Eros,â he said. âSomeone important.
Iâve got people who can do it, but the only ships weâve got are light
freighters and a couple of small shuttles. Nothing that can make the trip
quickly enough or have a hope of running away if trouble starts.â
âDoes this perso n have a name ? I mean, you keep saying you donât
want to fight, but the other unique thing about my ship is that itâs the only
one here with guns. Iâm sure the OPA has a whole list of things theyâd like
blown up.â
âYou donâ t trust me.â
âNope.â
Fred turned back around and gripped the back of his chair . His
knuckles were white. Holden wondered if heâd gone too far .
âLook,â Holden said, âyou talk a good game about peace and trials and
all that. You disavow the pirate casts. You have a nice station filled with
nice people. I have every reason to believe you are what you say you are.
But weâve been here three days, and the first time you tell me about your
plans, you ask to borrow my ship for a secret mission. Sorry . If Iâm part of
this, I get full access; no secrets. Even if I knew for a fact, which I donât,
that you had nothing but good intentions, I still wouldnâ t go along with the
cloak-and-dagger bullshit.â
The Polanski Gambit
- Holden refuses to loan his ship for a secret mission, demanding full transparency and personal involvement in Fred Johnson's plans.
- Fred reveals that the owner of the Scopuli, a fictional persona named Lionel Polanski, has resurfaced at a flophouse on Eros.
- Holden negotiates a deal to act as a hired contractor for the mission, offering to leave video depositions to satisfy legal requirements.
- To seal the deal, Holden offers Fred the highly sensitive data cube recovered from the destruction of the Martian flagship Donnager.
âThe fact that Lionel doesnât actually exist complicates the mission.â
Fred turned back around and gripped the back of his chair . His
knuckles were white. Holden wondered if heâd gone too far .
âLook,â Holden said, âyou talk a good game about peace and trials and
all that. You disavow the pirate casts. You have a nice station filled with
nice people. I have every reason to believe you are what you say you are.
But weâve been here three days, and the first time you tell me about your
plans, you ask to borrow my ship for a secret mission. Sorry . If Iâm part of
this, I get full access; no secrets. Even if I knew for a fact, which I donât,
that you had nothing but good intentions, I still wouldnâ t go along with the
cloak-and-dagger bullshit.â
Fred stared at him for a few seconds, then came around his chair and
sat down. Holden found he was tapping his fingers on his thigh nervously
and forced hims elf to stop. Fredâs eyes flicked down at Holden âs hand and
then back up. He continued to stare.
Holden cleared his throat.
âLook, youâre the big dog here. Even if I didnâ t know who you used to
be, youâd scare the shit out of me, so donât feel the need to prove it. But no
matter how scared I am, Iâm not backing down on this.â
Fredâ s hoped-for laughter didnâ t come. Holden tried to swallow
without gulping.
âI bet every captain you ever flew under thought you were a gigantic
pain in the ass,â Fred said finally .
âI believ e my record reflects that,â Holden said, trying to hide his
relief.
âI need to fly to Eros and find a man named Lionel Polanski, and then
bring him back to T ycho.â
âThatâ s only a week out if we push,â Holden said, doing the math in
his head.
âThe fact that Lionel doesnâ t actually exist complicates the mission.â
âYeah, okay . Now Iâm confused,â Holden agreed.
âYou wanted in?â Fred said, the words taking on a quiet ferocity .
âNow youâre in. Lionel Polanski exists only on paper , and owns things that
Mr. Tycho doesnâ t want to own. Including a courier ship called the
Scopuli. â
Holden leaned forward in his chair , his face intense.
âYou now have my undivided attention,â he said.
âThe nonexistent owner of the Scopuli checked into a flophouse on
one of the shit levels of Eros. We only just got the message. We have to
work on the assumption that whoever got the room knows our operations
intimately , needs help, and canâ t ask for it openly .â
âWe can leave in an hour ,â Holden said breathlessly .
Fred held up his hands in a gesture that was surprisingly Belter for an
Earth man.
âWhen,â Fred asked, âdid this turn into you leaving?â
âI wonâ t loan my ship, but Iâll definitely rent it out. My crew and I
were talking about getting jobs, actually . Hire us. Deduct whatev erâs fair for
services youâve already rendered.â
âNo,â Fred said. âI need you.â
âYou donât,â Holden replied. âYou need our depositions. And weâre
not going to sit here waiting a year or two for sanity to reign. Weâll all do
video depositions, sign whatev er affidavits you want us to as to their
authenticity , but weâre leaving to find work one way or the other . You might
as well make use of it.â
âNo,â Fred said. âY ouâre too valuable to take risks with your lives.â
âWhat if I throw in the data cube the captain of the Donnager was
trying to liberate?â
The silence was back, but it had a dif ferent feel to it.
âLook,â Holden said, pressing on. âYou need a ship like the Roci. Iâve
got one. You need a crew for her. Iâve got that too. And youâre as hungry to
know whatâ s on that cube as I am.â
âI donâ t like the risk.â
âYour other option is to throw us in the brig and commandeer the ship.
Thereâ s some risks in that too.â
Fred laughed. Holden felt himself relax.
âYouâll still have the same problem that brought you here,â Fred said.
âYour ship looks like a gunship, no matter what its transponder is saying.â
Holden jumped up and grabbed a piece of paper from Fredâ s desk. He
started writing on it with a pen snatched from a decorative pen set.
Alliances and Cheap Transports
- Holden and Fred Johnson reach a formal agreement to use the Rocinante as an independent contractor for OPA interests.
- To hide the ship's Martian origin, Holden proposes a crude disguise involving welded gas tanks and a 'Belter' aesthetic.
- The deal includes Holden's crew providing legal depositions and giving Fred the right of first refusal on future contracts.
- Miller travels toward Eros on a cramped, low-budget transport ship characterized by industrial smells and 'undercooked beef' lighting.
- While the solar system teeters on the edge of war following the secession of Ceres, Miller remains obsessed with Julie Mao's case file.
Itâll look exactly like what it is: something a bunch of Belters slapped together in a hurry.
The silence was back, but it had a dif ferent feel to it.
âLook,â Holden said, pressing on. âYou need a ship like the Roci. Iâve
got one. You need a crew for her. Iâve got that too. And youâre as hungry to
know whatâ s on that cube as I am.â
âI donâ t like the risk.â
âYour other option is to throw us in the brig and commandeer the ship.
Thereâ s some risks in that too.â
Fred laughed. Holden felt himself relax.
âYouâll still have the same problem that brought you here,â Fred said.
âYour ship looks like a gunship, no matter what its transponder is saying.â
Holden jumped up and grabbed a piece of paper from Fredâ s desk. He
started writing on it with a pen snatched from a decorative pen set.
âIâve been think ing about that. Youâve got full manufacturing facilities
here. And weâre supposed to be a light gas freighter . So,â he said as he
sketched a rough outline of the ship, âwe weld on a bunch of empty
compressed-gas storage tanks in two bands around the hull. Use them to
hide the tubes. Repaint the whole thing. Weld on a few projectio ns to break
up the hull profi le and hide us from ship-recognition software. Itâll look like
shit and screw up the aerodynamics, but we wonâ t be near atmo anytime
soon. Itâll look exactly like what it is: something a bunch of Belters slapped
together in a hurry .â
He handed the paper to Fred. Fred began laughing in earnest, either at
the terrible drawing or at the absurdity of the whole thing.
âYou could give a pirate a hell of a surprise,â he said. âIf I do this, you
and your crew will record my depositions and hire on as an independent
contractor for errands like the Eros run and appear on my behalf when the
peace negotiations start.â
âYes.â
âI want the right to outbid anyone else who tries to hire you. No
contracts without my counterof fer.â
Holden held out his hand, and Fred shook it.
âNice doing business with you, Fred.â
As Hold en left the office, Fred was already on the comm with his
machine-shop people. Holden pulled out his portable terminal and called up
Naomi.
âYeah,â she said.
âPack up the kids, weâre going to Eros.â
Chapter T wenty-T wo
Miller
The people-mov er to Eros was small, cheap, and overcrowded. The air
recyclers had the plastic-and-res in smell of long-life industrial models that
Miller associate d with warehouses and fuel depots. The lights were cheap
LEDs tinted a false pink that was supposed to flatter the complexion but
instead made everyone look like undercooked beef. There were no cabins,
only row after row of formed laminate seating and two long walls with five-
stacks of bunks that the passeng ers could hot-swap. Miller had never been
on a cheapjack transport before, but he knew how they worked. If there was
a fight, the shipâ s crew would pump riot gas into the cabin, knock everyone
out, and put anyone whoâd been in the scuffle under restrain t. It was a
draconian system, but it did tend to keep passengers polite. The bar was
always open and the drinks were cheap. Not long ago Miller would have
found that enticing.
Instead, he sat on one of the long seats, his hand terminal open. Julieâ s
case fileâwhat he had reconstru cted of itâglowed before him. The picture
of her, proud and smiling, in front of the Razorback, the dates and records,
her jiu jitsu training. It seemed like very little, considering how large the
woman had grown in his life.
A small newsfeed crawled down the terminalâ s left side. The war
between Mars and the Belt escalated, incident after incident, but the
secession of Ceres Station was the top news. Earth was taken to task by
Martian comme ntators for failing to stand united with its fellow inner
planet, or at least for not handing over the Ceres security contract to Mars.
The scattershot reaction of the Belt ran the gamut from pleasure at seeing
Earthâ s influence fall back down the gravity well, to strident near-panic at
the loss of Ceresâ neutrality , to conspiracy theories that Earth was
The Herpes of the Species
- The secession of Ceres Station from Earth's control triggers a geopolitical crisis, causing panic and conspiracy theories throughout the Belt.
- Miller, a former Ceres cop, travels toward Eros and engages in a philosophical conversation with a missionary returning from Luna.
- The missionary describes war as an inescapable, recurring madness inherent to human nature, likening it to a chronic disease.
- Miller reflects on his displacement, realizing that his life on Ceres is permanently over and he no longer has a home to return to.
âThe herpes simplex of the species?â the missionary said with a laugh. âI suppose there are worse ways to think of it.â
between Mars and the Belt escalated, incident after incident, but the
secession of Ceres Station was the top news. Earth was taken to task by
Martian comme ntators for failing to stand united with its fellow inner
planet, or at least for not handing over the Ceres security contract to Mars.
The scattershot reaction of the Belt ran the gamut from pleasure at seeing
Earthâ s influence fall back down the gravity well, to strident near-panic at
the loss of Ceresâ neutrality , to conspiracy theories that Earth was
fomenting the war for its own ends.
Miller reserved judgment.
âI always think of pews.â
Miller looked over. The man sitting next to him was about Miller âs
age; the fringe of gray hair, the soft belly . The manâ s smile told Miller the
guy was a missi onary , out in the vacuum saving souls. Or maybe it was the
name tag and Bible.
âThe seats, I mean,â the missionary said. âThey always make me think
of going to church, the way theyâre all lined up, row after row. Only instead
of a pulpit, we have bunk beds.â
âOur Lady of Sleeping Through It,â Miller said, knowing he was
getting drawn into conversation but unable to stop himself. The missionary
laughed.
âSomething like that,â he said. âDo you attend church?â
âHavenâ t in years,â Miller said. âI was a Methodist when I was
anything. What flavor are you selling?â
The missionary lifted his hands in a gesture of harmlessness that went
back to the African plains of the Pleistocene. I have no weapo n; I seek no
fight.
âIâm just going back to Eros from a conference on Luna,â he said. âMy
proselytizing days are long behind me.â
âI didnâ t think those ever ended,â Miller said.
âThey donât. Not officially . But after a few decades, you come to a
place where you realize that thereâ s really no difference betwee n trying and
not tryin g. I still travel. I still talk to people. Sometimes we talk about Jesus
Christ. Sometim es we talk about cooking. If someone is ready to accept
Christ, it doesnâ t take much effort on my part to help them. If they arenâ t,
no amount of hectoring them does any good. So why try?â
âDo people talk about the war?â Miller asked.
âOften,â the missionary said.
âAnyone make sense of it?â
âNo. I donât believe war ever does. Itâs a madness thatâs in our nature.
Sometimes it recurs; sometimes it subsides.â
âSounds like a disease.â
âThe herpes simplex of the species?â the missionary said with a laugh.
âI suppose there are worse ways to think of it. Iâm afraid that as long as
weâre human, it will be with us.â
Miller looked over at the wide, moon-round face.
âAs long as weâre human?â he said.
âSome of us believe that we shall all eventually become angels,â the
missionary said.
âNot the Methodists.â
âEven them, eventually ,â the man said, âbut they probably wonâ t go
first. And what brings you to Our Lady of Sleeping Through It?â
Miller sighed, sitting back against the unyielding chair . Two rows
down, a young woman shouted at two boys to stop jumping on the seats and
was ignored. A man behind them coughed. Miller took a long breath and let
it out slowly .
âI was a cop on Ceres,â he said.
âAh. The change of contract.â
âThat,â Miller said.
âTaking up work on Eros, then?â
âMore looking up an old friend,â Miller said. Then, to his own
surprise, he went on. âI was born on Ceres. Lived there my whole life. This
is the⌠fifth? Y eah, fifth time Iâve been of f station.â
âDo you plan to go back?â
âNo,â Miller said. He sounded more certain that heâd known. âNo, I
think that part of my life is pretty much over .â
âThat must be painful,â the missionary said.
Miller paused, letting the comm ent settle. The man was right; it should
have been painful. Everything heâd ever had was gone. His job, his
community . He wasnâ t even a cop anymore, his checked-in-luggage
Arrival at Eros Station
- Miller reflects on leaving his life on Ceres behind, feeling a surprising sense of relief rather than the expected grief over his lost identity.
- Eros Station is described as the historic birthplace of the Belt, having transitioned from a primary industrial hub to a center for ship repair and vice.
- The local economy of Eros thrives on low docking fees and high-profit distractions like casinos, brothels, and staged death matches.
- Upon arriving ahead of the Rocinante, Miller experiences a mental projection of Julie Mao before being confronted by an old acquaintance, Inspector Sematimba.
He probed himself like a doctor searching for inflammation. Did it hurt here? Did he feel the loss there? He didnât.
surprise, he went on. âI was born on Ceres. Lived there my whole life. This
is the⌠fifth? Y eah, fifth time Iâve been of f station.â
âDo you plan to go back?â
âNo,â Miller said. He sounded more certain that heâd known. âNo, I
think that part of my life is pretty much over .â
âThat must be painful,â the missionary said.
Miller paused, letting the comm ent settle. The man was right; it should
have been painful. Everything heâd ever had was gone. His job, his
community . He wasnâ t even a cop anymore, his checked-in-luggage
handgun notwith standing. He would never eat at the little East Indian cart at
the edge of sector nine again. The receptionist at the station would never
nod her greeting to him as he headed in for his desk again. No more nights
at the bar with the other cops, no more off-color stories about busts gone
weird, no more kids flying kites in the high tunnels. He probed himself like
a doctor searching for inflammation. Did it hurt here? Did he feel the loss
there?
He didnât. There was only a sense of relief so profound it approached
giddiness.
âIâm sorry ,â the missionary said, confused. âDid I say something
funny?â
Eros supported a population of one and a half million, a little more than
Ceres had in visitors at any given time. Roughly the shape of a potato, it
had been much more difficult to spin up, and its surface velocity was
considerably higher than Ceresâ for the same internal g. The old shipyards
protruded from the asteroid, great spiderwebs of steel and carbon mesh
studded with warning lights and sensor arrays to wave off any ships that
might come in too tight. The internal caverns of Eros had been the
birthplace of the Belt. From raw ore to smelting furnace to annealing
platform and then into the spines of water haulers and gas harvesters and
prospecting ships. Eros had been a port of call in the first generation of
humanityâ s expansion. From there, the sun itself was only a bright star
among billions.
The economics of the Belt had moved on. Ceres Station had spun up
with newer docks, more industr ial backing, more people. The commerce of
shipping moved to Ceres, while Eros remained a center of ship manufacture
and repair . The results were as predictable as physics. On Ceres, a longer
time in dock meant lost money , and the berth fee structure reflec ted that. On
Eros, a ship might wait for weeks or months without impeding the flow of
traffic. If a crew wanted a place to relax, to stretch, to get away from one
another for a while, Eros was the port of call. And with the lower docking
fees, Eros Station found other ways to soak money from its visitors:
Casinos. Brothe ls. Shooting galleries. Vice in all its commercial forms
found a home in Eros, its local economy blooming like a fungus fed by the
desires of Belters.
A happy accident of orbital mechanics put Miller there half a day
ahead of the Rocinante. He walked through the cheap casinos, the opioid
bars and sex clubs, the show fight areas where men or women pretended to
beat one another senseless for the pleasure of the crowds. Miller imagined
Julie walking with him, her sly smile matching his own as he read the great
animated displays. RANDOLPH MAK, HOLDER OF THE BELT FREEFIGHT
CHAMPIONSHIP FOR SIX YEARS, AGAINST MAR TIAN KIVRIN CARMI CHAEL IN A
FIGHT T O THE DEA TH!
Surely not fixed, Julie said drily in his mind.
Wonder which oneâs going to win, he thought, and imagined her
laughing.
Heâd stopped at a noodle cart, two new yensâ worth of egg noodles in
black sauce steaming in their cone, when a hand clapped on his shoulder .
âDetective Mille r,â a familiar voice said. âI think youâre outsid e your
jurisdiction.â
âWhy , Inspector Sematimba,â Miller said. âAs I live and breathe. You
give a girl the shakes, sneaking up like that.â
Sematimba laughed. He was a tall man, even among Belters, with the
darkest skin Miller had ever seen. Years before, Sematimba and Miller had
Reunion on Eros
- Detective Miller reunites with Inspector Sematimba, an old contact from a previous cross-station investigation, while on Eros.
- Sematimba reveals that security on Eros has deteriorated since Protogen was replaced by a corrupt and amateurish Lunar corporation called CPM.
- Miller admits he is no longer working officially but is pursuing the Julie Mao abduction case on his own terms.
- The conversation turns serious when Miller suggests that the Mao case is directly linked to the escalating threat of interplanetary war.
- Sematimba expresses deep concern over the local instability and warns Miller to keep a low profile to avoid further trouble.
âHow big are we talking about?â Sematimba said. All trace of jocularity had vanished from his expression. He was all cop now.
Wonder which oneâs going to win, he thought, and imagined her
laughing.
Heâd stopped at a noodle cart, two new yensâ worth of egg noodles in
black sauce steaming in their cone, when a hand clapped on his shoulder .
âDetective Mille r,â a familiar voice said. âI think youâre outsid e your
jurisdiction.â
âWhy , Inspector Sematimba,â Miller said. âAs I live and breathe. You
give a girl the shakes, sneaking up like that.â
Sematimba laughed. He was a tall man, even among Belters, with the
darkest skin Miller had ever seen. Years before, Sematimba and Miller had
coordinated on a particularly ugly case. A smuggler with a cargo of
designer euphor ics had broken with his supplier . Three people on Ceres had
been caught in the crossfire, and the smuggler had shipped out for Eros. The
traditional competitiveness and insularity of the stationsâ respective security
forces had almost let the perp slip away . Only Miller and Sematimba had
been willing to coordinate outside the corporate channels.
âWhat brings you,â Sematimba said, leaning against a thin steel railing
and gesturing at the tunnel, âto the navel of the Belt, the glory and power
that is Eros?â
âFollowing up on a lead,â Miller said.
âThereâ s nothing good here,â Sematimba said. âEver since Protogen
pulled out, things have been going from bad to worse.â
Miller sucked up a noodle.
âWhoâ s the new contract?â he asked.
âCPM,â Sematimba said.
âNever heard of them.â
âCarne Por la Machina, â Sema timba said, and pulled a face:
exaggerated bluff masculinity . He thumped his breast and growled, then let
the imitation go and shook his head. âNew corporation out of Luna. Mostly
Belters on the ground. Make themselves out to be all hard core, but theyâre
mostly amateurs. All bluster , no balls. Protogen was inner planets, and that
was a problem, but they were serious as hell. They broke heads, but they
kept the peace. These new assholes? Most corrupt bunch of thugs Iâve ever
worked for. I donât think the board of governors is going to renew when the
contractâ s up. I didnâ t say that, but itâ s true.â
âIâve got an old partner signed up with Protogen,â Miller said.
âTheyâre not bad,â Sematimba said. âAlmost wish Iâd picked them in
the divorce, you know?â
âWhy didnâ t you?â Miller asked.
âYou know how it is. Iâm from here.â
âYeah,â Miller said.
âSo. You didnâ t know who was running the playhouse? You arenâ t here
looking for work.â
âNope,â Miller said. âIâm on sabbatical. Doing some travel for myself
these days.â
âYouâve got money for that?â
âNot really . But I donât mind going on the cheap. For a while, you
know . You heard anything about a Juliette Mao? Goes by Julie?â
Sematimba shook his head.
âMao-Kwikowski Mercantile,â Miller said. âCame up the well and
went native. OP A. It was an abduction case.â
âWas?â
Miller leaned back. His imagined Julie raised her eyebrows.
âItâs changed a little since I got it,â Miller said. âMay be conne cted to
something. Kind of big.â
âHow big are we talking about?â Sematimba said. All trace of
jocularity had vanished from his expression. He was all cop now. Anyone
but Miller would have found the manâ s empty , almost angry face
intimidating.
âThe war ,â Miller said. Sematimba folded his arms.
âBad joke,â he said.
âNot joking.â
âI consider us friends, old man,â Sematimba said. âBut I donât want
any trouble around here. Things are unsettled as it stands.â
âIâll try to stay low-profile.â
Sematimba nodded. Down the tunnel, an alarm blared. Only security ,
not the earsplitting ditone of an environmental alert. Sematimba looked
down the tunnel as if squinting would let him see through the press of
people, bicycles, and food carts.
âIâd better go look,â he said with an air of resignation. âProbably some
of my fellow of ficers of the peace breaking windows for the fun of it.â
âGreat to be part of a team like that,â Miller said.
âHow would you know?â Sema timba said with a smile. âIf you need
somethingâŚâ
The Chaos of Eros
- Miller parts ways with Sematimba as an alarm blares, noting the crowd's total indifference to potential security threats.
- The architecture of Eros is described as a predatory 'cattle run' designed to funnel all foot traffic through sensory-overloading casino levels.
- Miller positions himself at a strategic vantage point in the casino to intercept the crew of the Rocinante as they disembark.
- Holden and his crew arrive on Eros, navigating the crowded gambling halls while secretly armed and wary of the local police.
- The group transitions from the overwhelming noise of the commercial districts to the unsettling silence of the residential levels.
Eros had learned from the flow of money: All paths led to the casino level.
Sematimba nodded. Down the tunnel, an alarm blared. Only security ,
not the earsplitting ditone of an environmental alert. Sematimba looked
down the tunnel as if squinting would let him see through the press of
people, bicycles, and food carts.
âIâd better go look,â he said with an air of resignation. âProbably some
of my fellow of ficers of the peace breaking windows for the fun of it.â
âGreat to be part of a team like that,â Miller said.
âHow would you know?â Sema timba said with a smile. âIf you need
somethingâŚâ
âLikewise,â Miller said, and watched the cop wade into the sea of
chaos and huma nity. He was a large man, but something about the passing
crowdâ s univers al deafness to the alarmâ s blare made him seem smaller . A
stone in the ocean, the phrase went. One star among millions.
Miller checked the time, then pulled up the public docking records.
The Rocinante showed as on schedule. The docking berth was listed. Miller
sucked down the last of his noodles, tossed the foam cone with the thin
smear of black sauce into a public recycler , found the nearest menâs room,
and when he was done there, trotted toward the casino level.
The architecture of Eros had changed since its birth. Where once it had
been like Ceresâwebworked tunnels leading along the path of widest
connectionâEros had learned from the flow of money: All paths led to the
casino level. If you wanted to go anywhere, you passed through the wide
whale belly of lights and displays. Poker , blackjack, roulette, tall fish tanks
filled with prize trout to be caught and gutted, mechanical slots, electronic
slots, cricket races, craps, rigged tests of skill. Flashing lights, dancing neon
clowns, and video screen advertisements blasted the eyes. Loud artificial
laughter and merry whistles and bells assured you that you were having the
time of your life. All while the smell of thousands of people packed into too
small a space competed with the scent of heavily spiced vat-grown meat
being hawked from carts rolling down the corridor . Greed and casino design
had turned Eros into an architectural cattle run.
Which was exactly what Miller needed.
The tube station that arrived from the port had six wide doors, which
emptied to the casino floor . Miller accepted a drink from a tired-looking
woman in a G-string and bared breasts and found a screen to stand at that
afforded him a view of all six doors. The crew of the Rocinante had no
choice but to come through one of those. He checked his hand terminal. The
docking logs showed the ship had arrived ten minutes earlier . Miller
pretended to sip his drink and settled in to wait.
Chapter T wenty-Thr ee
Holden
The casino level of Eros was an all-out assault on the senses. Holden hated
it.
âI love this place,â Amos said, grinning.
Holden pushed his way through a knot of drunk middle-aged gamblers,
who were laughing and yelling, to a small open space near a row of pay-by-
the-minute wall terminals.
âAmos,â he said, âweâll be going to a less touristy level, so watch our
backs. The flophouse weâre looking for is in a rough neighborhood.â
Amos nodded. âGotcha, Cap.â
While Naomi, Alex, and Amos blocked him from view , Holden
reached behind his back to adjust the pistol that pulled uncom fortably on
his waistband. The cops on Eros were pretty uptight about people walking
around with guns, but there was no way he was going to âLione l Polanskiâ
unarmed. Amos and Alex were both carrying too, though Amos kept his in
the right pocket of his jacket and his hand never left it. Only Naomi flatly
refused to carry a gun.
Holden led the group toward the nearest escalators, with Amos, casting
the occasional glance behind, in the rear. The casinos of Eros stretched for
three seemingly endless levels, and even though they moved as quickly as
possible, it took half an hour to get away from the noise and crowds. The
first level above was a residen tial neighborhood and disorientingly quiet
Shadowed on Eros
- The crew of the Rocinante navigates the chaotic casino levels of Eros to reach a residential district while armed and on high alert.
- Amos and Alex express a desire to stay and gamble, contrasting with Holden and Naomi's exhaustion and physical discomfort with the station's noise.
- Amos identifies a middle-aged Belter in a 'goofy hat' who has been tailing the group since they left the casinos.
- Holden maintains a facade of legitimacy regarding their 'stolen' Martian warship, hoping their forged paperwork holds up against local authorities.
- Amidst the tension of being followed, Holden experiences a moment of deep fatigue and a longing for a peaceful vacation on Titan.
âSomebodyâ s following us, Cap,â he said conversationally . âWasnât sure till he climbed on a couple cars down.â
around with guns, but there was no way he was going to âLione l Polanskiâ
unarmed. Amos and Alex were both carrying too, though Amos kept his in
the right pocket of his jacket and his hand never left it. Only Naomi flatly
refused to carry a gun.
Holden led the group toward the nearest escalators, with Amos, casting
the occasional glance behind, in the rear. The casinos of Eros stretched for
three seemingly endless levels, and even though they moved as quickly as
possible, it took half an hour to get away from the noise and crowds. The
first level above was a residen tial neighborhood and disorientingly quiet
and neat after the casinoâ s chaos and noise. Holden sat down on the edge of
a planter with a nice array of ferns in it and caught his breath.
âIâm with you, Captain. Five minutes in that place gives me a
headache,â Naomi said, and sat down next to him.
âYou kidding me?â Amos said. âI wish we had more time. Alex and I
took almost a grand off those fish at the Tycho card tables. Weâd probably
walk out of here fucking millionaires.â
âYou know it,â Alex said, and punched the big mechanic on the
shoulder .
âWell, if this Polanski thing turns out to be nothing, you have my
permission to go make us a million dollars at the card tables. Iâll wait for
you on the ship,â Holden said.
The tube system ended at the first casino level and didnâ t start again
until the level they were on. You could choose not to spend your money at
the tables, but they made sure you were punished for doing so. Once the
crew had climbed into a car and started the ride to Lionelâ s hotel, Amos sat
down next to Holden.
âSomebodyâ s following us, Cap,â he said conversationally . âWasnât
sure till he climbed on a couple cars down. Behind us all through the
casinos too.â
Holden sighed and put his face in his hands.
âOkay , whatâ s he look like?â he said.
âBelter . Fifties, or maybe forties with a lot mileage. White shirt and
dark pants. Goofy hat.â
âCop?â
âOh yeah. But no holster I can see,â Amos said.
âAll right. Keep an eye on him, but no need to get too worried.
Nothing weâre doing here is illegal,â Holden said.
âYou mean, other than arriving in our stolen Martian warship, sir?â
Naomi asked.
âYou mean our perfectly legitimate gas freighter that all the paperwork
and registry data says is perfectly legitimate ?â Holden replied with a thin
smile. âYeah, well, if theyâd seen through that, they would have stopped us
at the dock, not followed us around.â
An advertising screen on the wall displayed a stunning view of
multicolored clouds rippling with flashes of lightning, and encouraged
Holden to take a trip to the amazing dome resorts on Titan. Heâd never been
to Titan. Suddenly he wanted to go there very much. A few weeks of
sleeping late, eating in fine restaurants, and lying on a hammock, watching
Titanâs colorful atmosphere storm above him sounded like heav en. Hell, as
Ambush at the Flophouse
- Holden and his crew confirm they are being followed while navigating a transit system toward a meeting with Lionel Polanski.
- The team arrives at a dingy flophouse, finding the lobby nearly empty except for a woman who appears to be a local resident.
- A tense standoff ensues when the woman reveals a concealed weapon and demands the crew follow her to the stairwell.
- The situation escalates into a violent ambush as a tactical team bursts through the doors and opens fire on Holden's crew.
Amos pulled his heavy slug thrower out and aimed it at her face. 'Mineâs bigger,' he said.
and registry data says is perfectly legitimate ?â Holden replied with a thin
smile. âYeah, well, if theyâd seen through that, they would have stopped us
at the dock, not followed us around.â
An advertising screen on the wall displayed a stunning view of
multicolored clouds rippling with flashes of lightning, and encouraged
Holden to take a trip to the amazing dome resorts on Titan. Heâd never been
to Titan. Suddenly he wanted to go there very much. A few weeks of
sleeping late, eating in fine restaurants, and lying on a hammock, watching
Titanâs colorful atmosphere storm above him sounded like heav en. Hell, as
long as he was fantasizing, he threw in Naomi walking over to his
hammock with a couple of fruity-looking drinks in her hands.
She ruined it by talking.
âThis is our stop,â she said.
âAmos, watch our friend, see if he gets off the train with us,â Holden
said as he got up and headed to the door .
After they got off and walked a dozen steps down the corridor , Amos
whispered, âYep,â at his back. Shit. Well, definitely a tail, but there wasnâ t
really any reason not to go ahead and check up on Lionel. Fred hadnâ t asked
them to do anything with whoever was pretending to be the Scopuli âs
owner . They couldnât very well be arrested for knocking on a door. Holden
whistled a loud and jaunty tune as he walked, to let his crew and whoever
was following them know he wasnâ t worried about a thing.
He stopped when he saw the flophouse.
It was dark and dingy and exactly the sort of place where people got
mugged or worse. Broken lights created dark corners, and there wasnâ t a
tourist in sight. He turned to give Alex and Amos meaningful looks, and
Amos shifted his hand in his pocket. Alex reached under his coat.
The lobby was mostly empty space, with a pair of couches at one end
next to a table covered with magazines. A sleepy-looking older woman sat
reading one. Elevators were recessed into the wall at the far end, next to a
door marked STAIRS. In the middle was the check-in desk, where, in lieu of a
human clerk, a touch screen terminal let guests pay for their rooms.
Holden stopped next to the desk and turned around to look at the
woman sitting on the couch. Graying hair, but good features and an athletic
build. In a flophouse like this, that probably meant a prostitute reaching the
end of her shelf life. She pointedly ignored his stare.
âIs our tail still with us?â Holden asked in a quiet voice.
âStopped outside somewhere. Probably just watching the door now,â
Amos replied.
Holden nodded and hit the inquiry button on the check-in screen. A
simple menu would let him send a message to Lionel Polanskiâ s room, but
Holden exited the system. They knew Lionel was still checked in, and Fred
had given them the room number. If it was someone playing games, no
reason to give him a heads-up before Holden knocked on the door .
âOkay , heâs still here, so letâsââ Holden said, and then stopped when
he saw the woman from the couch standing right behind Alex. He hadnâ t
heard or seen her approach.
âYou need to come with me,â she said in a hard voice. âWalk to the
stairwell slowly , stay at least three meters ahead of me the entire time. Do it
now.â
âAre you a cop?â Holden asked, not moving.
âIâm the person with the gun,â she said, a small weapon appeari ng like
magic in her right hand. She pointed it at Alexâ s head. âSo do what I say .â
Her weapon was small and plastic and had some kind of battery pack.
Amos pulled his heavy slug thrower out and aimed it at her face.
âMineâ s bigger ,â he said.
âAmos, donâtââ was all Naomi had time to say before the stairwell
door burst open and half a dozen men and women armed with compact
automatic weapons came into the room, yelling at them to drop their guns.
Holden started to put his hands up when one of them opened fire, the
weapon coughing out rounds so fast it sounded like someone ripping
construction paper; it was impossible to hear the separate shots. Amos
Hotel Lobby Ambush
- A tense standoff between Holdenâs crew and an armed woman escalates into a chaotic firefight when a tactical team storms the room.
- Amos and Alex engage in a desperate exchange of gunfire from behind cover while the woman with the taser is killed in the initial volley.
- A mysterious man in a hat, who had been tailing the group, intervenes by shooting a flanker and providing cover against the attackers in the stairwell.
- Holden and Naomi debate the identity of their attackers, concluding that the use of concealable machine guns and ambush tactics suggests they are not law enforcement.
Mineâ s bigger ,â he said. âAmos, donâtââ was all Naomi had time to say before the stairwell door burst open and half a dozen men and women armed with compact automatic weapons came into the room, yelling at them to drop their guns.
âAre you a cop?â Holden asked, not moving.
âIâm the person with the gun,â she said, a small weapon appeari ng like
magic in her right hand. She pointed it at Alexâ s head. âSo do what I say .â
Her weapon was small and plastic and had some kind of battery pack.
Amos pulled his heavy slug thrower out and aimed it at her face.
âMineâ s bigger ,â he said.
âAmos, donâtââ was all Naomi had time to say before the stairwell
door burst open and half a dozen men and women armed with compact
automatic weapons came into the room, yelling at them to drop their guns.
Holden started to put his hands up when one of them opened fire, the
weapon coughing out rounds so fast it sounded like someone ripping
construction paper; it was impossible to hear the separate shots. Amos
threw himself to the floor . A line of bullet holes stitched across the chest of
the woman with the taser , and she fell backward with a soft, final sound.
Holden grabbed Naomi by one hand and dragged her behind the
check-in desk. Someone in the other group was yelling, âCease fire! Cease
fire!â but Amos was already shooting back from his position, prone on the
floor . A yelp of pain and a curse told Holden heâd probably hit someone.
Amos rolled sideways to the desk, just in time to avoid a hail of slugs that
tore up the floor and wall and made the desk shudder .
Holden reached for his gun, but the front sight caught in his waistband.
He yanked it out, tearing his underwear , then crawled on his knees to the
edge of the desk and looked out. Alex was lying on the floor on the other
side of one of the couches, gun drawn and face white. As Holden looked, a
burst of gunfire hit the couch, blowing stuffing into the air and making a
line of holes in the back of the couch not more than twenty centimeters
above Alexâs head. The pilot reached his pistol around the corner of the
couch and blindly fired of f half a dozen shots, yelling at the same time.
âFucking asshol es!â Amos yelled, then rolled out and fired a couple
more shots and rolled back before the return fire started.
âWhere are they?â Holden yelled at him.
âTwo are down, the rest in the stairwell!â Amos yelled back over the
sound of return fire.
Out of nowhere a burst of rounds bounced off the floor past Holdenâ s
knee. âShit, someoneâ s flanking us!â Amos cried out, then moved farther
behind the desk and away from the shots.
Holden crawled to the other side of the desk and peeked out. Someone
was moving low and fast toward the hotel entrance. Holden leaned out and
took a couple shots at him, but three guns opened up from the stairwell
doorway and forced him back behind the desk.
âAlex, someoneâ s moving to the entrance!â Holden screamed at the top
of his lungs, hoping the pilot might be able to get off a shot before they
were all chopped to pieces by crossfire.
A pistol barked three times by the entrance. Holden risked a look.
Their tail with the goofy hat crouched by the door, a gun in his hand, the
machine gunâtoting flanker lying still at his feet. Instead of looking at them,
the tail was pointing his gun toward the stairwell.
âNo one shoot the guy with the hat!â Holden yelled, then moved back
to the edge of the desk.
Amos put his back to the desk and popped the magazine from his gun.
As he fumbled around in his pocket for another , he said, âGuy is probably a
cop.â
âExtra especially do not shoot any cops, â Holden said, then fired a few
shots at the stairwell door .
Naomi, whoâd spent the entire gunfight so far on the floor with her
arms over her head, said, âThey might all be cops.â
Holden squeezed of f a few more shots and shook his head.
âCops donât carry small, easily concealable machine guns and ambush
Ambush at the Kiosk
- Jim Holden and his crew survive a chaotic firefight in a lobby after being pinned down by a death squad in a stairwell.
- A mysterious man in a hat, who had been tailing the group, intervenes and kills one of the attackers to save them.
- Holden mistakenly assumes their savior is a police officer, but the man reveals himself to be a cynical investigator named Miller.
- Miller analyzes the scene with a professional detachment, noting that the ambush was a sloppy, improvised effort that nearly succeeded regardless.
- The group realizes they must act quickly to avoid being arrested by the actual station authorities arriving on the scene.
The other man laughed; it was a bitter, short sound, but with some real humor behind it. Apparently Holden had said something funny. 'Nope. Nameâs Miller.'
of his lungs, hoping the pilot might be able to get off a shot before they
were all chopped to pieces by crossfire.
A pistol barked three times by the entrance. Holden risked a look.
Their tail with the goofy hat crouched by the door, a gun in his hand, the
machine gunâtoting flanker lying still at his feet. Instead of looking at them,
the tail was pointing his gun toward the stairwell.
âNo one shoot the guy with the hat!â Holden yelled, then moved back
to the edge of the desk.
Amos put his back to the desk and popped the magazine from his gun.
As he fumbled around in his pocket for another , he said, âGuy is probably a
cop.â
âExtra especially do not shoot any cops, â Holden said, then fired a few
shots at the stairwell door .
Naomi, whoâd spent the entire gunfight so far on the floor with her
arms over her head, said, âThey might all be cops.â
Holden squeezed of f a few more shots and shook his head.
âCops donât carry small, easily concealable machine guns and ambush
people from stairwells. W e call those death squads,â he said, though most of
his word s were drowned out by a barrage of gunfire from the stairwell.
Afterward came a few seconds of silence.
Holden leaned back out in time to see the door swing shut.
âI think theyâre bugging out,â he said, keeping his gun trained on the
door anyway. âMust have another exit somewhere. Amos, keep your eye on
that door. If it opens, start shooting.â He patted Naomi on the shoulder .
âStay down.â
Holden rose from behind the now ruined check-in kiosk. The desk
facade had splintered and the underlying stone showed through. Holden
held his gun barrel-up, his hands open. The man in the hat stood,
considering the corpse at his feet, then looked up as Holden came near .
âThanks. My name is Jim Holden. Y ou are?â
The man didnâ t speak for a second. When he did, his voice was calm.
Almost weary . âCops will be here soon. I need to make a call or weâre all
going to jail.â
âArenâ t you the cops?â Holden asked.
The other man laughed; it was a bitter , short sound, but with some real
humor behind it. Apparently Holden had said something funny .
âNope. Nameâ s Miller .â
Chapter T wenty-Four
Miller
Miller looked at the dead manâthe man heâd just killedâand tried to feel
something. There was the trailing adrenaline rush still ramping up his
heartbeat. There was a sense of surprise that came from walking into an
unexpected firefight. Past that, though, his mind had already fallen into the
long habit of analysis. One plant in the main room so Holden and his crew
wouldnâ t see anything too threatening. A bunch of trigger -happy yahoos in
the stairwell to back her up. That had gone well.
It was a slapdash ef fort. The ambush had been set by people who either
didnâ t know what they were doing or didnâ t have the time or resources to do
it right. If it hadnât been improvised, Holden and his three buddies would
have been taken or killed. And him along with them.
The four survivors of the Canterbury stood in the remains of the
firefight like rookies at their first bust. Miller felt his mind shift back half a
step as he watched everything without watching anything in particular .
Holden was smaller than heâd expected from the video feeds. It shouldnâ t
have been surprising; he was an Earther . The man had the kind of face that
was bad at hiding things.
âThanks. My name is Jim Holden. Y ou are?â
Miller thought of six different answers and turned them all aside. One
of the othersâa big man, solid, with a bare scalpâwas pacing out the
room, his eyes unfocused the same way Miller âs were. Of Holdenâ s four,
that was the only guy whoâd seen serious gunplay before.
âThe cops will be here soon,â Miller said. âI need to make a call or
weâre all going to jail.â
A Tense First Meeting
- Detective Miller finally makes contact with Jim Holden and his crew following a chaotic and violent firefight.
- Miller assesses the group's dynamics, noting Holden's leadership burdens and identifying the 'big man' as the only one with combat experience.
- Despite the heavy gunfire, Miller realizes with concern that station security has not responded, suggesting a systemic interference.
- Miller contacts his local police connection, Sematimba, to mitigate the legal fallout while admitting he was following Holden's crew.
- The crew remains suspicious of Miller's motives, even though he saved their lives during the ambush.
Miller looked at the chaos and ruin around them. About a thousand different alerts should have gone out with the first weapon fired.
firefight like rookies at their first bust. Miller felt his mind shift back half a
step as he watched everything without watching anything in particular .
Holden was smaller than heâd expected from the video feeds. It shouldnâ t
have been surprising; he was an Earther . The man had the kind of face that
was bad at hiding things.
âThanks. My name is Jim Holden. Y ou are?â
Miller thought of six different answers and turned them all aside. One
of the othersâa big man, solid, with a bare scalpâwas pacing out the
room, his eyes unfocused the same way Miller âs were. Of Holdenâ s four,
that was the only guy whoâd seen serious gunplay before.
âThe cops will be here soon,â Miller said. âI need to make a call or
weâre all going to jail.â
The other manâthinner , taller , East Indian by the look of himâhad
been hiding behind a couch. He was sitting on his haunches now, his eyes
wide and panick y. Holden had some of the same look, but he was doing a
better job of keeping control. The burdens, Miller thought, of leadership.
âArenâ t you the cops?â
Miller laughed.
âNope,â he said. âNameâ s Miller .â
âOkay ,â the woman said. âThos e people just tried to kill us. Why did
they do that?â
Holden took a half step toward her voice even before he turned to look
at her. Her face was flushed, full lips pressed thin and pale. Her features
showed a far-flung racial mix that was unusual even in the melting pot of
the Belt. Her hands werenâ t shaking. The big one had the most experience,
but Miller put the woman down as having the best instincts.
âYeah,â Miller said. âI noticed.â
He pulled out his hand terminal and opened a link to Sematimb a. The
cop accepted a few seconds later .
âSemi,â Miller said. âIâm really sorry about this, but you know how I
was going stay low-profile?â
âYes?â the local cop said, drawing the word out to three syllables.
âDidnâ t work out. I was heading to a meeting with a friendâŚâ
âA meet ing with a friend,â Sematimba echoed. Miller could imagine
the manâ s crossed arms even thought they didnâ t show in the frame.
âAnd I happened to see a bunch of tourists in the wrong place at the
wrong time. It got out of hand.â
âWhere are you?â Sematimba asked. Miller gave him the station level
and address. There was a long pause while Sematimba consulted with some
internal communication software that would have been part of Millerâs tool
set once. The manâs sigh was percussive. âI donât see anything. Were there
shots fired?â
Miller looked at the chaos and ruin around them. About a thousand
different alerts should have gone out with the first weapon fired. Security
should have been swarming toward them.
âA few ,â he said.
âStrange,â Sematimba said. âStay put. Iâll be there.â
âWill do,â Miller said, and dropped the connection.
âOkay ,â Holden said. âWho was that?â
âThe real cops,â Miller said. âTheyâll be here soon. Itâll be fine.â
I think itâll be fine. It occur red to him that he was treating the situation
like he was still on the inside , a part of the machine. That wasnâ t true
anymore, and pretending it was might have consequences.
âHe was following us,â the woman said to Holden. And then, to
Miller , she said, âY ou were following us.â
âI was,â Miller said. He didnâ t think he sounded rueful, but the big guy
shook his head.
âIt was the hat,â the big one said. âStood out some.â
Miller swept off his porkpie and considered it. Of course the big one
had been the one to make him. The other three were competent amateurs,
and Miller knew that Holden had done some time in the UN Navy . But
Miller gave it better than even money that the big oneâs backgr ound check
would be interesting reading.
âWhy were you following us?â Holden asked. âI mean, I appreciate
the part where you shot the people who were shooting at us, but Iâd still like
to know that first part.â
âI wanted to talk to you,â Miller said. âIâm looking for someone.â
A Tense Alliance
- Detective Miller confronts Holden and his crew after a violent firefight, revealing he has been tracking them to find a lead on the Scopuli.
- Holden and his team are initially suspicious of Miller's motives and his knowledge of their survival on the Donnager.
- The crew's muscle, Amos, breaks the tension by vouching for Miller because the detective helped them during the shootout.
- Both parties realize they are searching for the same person from the Scopuli, who is believed to be inside the flophouse.
- Despite the approaching Eros security and the threat of more gunmen, Miller decides to push forward into the cramped corridors to find his target.
The big guy had fallen in behind Holden, his face a friendly cipher: No trouble, unless there was trouble, and then maybe a whole lot of trouble.
Miller swept off his porkpie and considered it. Of course the big one
had been the one to make him. The other three were competent amateurs,
and Miller knew that Holden had done some time in the UN Navy . But
Miller gave it better than even money that the big oneâs backgr ound check
would be interesting reading.
âWhy were you following us?â Holden asked. âI mean, I appreciate
the part where you shot the people who were shooting at us, but Iâd still like
to know that first part.â
âI wanted to talk to you,â Miller said. âIâm looking for someone.â
There was a pause. Holden smiled.
âAnyone in particular?â he asked.
âA crew member of the Scopuli, â Miller said.
âThe Scopuli ?â Hold en said. He started to glance at the woman and
stopped himself. There was something there. The Scopuli meant something
to him beyond what Miller had seen on the news.
âThere was nobody on her when we got there,â the woman said.
âHoly shit,â the shaky one behin d the couch said. It was the first thing
heâd said since the firefight ended, and he repeated it five or six more times
in quick succession.
âWhat about you?â Miller asked. âDonnager blew you to Tycho, and
now here. Whatâ s that about?â
âHow did you know that?â Holden said.
âItâs my job,â Miller said. âW ell, it used to be.â
The answer didnâ t appear to satisfy the Earther . The big guy had fallen
in behin d Holde n, his face a friendly cipher: No trouble, unles s there was
trouble, and then maybe a whole lot of trouble. Miller nodded , half to the
big guy , half to himself.
âI had a contact in the OPA who told me you didnâ t die on the
Donnager ,â Miller said.
âThey just told you that?â the woman asked, banked outrage in her
voice.
âHe was making a point at the time,â Miller said. âAnyway , he said it,
and I took it from there. And in about ten minutes, Iâm going to make sure
Eros security doesnâ t throw all of you in a hole, and me with you. So if
thereâ s anything at all you want to tell meâlike what youâre doing here, for
instanceâthis would be the right time.â
The silence was broken only by the sound of recyclers laboring to
clear the smoke and particulate dust of gunfire. The shaky one stood.
Something abou t the way he held himself looked military . Ex-something,
Miller assumed , but not a ground pounder . Navy , maybe; Martian at a
guess. He had the vocal twang some of them af fected.
âAh, fuck it, Capân,â the big one said. âHe shot the flank guy for us.
He may be an asshole, but heâ s okay by me.â
âThank you, Amos,â Holden said. Miller filed that. The big one was
Amos. Holden put his hands behind his back, returning his gun to his
waistband.
âWeâre here to look for someone too,â he said. âProbably someone
from the Scopuli. We were just double-checking the room when everyone
decided to start shooting at us.â
âHere?â Miller said. Something like emotion trickled into his veins.
Not hope, but dread. âSomeone of f the Scopuli is in this flop right now?â
âWe think so,â Holden said.
Miller looked out the flophouse lobbyâ s front doors. A small, curious
crowd had started to gather in the tunnel. Crossed arms, nervo us glances.
He knew how they felt. Semat imba and his police were on the way. The
gunmen whoâd attacked Holden and his crew werenâ t mounting another
attack, but that didnâ t mean they were gone. There might be another wave.
They could have fallen back to a better position to wait for Holden to
advance.
But what if Julie was here right now? How could he come this far and
stop in the lobby? To his surprise, he still had his gun drawn. That was
unprofessional. He should have holstered it. The only other one still drawn
was the Martianâ s. Miller shook his head. Sloppy . He needed to stop that.
Still, he had more than half a magazine left in the pistol.
âWhat room?â he asked.
The flophouse corridors were thin and cramped. The walls had the
impervious gloss of warehouse paint, and the carpet was carbon-silicate
The Threshold of Room 22
- Miller and Holden's group navigate a cramped, tactical nightmare of a flophouse corridor while searching for Julie.
- A stark contrast in methods emerges as Miller prepares for a tactical breach while Holden chooses to knock and call out.
- Amos forces the door open despite a lingering leg injury, revealing a pitch-black room that lacks power.
- Upon entering, Miller detects a concerning astringent odor mixed with a more ominous, unpleasant smell of decay.
Inside, it was as black as a cave. No lights came on, not even the dim glow of monitors and sensory devices.
attack, but that didnâ t mean they were gone. There might be another wave.
They could have fallen back to a better position to wait for Holden to
advance.
But what if Julie was here right now? How could he come this far and
stop in the lobby? To his surprise, he still had his gun drawn. That was
unprofessional. He should have holstered it. The only other one still drawn
was the Martianâ s. Miller shook his head. Sloppy . He needed to stop that.
Still, he had more than half a magazine left in the pistol.
âWhat room?â he asked.
The flophouse corridors were thin and cramped. The walls had the
impervious gloss of warehouse paint, and the carpet was carbon-silicate
weave that would wear out more slowly than bare stone. Miller and Holden
went first, then the woman and the MartianâNaomi and Alex, their names
wereâthen Amos, trailing and looking back over his shoulder . Miller
wondered if anyone but he and Amos understood how they were keeping
the others safe. Holden seemed to know and be irritated by it; he kept
edging ahead.
The doors of the rooms were identical fiberglass laminate s, thin
enough to be churned out by the thousand. Miller had kicked in a hundred
like them in his career . A few here and there were decorated by longtime
residentsâwith a painting of improbably red flowers, a whiteboard with a
string where a pen had once been attached, a cheap reproduction of an
obscene cartoon acting out its punch line in a dimly glowing infinite loop.
Tactically , it was a nightmare. If the ambushing forces stepped out of
doors in front of and behind them, all five could be slaughtered in seconds.
But no slugs flew, and the only door that opened disgor ged an emaciated,
long-bearded man with imperfect eyes and a slack mouth. Miller nodded at
the man as they passed, and he nodded back, possibly more surprised by
someoneâ s ackn owledging his presence than by the drawn pistols. Holden
stopped.
âThis is it,â he murmured. âThis is the room.â
Miller nodded. The others came up in a clump, Amos casually hanging
back, his eyes on the corridor retreating behind them. Miller considered the
door. It would be easy to kick in. One strong blow just above the latch
mechanism. Then he could go in low and to the left, Amos high and to the
right. He wished Havelock were there. Tactics were simpler for people
whoâd trained together . He motioned Amos to come up close.
Holden knocked on the door .
âWhat are youâŚ?â Miller whispered fiercely , but Holden ignored him.
âHello?â Holden called. âAnyone there?â
Miller tensed. Nothing happened. No voice, no gunfire. Nothing.
Holden seemed perfectly at ease with the risk heâd just taken. From the
expression on Naomiâ s face, Miller took it this wasnâ t the first time heâd
done things this way .
âYou want that open?â Amos said.
âKinda do,â Miller said at the same moment Holden said, âYeah, kick
it down.â
Amos looked from one to the other, not moving until Holden nodded
at him. Then Amos shifted past them, kicked the door open in one blow ,
and staggered back, cussing.
âYou okay?â Miller asked.
The big man nodded once through a pale grimace.
âYeah, busted my leg a while back. Cast just came off. Keep forgetting
about that,â he said.
Miller turned back to the room. Inside, it was as black as a cave. No
lights came on, not even the dim glow of monitors and senso ry devices.
Miller stepped in, pistol drawn. Holden was close behind him. The floor
made the crunching sound of gravel under their feet, and there was an odd
astringent smell that Miller associated with broken screens. Behind it was
another smell, much less pleasant. He chose not to think about that one.
âHello?â Miller said. âAnyone here?â
âTurn on the lights,â Naomi said from behind them. Miller heard
Holden patting the wall panel, but no light came up.
âTheyâre not working,â Holden said.
The dim spill from the corridor gave almost nothing. Miller kept his
The Discovery of Julie Mao
- Miller and Holden's team enter a dark, vandalized room on Eros searching for Julie Mao.
- The room shows signs of a strange struggle or deliberate destruction, including a shattered entertainment console and an abandoned hand terminal.
- Miller discovers a dark, organic fluid leading toward the bathroom, accompanied by an overwhelming, nauseating smell of decay and growth.
- Inside the shower, they find the body of Julie Mao, horrifically transformed by an alien biological growth that has distorted her anatomy.
- Miller is devastated by the sight of the girl he has been tracking, realizing she has been subjected to an unimaginable and lethal experiment.
Coils of complex growth spilled from her mouth, ears, and vulva.
Miller stepped in, pistol drawn. Holden was close behind him. The floor
made the crunching sound of gravel under their feet, and there was an odd
astringent smell that Miller associated with broken screens. Behind it was
another smell, much less pleasant. He chose not to think about that one.
âHello?â Miller said. âAnyone here?â
âTurn on the lights,â Naomi said from behind them. Miller heard
Holden patting the wall panel, but no light came up.
âTheyâre not working,â Holden said.
The dim spill from the corridor gave almost nothing. Miller kept his
gun steady in his right hand, ready to empty it toward muzzle flash if
anyone opened fire from the darkness. With his left, he took out his hand
terminal, thumbed on the backlight, and opened a blank white writing
tablet. The room came into monochrome. Beside him, Holden did the same.
A thin bed pressed against one wall, a narrow tray beside it. The
bedding was knotted like the remnant of a bad nightâ s sleep. A closet stood
open, empty. The hulking form of an empty vacuum suit lay on the floor
like a mannequ in with a misp laced head. An old entertainment console
hung on the wall across from the cot, its screen shattered by half a dozen
blows. The wall was dimpled where blows intended to bread the LED
sconces had missed. Another hand terminal added its glow , and another .
Hints of color started to come into the roomâthe cheap gold of the walls,
the green of the blankets and sheet. Under the cot, something glimmered.
An older -model hand terminal. Miller crouched as the others stepped in.
âShit,â Amos said.
âOkay ,â Holden said. âNobody touches anything. Period. Nothing.â It
was the most sensible thing Miller had heard the man say .
âSomeone put up a bitch of a fight,â Amos muttered.
âNo,â Miller said. It had been vandalism, maybe. It hadnâ t been a
struggle. He pulled a thin-film evidence bag out of his pocket and turned it
inside out over his hand like a glove before picking up the terminal, flipping
the plastic over it, and setting of f the sealing char ge.
âIs that⌠blood?â Naomi asked, pointing to the cheap foam mattress.
Wet streaks pooled on the sheet and pillow , not more than a fingersâ width,
but dark. T oo dark even for blood.
âNo,â Miller said, shoving the terminal into his pocket.
The fluid marked a thin path toward the bathroom. Miller raised a
hand, pushing the others back as he crept toward the half-open door. Inside
the bathroom, the nasty background smell was much stronger . Something
deep, organic, and intimate. Manure in a hothouse, or the aftermath of sex,
or a slaughterhouse. All of them. The toilet was brushed steel, the same
model they used in prisons. The sink matched. The LED above it and the
one in the ceilin g had both been destroyed. In the light of his terminal, like
the glow of a single candle, black tendrils reached from the shower stall
toward the ruined lights, bent and branching like skeletal leaves.
In the shower stall, Juliette Andromeda Mao lay dead.
Her eyes were closed, and that was a mercy . Sheâd cut her hair
differently since sheâd taken the pictures Miller had seen, and it changed the
shape of her face, but she was unmistakable. She was nude, and barely
human. Coils of complex growth spilled from her mouth, ears, and vulva.
Her ribs and spine had grown spurs like knives that stretched pale skin,
ready to cut themselves free of her. Tubes stretched from her back and
throat, crawling up the walls behind her. A deep brown slush had leaked
from her, filling the shower pan almost three centimeters high. He sat
silently , willing the thing before him not to be true, trying to force himself
awake.
What did they do to you? he thought. Oh, kid. What did they do?
âOhmygod,â Naomi said behind him.
âDonâ t touch anything,â he said. âGet out of the room. Into the hall.
Do it now .â
The Horror in the Shower
- Miller discovers the body of Julie Mao, which has been transformed into a grotesque, barely human state by an unknown biological growth.
- The physical environment of the room is described as organic and foul-smelling, with black tendrils reaching toward the ceiling.
- Miller warns his companions to stay away from the room and maintains a hardened emotional state to cope with the trauma of the discovery.
- Miller meets with Sematimba and reveals that James Holden is among the survivors, warning that the situation is dangerously deep and politically charged.
- Sematimba agrees to cover for Miller and the group, allowing them to remain off the official record while he handles the crime scene.
Coils of complex growth spilled from her mouth, ears, and vulva.
deep, organic, and intimate. Manure in a hothouse, or the aftermath of sex,
or a slaughterhouse. All of them. The toilet was brushed steel, the same
model they used in prisons. The sink matched. The LED above it and the
one in the ceilin g had both been destroyed. In the light of his terminal, like
the glow of a single candle, black tendrils reached from the shower stall
toward the ruined lights, bent and branching like skeletal leaves.
In the shower stall, Juliette Andromeda Mao lay dead.
Her eyes were closed, and that was a mercy . Sheâd cut her hair
differently since sheâd taken the pictures Miller had seen, and it changed the
shape of her face, but she was unmistakable. She was nude, and barely
human. Coils of complex growth spilled from her mouth, ears, and vulva.
Her ribs and spine had grown spurs like knives that stretched pale skin,
ready to cut themselves free of her. Tubes stretched from her back and
throat, crawling up the walls behind her. A deep brown slush had leaked
from her, filling the shower pan almost three centimeters high. He sat
silently , willing the thing before him not to be true, trying to force himself
awake.
What did they do to you? he thought. Oh, kid. What did they do?
âOhmygod,â Naomi said behind him.
âDonâ t touch anything,â he said. âGet out of the room. Into the hall.
Do it now .â
The light in the next room faded as the hand terminals retreated. The
twisting shadows momentarily gave her body the illusion of movement.
Miller waited, but no breath lifted the bent rib cage. No flicker touched her
eyelids. There was nothing. He rose, carefully checking his cuffs and shoes,
and walked out to the corridor .
Theyâd all seen it. He could tell from the expressions, theyâd all seen.
And they didnâ t know any bette r than he did what it was. Gentl y, he pulled
the splintered door closed and waited for Sematimba. It wasnâ t long.
Five men in police riot armor with shotguns made their way down the
hall. Miller walked forward to meet them, his posture better than a badge.
He could see them relax. Sematimba came up behind them.
âMiller?â he said. âThe hell is this? I thought you said you were
staying put.â
âI didnâ t leave,â he said. âThose are the civilians back there. The dead
guys downstairs jumped them in the lobby .â
âWhy?â Sematimba demanded.
âWho knows?â Miller said. âRoll them for spare change. Thatâ s not the
problem.â
Sematimbaâ s eyebrows rose. âIâve got four corpses down there, and
theyâre not the problem.â
Miller nodded down the corridor .
âFifth oneâ s up here,â he said. âItâ s the girl I was looking for .â
Sematimbaâ s expression softened. âIâm sorry ,â he said.
âNah,â Miller said. He couldnâ t accept sympathy . He couldnâ t accept
comfort. A gentle touch would shatter him, so he stayed hard instead. âBut
youâre going to want the coroner on this one.â
âItâs bad, then?â
âYouâve got no idea,â Miller said. âListen, Semi. Iâm in over my head
here. Seriously . Those boys down there with the guns? If they werenâ t
hooked in with your security force, there would have been alarms as soon
as the first shot was fired. You know this was a setup. They were waiting
for these four. And the squat fella with the dark hair? Thatâ s James Holden.
Heâs not even supposed to be alive.â
âHolden that started the war?â Sematimba said.
âThatâ s the one,â Miller said. âThis is deep. Drowning deep. And you
know what they say about going in after a drowning man, right?â
Sematimba looked down the corridor . He nodded.
âLet me help you,â Sematimba said, but Miller shook his head.
âIâm too far gone. Forget me. What happened was you got a call. You
found the place. You donât know me, you donât know them, youâve got no
clue what happened. Or you come along and drown with me. Y our pick.â
âYou donâ t leave the station without telling me?â
âOkay ,â Miller said.
âI can live with that,â Sematimba said. Then, a moment later: âThatâ s
really Holden?â
âCall the coroner ,â Miller said. âT rust me.â
The Aftermath of Violence
- Miller negotiates a quiet exit from a crime scene by leveraging his history as a cop and a mutual understanding with Sematimba.
- The crew experiences varying levels of trauma, evidenced by Naomi's shaking hands and Alex's physical illness in the hotel bathroom.
- Naomi observes that Miller had a personal connection to the victim, noting his stoic exterior masks a deep emotional shock.
- Despite the tension and Amos's distrust of Miller's promises, the group retreats to a dingy hotel to process the recent gunfight.
Naomi was closest to the panel, so she reached out to press the lobby button, but her hand was shaking so badly that she had to stop and clench it into a fist.
Sematimba looked down the corridor . He nodded.
âLet me help you,â Sematimba said, but Miller shook his head.
âIâm too far gone. Forget me. What happened was you got a call. You
found the place. You donât know me, you donât know them, youâve got no
clue what happened. Or you come along and drown with me. Y our pick.â
âYou donâ t leave the station without telling me?â
âOkay ,â Miller said.
âI can live with that,â Sematimba said. Then, a moment later: âThatâ s
really Holden?â
âCall the coroner ,â Miller said. âT rust me.â
Chapter T wenty-Five
Holden
Miller gestured at Holden and headed for the elevator withou t waiting to
see if he was following. The presumption irritated him, but he went anyway .
âSo,â Holden said, âwe were just in a gunfight where we killed at least
three people, and now weâre just leaving? No getting questioned or giving a
statement? How exactly does that happen?â Holden asked.
âProfessional courtesy ,â Miller said, and Holden couldnâ t tell if he was
joking.
The elevator door opened with a muffled ding, and Holden and the
others followed Miller inside. Naomi was closest to the panel, so she
reached out to press the lobby button, but her hand was shaki ng so badly
that she had to stop and clench it into a fist. After a deep breath, she reached
out a now steady finger and pressed the button.
âThis is bullshit. Being an ex-cop doesnâ t give you a license to get in
gunfights,â Holden said to Miller âs back.
Miller didnât move, but he seem ed to shrink a little bit. His sigh was
heavy and unforced. His skin seemed grayer than before.
âSematimba knows the score. Half the job is knowing when to look the
other way. Besides, I promised we wouldnâ t leave the station without letting
him know .â
âFuck that,â Amos said. âY ou donâ t make promises for us, pal.â
The elevator came to a stop and opened onto the bloody scene of the
gunfight. A dozen cops were in the room. Miller nodded at them and they
nodded back. He led the crew out of the lobby to the corridor , then turned
around.
âWe can work that out later,â Miller said. âRight now, letâs get
someplace we can talk.â
Holden agreed with a shrug. âOkay , but youâre paying.â
Miller headed of f down the corridor toward the tube station.
As they followed, Naomi put a hand on Holdenâ s arm and slow ed him
down a bit so that Miller could get ahead. When he was far enough away ,
she said, âHe knew her .â
âWho knew who?â
âHe,â Naomi said, nodding at Miller , âknew her.â She jerked her head
back toward the crime scene behind them.
âHow do you know?â Holden said.
âHe wasnât expecting to find her there, but he knew who she was.
Seeing her like that was a shock.â
âHuh, I didnâ t get that at all. Heâs seemed like Mr. Cool all through
this.â
âNo, they were friends or somet hing. Heâs having trouble dealing with
it, so maybe donâ t push him too hard,â she said. âW e might need him.â
The hotel room Miller got was only slightly better than the one theyâd
found the body in. Alex immediately headed for the bathroom and locked
the door. The sound of water running in the sink wasnâ t quite loud enough
to cover the pilotâ s retching.
Holden plopped down on the small bedâs dingy comforter , forcing
A Tense Hotel Interrogation
- The crew of the Rocinante and Detective Miller regroup in a dingy hotel room to process the discovery of Julie Mao's body.
- Miller reveals he was fired from Ceres security for investigating Julie's disappearance too aggressively.
- Holden admits they were tracking a lead from the Scopuli, though he remains cautious about revealing his connection to Fred Johnson.
- The group analyzes the recent ambush, concluding that their enemies knew they were coming but lacked specific details about Julie's room.
- Miller suggests the shootout was a tactical error triggered by Amos drawing his weapon rather than a planned execution.
Talking to Miller felt like digging through granite with a rubber chisel.
âHuh, I didnâ t get that at all. Heâs seemed like Mr. Cool all through
this.â
âNo, they were friends or somet hing. Heâs having trouble dealing with
it, so maybe donâ t push him too hard,â she said. âW e might need him.â
The hotel room Miller got was only slightly better than the one theyâd
found the body in. Alex immediately headed for the bathroom and locked
the door. The sound of water running in the sink wasnâ t quite loud enough
to cover the pilotâ s retching.
Holden plopped down on the small bedâs dingy comforter , forcing
Miller to take the roomâ s one uncomfortable-looking chair . Naomi sat next
to Holde n on the bed, but Amos stayed on his feet, prowling around the
room like a nervous animal.
âSo, talk,â Holden said to Miller .
âLetâ s wait for the rest of the gang to finish up,â Miller replied with a
nod toward the bathroom.
Alex came out a few moments later, his face still white, but now
freshly washed.
âAre you all right, Alex?â Naomi asked in a soft voice.
âFive by five, XO,â Alex said, then sat down on the floor and put his
head in his hands.
Holden stared at Miller and waited. The older man sat and playe d with
his hat for a minute, then tossed it onto the cheap plastic desk that
cantilevered out from the wall.
âYou knew Julie was in that room. How?â Miller said.
âWe didnâ t even know her name was Julie,â Holden replied. âWe just
knew that it was someone from the Scopuli. â
âYou should tell me how you knew that,â Miller said, a frigh tening
intensity in his eyes.
Holden paused a moment. Miller had killed someone who had been
trying to kill them, and that certainly helped make the case that he was a
friend, but Holden wasnâ t about to sell out Fred and his group on a hunch.
He hesitated, then went halfway .
âThe fictional owner of the Scopuli had checked into that flophouse,â
he said. âIt made sense that it was a member of the crew raising a flag.â
Miller nodded. âWho told you?â he said.
âIâm not comfortable telling you that. W e believed the information was
accurate,â Holden replied. âThe Scopuli was the bait that someone used to
kill the Canterbury . We thought someone from the Scopuli might know why
everyone keeps trying to kill us.â
Miller said, âShit,â and then leaned back in his chair and stared at the
ceiling.
âYouâve been looking for Julie. Youâd hoped we were looking for her
too. That we knew something,â Naomi said, not making it a question.
âYeah,â Miller said.
It was Holdenâ s turn to ask why .
âParents sent a contract to Ceres looking for her to be sent home. It
was my case,â Miller said.
âSo you work for Ceres security?â
âNot anymore.â
âSo what are you doing here?â Holden asked.
âHer family was connected to something,â Miller replied. âI just
naturally hate a mystery .â
âAnd how did you know it was bigger than just a missing girl?â
Talking to Miller felt like diggin g through granite with a rubber chisel.
Miller grinned humorlessly .
âThey fired me for looking too hard.â
Holden consciously decided not to be annoyed by Miller âs non-a nswer .
âSo letâ s talk about the death squad in the hotel.â
âYeah, seriously , what the fuck?â Amos said, finally pausing in his
pacing. Alex took his head out of his hands and looked up with interest for
the first time. Even Naomi leaned forward on the edge of the bed.
âNo idea,â Miller replied. âBut someone knew you were coming.â
âYeah, thanks for the brilliant police work,â Amos said with a snort.
âNo way we woulda figured that out on our own.â
Holden ignored him. âBut they didnâ t know why, or they would have
already gone up to Julieâ s room and gotten whatever they wanted.â
âDoes that mean Fredâ s been compromised?â Naomi said.
âFred?â Miller asked.
âOr maybe someone figured out the Polanski thing too, but didnâ t have
a room number ,â Holden said.
âBut why come out guns blazing like that?â Amos said. âDoesnâ t make
any sense to shoot us.â
âThat was a mistake,â Miller said. âI saw it happen. Amos here drew
The Aftermath on Eros
- Holden and Miller analyze the lobby shootout, concluding that their attackers were a non-local force with enough influence to suppress local security responses.
- The group realizes that their enemies are not omniscient but are capable of rapid redeployment and were likely trying to capture them for information.
- Alex and Amos express horror over the biological anomaly found in Julie Mao's room, raising fears about a potential contagion.
- Miller provides the password to Julie's hand terminal, revealing his deep personal obsession and emotional connection to a woman he never actually met.
How come no one is talkinâ about the mutant horror show in that room?
âNo way we woulda figured that out on our own.â
Holden ignored him. âBut they didnâ t know why, or they would have
already gone up to Julieâ s room and gotten whatever they wanted.â
âDoes that mean Fredâ s been compromised?â Naomi said.
âFred?â Miller asked.
âOr maybe someone figured out the Polanski thing too, but didnâ t have
a room number ,â Holden said.
âBut why come out guns blazing like that?â Amos said. âDoesnâ t make
any sense to shoot us.â
âThat was a mistake,â Miller said. âI saw it happen. Amos here drew
his gun. Somebody overreacted. They were yelling cease-fire right up until
you folks started shooting back.â
Holden began ticking of f points on his fingers.
âSo someone finds out weâre headed to Eros, and that it is related to
the Scopuli. They even know the hotel, but not the room.â
âThey donât know itâs Lionel Polanski either ,â Naomi said. âThey
could have looked it up at the desk, just like we did.â
âRight. So they wait for us to show, and have a squad of gunmen ready
to take us in. But that goes to shit and it turns into a gunfight in the lobby .
They absolutely donât see you coming, Detective, so they arenâ t
omniscient.â
âRight,â Miller said. âThe whole thing screams last minute. Grab you
guys and find out what youâre looking for. If theyâd had more time, they
could have just searched the hotel. Might have taken two or three days, but
it could have been done. They didnâ t, so that means grabbing you was
easier .â
Holden nodded. âYes,â he said. âBut that means that they already had
teams here. Those didnâ t seem like locals to me.â
Miller paused, looking disconcerted.
âNow you say it, me either ,â he agreed.
âSo whoever it is, they already have teams of gunmen on Eros, and
they can redeploy them to come at a momentâ s notice to pick us up,â
Holden said.
âAnd enough pull with security that they could have a firefight and
nobody came,â Miller said. âPolice didnâ t know anything was happening
until I called them.â
Holden cocked his head to one side, then said, âShit, we really need to
get out of here.â
âWait a minute,â Alex said loudly . âJust wait a goddamn minute here.
How come no one is talkinâ about the mutant horror show in that room?
Was I the only one that saw that?â
âYeah, Jesus, what was that all about?â Amos said quietly .
Miller reached into his coat pocket and took out the evidence bag with
Julieâ s hand terminal in it.
âAny of you guys a techie?â he asked. âMaybe we could find out.â
âI could probably hack it,â Naomi said. âBut thereâ s no way Iâm
touching that thing until we know what did that to her and that it isnât
catching. Iâm not pushing my luck by handling anything sheâ s touched.â
âYou donât have to touch it. Keep the bag sealed. Just use it right
through the plastic. The touch screen should still work.â
Naomi paused for a second, then reached out and took the bag.
âOkay , give me a minute,â she said, then set to work on it.
Miller leaned back in his chair again, letting out another heavy sigh.
âSo,â Holden said. âDid you know Julie before this? Naomi seems to
think finding her dead like that really knocked you for a loop.â
Miller shook his head slowly . âYou get a case like that, you look into
whoever it is. You know , personal stuff. Read their e-mail. Talk to the
people they know . You get a picture.â
Miller stopped talking and rubbed his eyes with his thumbs. Holden
didnâ t push him, but he started talking again anyway .
âJulie was a good kid,â Miller said as if he were confessing something.
âShe flew a mean racing ship. I just⌠I wanted to get her back alive.â
âItâs got a password,â Naomi said, holding up the terminal. âI could
hack the hardware, but Iâd have to open the case.â
Miller reached out and said, âLet me give it a try .â
Naomi handed the terminal to him, and he tapped a few characters on
the screen and handed it back.
âRazorback, â Naomi said. âWhatâ s that?â
The Phoebe Bug Diary
- Miller uses his knowledge of Julie Mao to unlock her terminal, revealing a series of frantic notes she left before her death.
- The notes detail Julie's infection with a mysterious 'Phoebe bug'âa brown, anaerobic substance that consumes radiation and alters biology.
- Julie describes horrifying physical symptoms, including sleeping for weeks, extreme hunger, and brown goo leaking from growths on her back.
- The crew realizes Julie was on a different ship after the Scopuli and that she intentionally isolated herself on Eros to prevent spreading the infection.
- The discovery links the disaster at the Phoebe science station to the biological horror Julie encountered and eventually succumbed to.
Am I going to be a suit full of jelly?
didnâ t push him, but he started talking again anyway .
âJulie was a good kid,â Miller said as if he were confessing something.
âShe flew a mean racing ship. I just⌠I wanted to get her back alive.â
âItâs got a password,â Naomi said, holding up the terminal. âI could
hack the hardware, but Iâd have to open the case.â
Miller reached out and said, âLet me give it a try .â
Naomi handed the terminal to him, and he tapped a few characters on
the screen and handed it back.
âRazorback, â Naomi said. âWhatâ s that?â
âItâs a sled,â Miller replied.
âIs he talking to us?â Amos said, pointing his chin at Miller . ââCause
thereâ s no one else here, but I swear half the time I donât know what the
fuck heâ s on about.â
âSorry ,â Miller said. âIâve been working more or less solo. Makes for
bad habits.â
Naomi shrugged and went back to work with Holden and Miller now
looking over her shoulders.
âSheâ s got a lot of stuf f on here,â Naomi said. âWhere to start?â
Miller pointed at a text file simply labeled notes sitting on the
terminalâ s desktop.
âStart there,â he said. âSheâ s a fanatic about putting things in the right
folders. If she left that on the desktop, it means she wasnâ t sure where it
went.â
Naomi tapped on the document to open it up. It expanded into a
loosely or ganized collection of text that read like someoneâ s diary .
First off, get your shit together . Panic doesnâ t help. It never
helps. Deep breaths, figur e this out, make the right moves. fear
is the mind-killer . Ha. Geek.
Shuttle Pr os:
No reactor , just batteries. V . low radiation.
Supplies for eight
Lots of r eaction mass
Shuttle Cons:
No Epstein, no tor ch
Comm not just disabled, but physically removed (feeling a little
paranoid about leaks, guys?)
Closest transit is Eros. Is that wher e we were going? Maybe go
someplace else? On just teakettle, this is gonna be a slow boat.
Another transit adds seven mor e weeks. Er os, then.
Iâve got the Phoebe bug, no way around it. Not sure how, but
that brown shit was everywher e. Itâs anaer obic, must have
touched some. Doesnâ t matter how , just work the pr oblem.
I just slept for THREE WEEKS. Didnâ t even get up to pee. What
does that?
Iâm so fucked.
Things you need to r emember:
* BA8340241 12
* Radiation kills. No reactor on this shuttle, but keep the lights
off. Keep the e-suit on. Video asshat said this thing eats
radiation. Donâ t feed it.
* Send up a flag. Get some help. You work for the smartest
people in the system. Theyâll figur e something out.
* Stay away from people. Donâ t spread the bug. Not coughing
up the br own goo yet. No idea when that starts.
* Keep away from bad guysâas if you know who they are.
Fine. So keep away from everyone. Incognito is my name.
Hmm. Polanski?
Damn. I can feel it. Iâm hot all the time, and Iâm starving. Donâ t
eat. Donât feed it. Feed a cold, starve a flu? Other way around?
Eros is a day out, and then help is on the way . Keep fighting.
Safe on Eros. Sent up the flag. Hope the home office is
watching. Head hurts. Somethingâ s happening on my back.
Lump over my kidneys. Darr en turned into goo. Am I going to
be a suit full of jelly?
Sick now. Things coming out of my back and leaking that
brown stuff everywher e. Have to take the suit off. If you read
this, donât let anyone touch the Brown stuff. Burn me. Iâm
burning up.
Naomi put the terminal down, but no one spoke for a moment. Finally ,
Holden said, âPhoebe bug. Anyone have an idea?â
âThere was a science station on Phoebe,â Miller said. âInner planets
place, no Belters allowed. It got hit. Lots of dead people, butâŚâ
âShe talks about being on a shuttle,â Naomi said. âThe Scopuli didnâ t
have a shuttle.â
âThere had to be another ship,â Alex said. âMaybe she got the shuttle
off it.â
âRight,â Holden said. âThey got on another ship, they got infected
with this Phoebe bug, and the rest of the crew⌠I donâ t know . Dies?â
The Phoebe Bug
- The crew analyzes Julie Mao's death and concludes she was infected by a mysterious biological agent originating from a science station on Phoebe.
- Holden suspects the infection is a bioweapon and fears the crew may have been exposed while investigating the hotel room.
- Naomi identifies a specific asteroid coordinate from Julie's data, which likely hides the ship where the infection began.
- Miller insists on joining the crew of the Rocinante to hunt down those responsible for Julie's death, despite the ship being under a police lockdown.
Not, however, turned to goo. Just really badly⌠I donât know. Those tubes and bone spurs. What kind of disease does that?
burning up.
Naomi put the terminal down, but no one spoke for a moment. Finally ,
Holden said, âPhoebe bug. Anyone have an idea?â
âThere was a science station on Phoebe,â Miller said. âInner planets
place, no Belters allowed. It got hit. Lots of dead people, butâŚâ
âShe talks about being on a shuttle,â Naomi said. âThe Scopuli didnâ t
have a shuttle.â
âThere had to be another ship,â Alex said. âMaybe she got the shuttle
off it.â
âRight,â Holden said. âThey got on another ship, they got infected
with this Phoebe bug, and the rest of the crew⌠I donâ t know . Dies?â
âShe gets out, not realizing sheâs infected till sheâs on the shuttle,â
Naomi continued. âShe comes here, she sends up the flag to Fred, and she
dies in that hotel room of the infection.â
âNot, however , turned to goo,â Holden said. âJust really badly⌠I
donât know . Those tubes and bone spurs. What kind of disease does that?â
The question hung in the air. Again no one spoke. Holden knew they
were all thinking the same thing. They hadnâ t touched anything in the
flophouse room. Did that mean they were safe from it? Or did they have the
Phoebe bug, whatever the hell it was? But sheâd said anaerobic. Holden was
pretty sure that meant you couldnât get it by breathing it in the air. Pretty
sureâŚ
âWhere do we go from here, Jim?â Naomi asked.
âHow about Venus?â Holden said, his voice higher and tighter than
heâd expected. âNothing interesting happening on V enus.â
âSeriously ,â Naomi said.
âOkay . Seriousl y, I think Miller there lets his cop friend know the
story , and then we get the hell off of this rock. Itâs got to be a bioweapon,
right? Someone steals it off a Martian science lab, seeds this shit in a dome,
a month later every human being in the city is dead.â
Amos interrupted with a grunt.
âThereâ s some holes in that, Capân,â Amos said. âLike what the fuck
does that have to do with taking down the Cant and the Donnager ?â
Holden looked Naomi in the eye and said, âWe have a place to look
now, donâ t we?â
âYeah, we do,â she said. âBA8340241 12. Thatâ s a rock designation.â
âWhat do you think is out there?â Alex asked.
âIf I was a betting man, Iâd say itâs whatever ship she stole that shuttle
from,â Holden replied.
âMakes sense,â Naomi said. âEvery rock in the Belt is mapped. You
want to hide something, put it in a stable orbit next to one and you can
always find it later .â
Miller turned toward Holden, his face even more drawn.
âIf youâre going there, I want in,â he said.
âWhy?â Holden asked. âNo offense, but you found your girl. Your
jobâs over , right?â
Miller looked at him, his lips a thin line.
âDifferent case,â Miller said. âNow itâ s about who killed her .â
Chapter T wenty-Six
Miller
âYour police friend put a lockd own order on my ship,â Hold en said. He
sounded outraged.
Around them, the hotel restaurant was busy. Last shiftâ s prostitutes
mixed with the next shiftâ s tourists and businessmen at the cheap pink-lit
buffet. The pilot and the big guyâAlex and Amosâwere vying for the last
bagel. Naomi sat at Holdenâ s side, her arms crossed, a cup of bad coffee
cooling before her .
âWe did kill some people,â Miller said gently .
âI thought you got us out of that with your secret police hands hake,â
Holden said. âSo whyâ s my ship in lockdown?â
âYou remember when Sematimba said we shouldnâ t leave the station
without telling him?â Miller said.
âI remem ber you making some kind of deal,â Holden said. âI donât
remember agreeing to it.â
âLook, heâs going to keep us here until heâs sure he wonâ t get fired for
letting us go. Once he knows his ass is covered, the lock goes down. So
letâs talk about the part where I rent a berth on your ship.â
Jim Holden and his XO exchan ged a glance, one of those tiny human
burst communications that said more than words could have. Miller didnâ t
know either of them well enou gh to decode all of it, but he guessed they
were skeptical.
Negotiating a Way Out
- Miller attempts to secure passage on Holden's ship by leveraging his influence over their current detention status.
- Holden and his crew remain deeply skeptical of Miller, questioning his motives and his lack of financial resources.
- Miller reveals his desperate financial situation, admitting he plans to fund his travel through rigged gambling and police bribes.
- Holden rejects the proposal, emphasizing that he only allows people he can trust with his life onto his ship.
- The crew clarifies the legal distinction between blackmail and extortion during the tense negotiation.
âIâm kind of low on solid plans. Havenâ t had one yet that actually happened.â
without telling him?â Miller said.
âI remem ber you making some kind of deal,â Holden said. âI donât
remember agreeing to it.â
âLook, heâs going to keep us here until heâs sure he wonâ t get fired for
letting us go. Once he knows his ass is covered, the lock goes down. So
letâs talk about the part where I rent a berth on your ship.â
Jim Holden and his XO exchan ged a glance, one of those tiny human
burst communications that said more than words could have. Miller didnâ t
know either of them well enou gh to decode all of it, but he guessed they
were skeptical.
They had reason to be. Miller had checked his credit balance before
heâd called them. He had enough left for another night in the hotel or a
good dinner, but not both. He was spending it on a cheap breakfast that
Holden and his crew didnâ t need and probably wouldnâ t enjoy , buying good
will.
âI need to make very, very sure I understand what youâre saying,â
Holden said as the big oneâAmosâreturned and sat at his other side
holding the bagel. âAre you saying that unless I let you on my ship, your
friend is going to keep us here? Because thatâ s blackmail.â
âExtortion,â Amos said.
âWhat?â Holden said.
âItâs not blackmail,â Naomi said. âThat would be if he threatened to
expose information we didnâ t want known. If itâs just a threat, thatâs
extortion.â
âAnd itâs not what Iâm talking about,â Miller said. âFreedom of the
station while the investigation rolls? Thatâ s no trouble. Leaving
jurisdictionâ s another thing. I canât hold you here any more than I can cut
you loose. Iâm just looking for a ride when you go.â
âWhy?â Holden said.
âBecause youâre going to Julieâ s asteroid,â Miller said.
âIâm willing to bet thereâ s no port there,â Holden said. âDid you plan
on going anyplace after that?â
âIâm kind of low on solid plans. Havenâ t had one yet that actually
happened.â
âI hear that,â Amos said. âWeâve been fucked eighteen different ways
since we got into this.â
Holden folded his hands on the table, one finger tapping a complicated
rhythm on the wood-textured concrete top. It wasnâ t a good sign.
âYou seem like a⌠well, like an angry , bitter old man, actual ly. But
Iâve been worki ng water haulers for the past five years. That just means
youâd fit in.â
âBut,â Miller said, and let the word hang there.
âBut Iâve been shot at a lot recently , and the machine guns yesterday
were the least lethal thing Iâve had to deal with,â Holden said. âIâm not
letting anyone on my ship that I wouldnâ t trust with my life, and I donât
actually know you.â
âI can get the money ,â Miller said, his belly sinking. âIf itâs money , I
can cover it.â
âItâs not about negotiating a price,â Holden said.
âGet the money?â Naomi said, her eyes narrowing. ââGet the money ,â
as in you donâ t have it now?â
âIâm a little short,â Miller said. âItâ s temporary .â
âYou have an income?â Naomi said.
âMore like a strategy ,â Miller said. âThereâ s some independent rackets
down on the docks. There always are at any port. Side games. Fights.
Things like that. Most of them, the fix is in. Itâs how you bribe cops without
actually bribing cops.â
âThatâ s your plan?â Holden said, incredulity in his voice. âGo collect
some police bribes?â
Across the restaurant, a prostitute in a red nightgown yawned
prodigiously; the john across the table from her frowned.
âNo,â Miller said reluctantly . âI play the side bets. A cop goes in, I
make a side bet that heâs going to win. I know who the cops are mostly . The
house, they know because theyâre bribing them. The side bets are with fish
looking to feel edgy because theyâre playing unlicensed.â
Even as he said it, Miller knew how weak it sounded. Alex, the pilot,
came and sat beside Miller . His cof fee smelled bright and acidic.
âWhatâ s the deal?â Alex asked.
âThere isnât one,â Holden said. âThere wasnâ t one before and there
still isnâ t.â
âIt work s better than youâd think,â Miller said gamely , and four hand
Stage Three and Lockdown
- Miller and Holden's crew receive an urgent message from Tycho revealing that a mole leaked their location to unknown parties on Eros.
- The intercepted message confirms that a 'payload sample'âlikely Julie Mao's infected bodyâhas been recovered by the antagonists.
- The group debates the strategic value of Eros, concluding it is a shipping hub rather than a military target, just as 'Stage Three' of the enemy plan begins.
- A mysterious vibration shakes the station, followed by emergency klaxons and a mandatory lockdown order.
- The station's public-address system directs all inhabitants to the casino level for 'radiological safety confinement,' signaling a massive escalation.
Everyone in the hotel went silent with the sudden shared dread of thousands of people made aware of their fragility in the same moment.
prodigiously; the john across the table from her frowned.
âNo,â Miller said reluctantly . âI play the side bets. A cop goes in, I
make a side bet that heâs going to win. I know who the cops are mostly . The
house, they know because theyâre bribing them. The side bets are with fish
looking to feel edgy because theyâre playing unlicensed.â
Even as he said it, Miller knew how weak it sounded. Alex, the pilot,
came and sat beside Miller . His cof fee smelled bright and acidic.
âWhatâ s the deal?â Alex asked.
âThere isnât one,â Holden said. âThere wasnâ t one before and there
still isnâ t.â
âIt work s better than youâd think,â Miller said gamely , and four hand
terminals chimed at once. Holden and Naomi exchanged another , less
complicit glance and pulled up their terminals. Amos and Alex already had
theirs up. Miller caught the red-and-green border that meant either a priority
message or an early Christmas card. There was a momentâ s silence as they
all read something; then Amos whistled low .
âStage three?â Naomi said.
âCanâ t say as I like the sound of that,â Alex said.
âYou mind if I ask?â Miller said.
Holden slid his terminal across the table. The message was plaintext,
encoded from T ycho.
CAUGHT MOLE IN TYCHO COMM STATION. YOUR PRESENCE AND
DESTINA TION LEAKED T O UNKNOWN PERSONS ON EROS. BE CAREFUL.
âLittle late on that,â Miller said.
âKeep reading,â Holden said.
MOLEâS ENCR YPTION CODE ALLOWED INTERCEPT OF SUBSIGNAL
BROADCAST FROM EROS FIVE HOURS AGO.
INTERCEPTED MESSAGE FOLLOWS: HOLDEN ESCAPED BUT
PAYLOAD SAMPL E RECOVERED. REPEA T: SAMPLE RECOVERED.
PROCEEDING T O ST AGE THREE.
âAny idea what that means?â Holden asked.
âI donât,â Miller said, pushing the terminal back. âExcept⌠if the
payload sample is Julieâ s body .â
âWhich I think we can assume it is,â Holden said.
Miller tapped his fingertips on the tabletop, unconsciously copying
Holdenâ s rhythm, his mind working through the combinations.
âThis thing,â Miller said. âThe bioweapon or whatever . They were
shipping it here. So now itâs here. Okay . Thereâ s no reason to take out Eros.
Itâs not particularly important to the war when you hold it up to Ceres or
Ganymede or the shipyard at Callisto. And if you wanted it dead, thereâre
easier ways. Blow a big fusion bomb on the surface, and crack it like an
egg.â
âItâs not a military base, but it is a shipping hub,â Naomi said. âAnd,
unlike Ceres, itâ s not under OP A control.â
âTheyâre shippi ng her out, then,â Holden said. âTheyâre taking their
sample out to infect whatever their original target was, and once theyâre off
the station, thereâ s no way weâre going to stop it.â
Miller shook his head. Somethin g about the chain of logic felt wrong.
He was missing something. His imaginary Julie appeared across the room,
but her eyes were dark, black filaments pouring down her cheeks like tears.
What am I looking at here, Julie? he thought. Iâm seeing something
here, but I donâ t know what it is.
The vibration was a slight, small thing, less than a transport tubeâ s
braking stutter . A few plates rattled; the coffee in Naomiâ s cup danced in a
series of concentric circles. Everyone in the hotel went silent with the
sudden shared dread of thousands of people made aware of their fragility in
the same moment.
âOh-kay ,â Amos said. âThe fuck was that?â and the emergency
Klaxons started blaring.
âOr possibly stage three is something else,â Miller said over the noise.
The public-addr ess system was muddy by its nature. The same voice spoke
from consoles and speakers that might have been as close as a meter from
each other or as far out as earshot would take them. It made every word
reverberate, a false echo. Because of that, the voice of the emer gency
broadcast system enunciated very carefully , each word bitten of f separately .
âAttention, please. Eros Station is in emer gency lockdown. Proceed
immediately to the casino level for radiological safety confinement.
Eros Station Emergency Lockdown
- Klaxons and emergency broadcasts signal a station-wide lockdown on Eros, ordering all inhabitants to the casino level for radiological safety.
- Miller and Holdenâs crew navigate a growing, panicked crowd that Miller compares to water molecules just shy of boiling.
- The group debates the nature of the threat, concluding that while the station's rock shell protects against hull breaches, a radiation burst could kill everyone without losing air.
- Alex recounts a harrowing past experience in a radiation shelter to highlight the grim reality of their current situation.
- Eros security forces finally intervene to manage the frustrated and fearful crowd as the situation reaches a tipping point.
It hadnât happened yet, but the impatient movement of the crowd, vibrating like molecules in water just shy of boiling, made Miller very uncomfortable.
Klaxons started blaring.
âOr possibly stage three is something else,â Miller said over the noise.
The public-addr ess system was muddy by its nature. The same voice spoke
from consoles and speakers that might have been as close as a meter from
each other or as far out as earshot would take them. It made every word
reverberate, a false echo. Because of that, the voice of the emer gency
broadcast system enunciated very carefully , each word bitten of f separately .
âAttention, please. Eros Station is in emer gency lockdown. Proceed
immediately to the casino level for radiological safety confinement.
Cooperate with all emer gency personnel. Attention, please. Eros station is
in emer gency lockdownâŚâ
And on in a loop that would continue, if no one coded in the override,
until every man, woman, child, animal, and insect on the station had been
reduced to dust and humidity . It was the nightmare scenario, and Miller did
what a lifetime on pressurized rocks had trained him to do. He was up from
the table, in the corridor , and heading down toward the wider passages,
already clogged with bodies. Holden and his crew were on his heels.
âThat was an explosion,â Alex said. âShip drive at the least. Maybe a
nuke.â
âThey are going to kill the station,â Holden said. There was a kind of
awe in his voice . âI never thoug ht Iâd miss the part where they just blew up
the ships I was on. But now itâ s stations.â
âThey didnâ t crack it,â Miller said.
âYouâre sure of that?â Naomi asked.
âI can hear you talking,â Miller said. âThat tells me thereâ s air.â
âThere are airlocks,â Holden said. âIf the station got holed and the
locks closed downâŚâ
A woman pushed hard against Miller âs shoulder , forcing her way
forward. If they werenâ t damn careful, there was going to be a stampede.
This was too much fear and not enough space. It hadnâ t happened yet, but
the impatient movement of the crowd, vibrating like molecules in water just
shy of boiling, made Miller very uncomfortable.
âThis isnât a ship,â Miller said. âItâs a station. This is rock weâre on.
Anything big enough to get to the parts of the station with atmosphere
would crack the place like an egg. A great big pressurized egg.â
The crowd was stopped, the tunnel full. They were going to need
crowd control, and they were going to need it fast. For the first time since
heâd left Ceres, Miller wished he had a badge. Someone pushed into Amosâ
side, then backed away through the press when the big guy growled.
âBesides,â Miller said, âitâ s a rad hazard. Y ou donâ t need air loss to kill
everyone in the station. Just burn a few quadrillion spare neutr ons through
the place at C, and there wonâ t be any trouble with the oxygen supply .â
âCheerful fucker ,â Amos said.
âThey build stations inside of rocks for a reason,â Naomi said. âNot so
easy to force radiation through this many meters of rock.â
âI spent a month in a rad shelter once,â Alex said as they pushed
through the thickening crowd. âShip I was on had magnetic containment
drop. Automatic cutof fs failed, and the reactor kept runninâ for almost a
second. Melted the engine room. Killed five of the crew on the next deck up
before they knew we had a problem, and it took them three days to carve
the bodies free of the melted decking for burial. The rest of us wound up
eighteen to a shelter for thirty-six days while a tug flew to get us.â
âSounds great,â Holden said.
âEnd of it, six of âem got married, and the rest of us never spoke to
each other again,â Alex said.
Ahead of them, someone shouted. It wasnâ t in alarm or even anger ,
really . Frustration. Fear . Exactly the things Miller didnâ t want to hear .
âThat may not be our big problem,â Miller said, but before he could
explain, a new voice cut in, drowning out the emer gency-response loop.
âOkay , everybody! Weâre Eros security , que no ? We got an emer gency ,
so you do what we tell you and nobody gets hurt.â
About time, Miller thought.
Meat for the Machine
- Alex recounts a traumatic reactor failure that left his crew trapped in a shelter for over a month.
- Eros security forces attempt to manage a panicked crowd by threatening to shoot anyone who pushes.
- Holden and his crew decide to bypass the station's shelters and head directly for their ship, the Rocinante.
- Miller recognizes the security guards as former criminals he arrested on Ceres, now wearing stolen equipment.
- The presence of these thugs suggests a long-standing conspiracy that predates the destruction of the Canterbury.
One of the security men was also far too wide for his gear, the Velcro fasteners at his belly reaching out for each other like lovers at the moment of separation.
drop. Automatic cutof fs failed, and the reactor kept runninâ for almost a
second. Melted the engine room. Killed five of the crew on the next deck up
before they knew we had a problem, and it took them three days to carve
the bodies free of the melted decking for burial. The rest of us wound up
eighteen to a shelter for thirty-six days while a tug flew to get us.â
âSounds great,â Holden said.
âEnd of it, six of âem got married, and the rest of us never spoke to
each other again,â Alex said.
Ahead of them, someone shouted. It wasnâ t in alarm or even anger ,
really . Frustration. Fear . Exactly the things Miller didnâ t want to hear .
âThat may not be our big problem,â Miller said, but before he could
explain, a new voice cut in, drowning out the emer gency-response loop.
âOkay , everybody! Weâre Eros security , que no ? We got an emer gency ,
so you do what we tell you and nobody gets hurt.â
About time, Miller thought.
âSo hereâs the rule,â the new voice said. âNext asshole who pushes
anyone, Iâm going to shoot them. Move in an orderly fashion. First priority:
orderly . Second priority is move ! Go, go, go!â
At first nothing happened. The knot of human bodies was tied too
tightly for even the most heavy-handed crowd control to free quickly , but a
minute later, Miller saw some heads far ahead of him in the tunnel start to
shift, then move away . The air in the tunnel was thickening and the hot
plastic smell of overloaded recyclers reached him just as the clot came free.
Miller âs breath started coming easier .
âDo they have hard shelters?â a woman behind them asked her
companion, and then was swept away by the currents. Naomi plucked
Miller âs sleeve.
âDo they?â she asked.
âThey should, yes,â Miller said. âEnough for maybe a quarter million,
and essential personnel and medical crews would get first crack at them.â
âAnd everyone else?â Amos said.
âIf they survive the event,â Holden said, âstation personnel will save
as many people as they can.â
âAh,â Amos said. Then: âWell, fuck that. Weâre going for the Roci,
right?â
âOh, hell yes,â Holden said.
Ahead of them, the fast-shuf fling crowd in their tunnel was merging
with another flow of people from a lower level. Five thick-nec ked men in
riot gear were waving people on. Two of them were pointing guns at the
crowd. Miller was more than half tempted to go up and slap the little idiots.
Pointing guns at people was a lousy way to avoid panic. One of the security
men was also far too wide for his gear, the Velcro fasteners at his belly
reaching out for each other like lovers at the moment of separation.
Miller looked down at the floor and slowed his steps, the back of his
mind suddenly and powerfully busy. One of the cops swung his gun out
over the crowd. Another oneâthe fat guyâlaughed and said something in
Korean.
What had Sematimba said about the new security force? All bluster , no
balls. A new corporation out of Luna. Belters on the ground. Corrupt.
The name. Theyâd had a name. CPM. Carne Por la Machina. Meat for
the machine. One of the gun-wi elding cops lowered his weapon, swept off
his helmet, and scratched violently behind one ear . He had wild black hair , a
tattooed neck, and a scar that went from one eyelid down almost to the joint
of his jaw .
Miller knew him. A year and a half ago, heâd arrested him for assault
and racketeering. And the equipmentâarmor , batons, riot gunsâalso
looked hauntingly familiar . Daw es had been wrong. Miller had been able to
find his own missing equipment after all.
Whatever this was, it had been going on a long time before the
Canterbury had picked up a distress call from the Scopuli. A long time
before Julie had vanished. And putting a bunch of Ceres Station thugs in
charge of Eros crowd control using stolen Ceres Station equipment had
Meat for the Machine
- Miller recognizes the new security force on Eros as known criminals and thugs from Ceres Station.
- The riot gear being used by these fake police officers is the same equipment that went missing from Ceres months prior.
- Miller realizes that the infiltration of Eros by these criminals was a planned 'third phase' that predates the destruction of the Canterbury.
- The fake security forces are herding the panicked population toward casino levels and radiation shelters under false pretenses.
- Miller warns Holden and his crew to avoid following the crowd, suspecting a lethal trap orchestrated by the underworld muscle.
CPM. Carne Por la Machina. Meat for the machine.
Korean.
What had Sematimba said about the new security force? All bluster , no
balls. A new corporation out of Luna. Belters on the ground. Corrupt.
The name. Theyâd had a name. CPM. Carne Por la Machina. Meat for
the machine. One of the gun-wi elding cops lowered his weapon, swept off
his helmet, and scratched violently behind one ear . He had wild black hair , a
tattooed neck, and a scar that went from one eyelid down almost to the joint
of his jaw .
Miller knew him. A year and a half ago, heâd arrested him for assault
and racketeering. And the equipmentâarmor , batons, riot gunsâalso
looked hauntingly familiar . Daw es had been wrong. Miller had been able to
find his own missing equipment after all.
Whatever this was, it had been going on a long time before the
Canterbury had picked up a distress call from the Scopuli. A long time
before Julie had vanished. And putting a bunch of Ceres Station thugs in
charge of Eros crowd control using stolen Ceres Station equipment had
been part of the plan. The third phase.
Ah, he thought. Well. That canâ t be good.
Miller slid to the side, letting as many bodies as he plausibly could fill
the space between him and the gunmen dressed as police.
âGet down to the casino level,â one of the gunmen shouted over the
crowd. âWeâll get you into the radiation shelters from there, but youâve got
to get to the casino level!â
Holden and his crew hadnâ t noticed anything odd. They were talking
among themselves, strategizing about how to get to their ship and what to
do once they got there, speculating about who might have attacked the
station and where Julie Maoâ s twisted, infected corpse might be headed.
Miller fought the impulse to interrupt them. He needed to stay calm, to
think things through. They couldnâ t attract attention. He needed the right
moment.
The corridor turned and widened. The press of bodies lightened a little
bit. Miller waited for a dead zone in the crowd control, a space where none
of the fake security men could see them. He took Holden by the elbow .
âDonâ t go,â he said.
Chapter T wenty-Seven
Holden
âWhat do you mean, donât go?â Holden asked, yanking his elbow out of
Miller âs grasp. âSomebody just nuked the station. This has escalated
beyond our capacity to respond . If we canât get to the Roci, weâre doing
whatever they tell us to until we can.â
Miller took a step back and put up his hands; he was clearly doing his
best to look nonthreatening, which just pissed Holden off even more.
Behind him, the riot cops were motioning the people milling in the
corridors toward the casinos. The air echoed with the electronically
amplified voices of the police directing the crowds and the buzz of anxious
citizens. Over it all, the public-a ddress system told everyone to remain calm
and cooperate with emer gency personnel.
âSee that bruise r over there in the police riot gear?â Miller said. âHis
name is Gabby Smalls. He supervises a chunk of the Golden Bough
protection racket on Ceres. He also runs a little dust on the side, and I
suspect heâ s tossed more than a few people out airlocks.â
Holden looked at the guy. Wide shoulders, thick gut. Now that Miller
pointed him out, there was something about him that didnâ t seem right for a
cop.
âI donâ t get it,â Holden said.
âA coup le mont hs ago, when you started a bunch of riots by saying
Mars blew up your water hauler , we found outââ
âI never saidââ
ââfound out that most of the police riot gear on Ceres was missing. A
few months before that, a bunch of our underworld muscle went missing. I
just found out where both of them are.â
Miller pointed at the riot-gear -equipped Gabby Smalls.
âI wouldnâ t go wherever heâs sending people,â he said. âI really
wouldnâ t.â
The Maintenance Hatch Escape
- Miller identifies that the supposed police officers are actually underworld muscle equipped with stolen riot gear.
- Despite the panic of the crowd, Miller's hand terminal confirms there is no immediate radiation danger on their current level.
- The group decides to avoid the mob-controlled casinos by hiding in a high-voltage maintenance corridor.
- Amos uses his technical skills to bypass the security on a service hatch, allowing the group to slip away from the main flow of people.
- The hidden corridor reveals the station's history, featuring low ceilings carved by the original gravity-born colonists.
When we donât, theyâll beat us unconscious and throw us in anyway. For our own protection.
pointed him out, there was something about him that didnâ t seem right for a
cop.
âI donâ t get it,â Holden said.
âA coup le mont hs ago, when you started a bunch of riots by saying
Mars blew up your water hauler , we found outââ
âI never saidââ
ââfound out that most of the police riot gear on Ceres was missing. A
few months before that, a bunch of our underworld muscle went missing. I
just found out where both of them are.â
Miller pointed at the riot-gear -equipped Gabby Smalls.
âI wouldnâ t go wherever heâs sending people,â he said. âI really
wouldnâ t.â
A thin stream of people bumped past.
âThen where?â Naomi asked.
âYeah, I mean, if the choice is radiation or mobsters, I gotta go with
the mobsters,â Alex said, nodding emphatically at Naomi.
Miller pulled out his hand terminal and held it up so everyone could
see the screen.
âIâve got no radiation warnings, â he said. âWhatever happened outside
isnât a danger on this level. Not right now. So letâs just calm down and
make the smart move.â
Holden turned his back on Miller and motioned to Naomi. He pulled
her aside and said in a quiet voice, âI still think we go back to the ship and
get out of here. T ake our chances getting past these mobsters.â
âIf thereâ s no radiation danger , then I agree,â she said with a nod.
âI disagree,â Miller said, not even pretending he hadnâ t been
eavesdropping. âTo do that we have to walk through three levels of casino
filled with riot gear and thugs. Theyâre going to tell us to get in one of those
casinos for our own protection. When we donât, theyâll beat us unconscious
and throw us in anyway . For our own protection.â
Another crowd of people poured out of a branch corridor , heading for
the reassuring presence of the police and the bright casino lights. Holden
found it difficult not to be swept along with the crowd. A man with two
enormous suitcases bumped into Naomi, almost knocking her down.
Holden grabbed her hand.
âWhatâ s the alternative?â he asked Miller .
Miller glanced up and down the corridor , seeming to measure the flow
of people. He nodded at a yellow-and-black-striped hatch down a small
maintenance corridor .
âThat one,â he said. âItâs marked HIGH VOL TAGE, so the guys sweeping
for stragglers wonâ t bother with it. Itâ s not the kind of place citizens hide.â
âCan you get that door open quickly?â Holden said, looking at Amos.
âCan I break it?â
âIf you need to.â
âThen sure,â Amos said, and began pushing his way through the crowd
toward the maintenance hatch. At the door, he pulled out his multi-tool and
popped off the cheap plastic housing for the card reader . After he twisted a
couple of wires together , the hatch slid open with a hydraulic hiss.
âTa-da,â Amos said. âThe reader wonâ t work anymore, so anyone who
wants in comes in.â
âLetâ s worry about that if it happens,â Miller replied, then led them
into the dimly lit passageway beyond.
The service corridor was filled with electrical cable held together with
plastic ties. It stretched through the dim red light for thirty or forty feet
before falling into gloom. The light came from LEDs mounted on the metal
bracing that sprouted from the wall every five feet or so to hold the cable
up. Naomi had to duck to enter , her frame about four centimeters too tall for
the ceiling. She put her back to the wall and slid down onto her haunches.
âYouâd think theyâd make the maintenance corridors tall enough for
Belters to work in,â she said irritably .
Holden touched the wall almost reverently , tracing a corridor
identification number carved right into the stone.
âThe Belters who built this place werenâ t tall,â he said. âThe se are
some of the main power lines. This tunnel goes back to the first Belt colony .
The people who carved it grew up in gravity .â
Shadows of the First Colony
- The crew hides in a cramped, ancient maintenance corridor that dates back to the original construction of the Belt by people who grew up in gravity.
- Amos warns the group about the lethal high-voltage cables lining the tunnel, while Alex worries about the station potentially venting the air from the corridors.
- Miller and Holden question why local mobsters and police are herding the population into radiation shelters when there is no actual radiation threat.
- Driven by curiosity and a mutual dislike of mysteries, Holden and Miller decide to investigate the shelters, splitting from the rest of the crew.
The people who carved it grew up in gravity.
plastic ties. It stretched through the dim red light for thirty or forty feet
before falling into gloom. The light came from LEDs mounted on the metal
bracing that sprouted from the wall every five feet or so to hold the cable
up. Naomi had to duck to enter , her frame about four centimeters too tall for
the ceiling. She put her back to the wall and slid down onto her haunches.
âYouâd think theyâd make the maintenance corridors tall enough for
Belters to work in,â she said irritably .
Holden touched the wall almost reverently , tracing a corridor
identification number carved right into the stone.
âThe Belters who built this place werenâ t tall,â he said. âThe se are
some of the main power lines. This tunnel goes back to the first Belt colony .
The people who carved it grew up in gravity .â
Miller , who also had to duck his head, sat on the floor with a grunt and
popping knees.
âHistory lesson later ,â he said. âLetâ s figure a way of f this rock.â
Amos, studying the bundles of cable intently , said over his shoulder ,
âIf you see a frayed spot, donât touch it. This thick fucker right here is a
couple million volts. Thatâd melt your shit down real good.â
Alex sat down next to Naomi, grimacing when his butt hit the cold
stone floor .
âYou know ,â he said, âif they decide to seal up the station, they might
pump all the air outta these maintenance corridors.â
âI get it,â Holde n said loudly . âItâs a shitty and uncomfortable hiding
spot. Y ou have my permission to now shut up about that.â
He squatted down across the corridor from Miller and said, âOkay ,
Detective. Now what?â
âNow ,â Miller said, âwe wait for the sweep to pass us by, and get
behind it, try to get to the docks. The folks in the shelters are easy to avoid.
Shelters are up deep. T rickâs going to be getting through the casino levels.â
âCanâ t we just use these maintenance passages to move around?â Alex
asked.
Amos shook his head. âNot without a map, we wonâ t. You get lost in
here, youâre in trouble,â he said.
Ignoring them, Holden said, âOkay , so we wait for everyone to move
to the radiation shelters and then we leave.â
Miller nodded at him, and then the two men sat staring at each other
for a moment. The air between them seemed to thicken, the silence taking
on a meaning of its own. Miller shrugged like his jacket itched.
âWhy do you think a bunch of Ceres mobsters are moving everyone to
radiation shelters when thereâ s no actual radiation danger?â Holden finally
said. âAnd why are the Eros cops letting them?â
âGood questions,â Miller said.
âIf they were using these yahoos, it helps explain why their attempted
kidnapping at the hotel went so poorly . They donâ t seem like pros.â
âNope,â Miller said. âThatâ s not their usual area of expertise.â
âWould you two be quiet?â Naomi said.
For almost a minute they were.
âItâd be really stupid,â Holden said, âto go take a look at whatâ s going
on, wouldnâ t it?â
âYes. Whatever âs going on at those shelters, you know thatâs where all
the guards and patrols will be,â Miller said.
âYeah,â Holden said.
âCaptain,â Naomi said, a warning in her voice.
âStill,â Holden said, talking to Miller , âyou hate a mystery .â
âI do at that,â Miller replied with a nod and a faint smile. âAnd you,
my friend, are a damn busybody .â
âItâs been said.â
âGoddamn it,â Naomi said quietly .
âWhat is it, Boss?â Amos asked.
âThese two just broke our getaway plan,â Naomi replied. Then she
said to Holden, âYou guys are going to be very bad for each other and, by
extension, us.â
âNo,â Holden replied. âYou arenâ t coming along. You stay here with
Amos and Alex. Give usââhe looked at his terminalââthree hours to go
look and come back. If we arenâ t hereââ
âWe leave you to the gangsters and the three of us get jobs on Tycho
and live happily ever after ,â Naomi said.
âYeah,â Holden said with a grin. âDonâ t be a hero.â
âWouldnâ t even consider it, sir .â
Infiltration on Eros
- Holden and Miller separate from the rest of the crew to investigate the suspicious evacuation of Eros by mobsters in riot gear.
- The station's communication network is intentionally disabled, confirming Miller's suspicions of a coordinated and malicious operation.
- The duo observes fake riot police herding citizens into radiation shelters and sealing the doors with electronic keycards.
- Holden and Miller successfully ambush a lone guard at a shelter entrance, using a combination of distraction and lethal force to gain access.
âWe leave you to the gangsters and the three of us get jobs on Tycho and live happily ever after,â Naomi said.
âThese two just broke our getaway plan,â Naomi replied. Then she
said to Holden, âYou guys are going to be very bad for each other and, by
extension, us.â
âNo,â Holden replied. âYou arenâ t coming along. You stay here with
Amos and Alex. Give usââhe looked at his terminalââthree hours to go
look and come back. If we arenâ t hereââ
âWe leave you to the gangsters and the three of us get jobs on Tycho
and live happily ever after ,â Naomi said.
âYeah,â Holden said with a grin. âDonâ t be a hero.â
âWouldnâ t even consider it, sir .â
Holden crouche d in the shadows outside the maintenance hatch and
watched as Ceres mobsters dressed in police riot gear led the citizens of
Eros away in small groups. The PA system continued to declare the
possibility of radiological danger and exhorted the citizens and guests of
Eros to cooperate fully with emergency personnel. Holden had selected a
group to follow and was getting ready to move when Miller placed a hand
on his shoulder .
âWait,â Miller said. âI want to make a call.â
He quickly dialed up a number on his hand terminal, and after a few
moments, a flat gray Network Not A vailable message appeared.
âPhone is down?â Holden asked.
âThatâ s the first thing Iâd do, too,â Miller replied.
âI see,â Holden said even though he really didnâ t.
âWell, I guess itâs just you and me,â Miller said, then took the
magazine out of his gun and began reloading it with cartridges he pulled out
of his coat pocket.
Even though heâd had enough of gunfights to last him the rest of his
life, Holden took out his gun and checked the magazine as well. Heâd
replaced it after the shoot-out in the hotel, and it was full. He racked it and
put it back in the waistband of his pants. Miller , he noticed, kept his out,
holding it close to his thigh, where his coat mostly covered it.
It wasnât difficult following the groups up through the station toward
the inner section s where the radiation shelters were. As long as they kept
moving in the same direction as the crowds, no one gave them a second
look. Holden made a mental note of the many corridor intersections where
men in riot gear stood guard. It would be much tougher coming back down.
When the group they were following eventually stopped outside a
large metal door marked with the ancient radiation symbol, Holden and
Miller slipped off to the side and hid behind a large planter filled with ferns
and a couple of stunted trees. Holden watched the fake riot cops order
everyone into the shelter and then seal the door behind them with the swipe
of a card. All but one of them left, the remaining one standing guard outside
the door .
Miller whispered, âLetâ s ask him to let us in.â
âFollow my lead,â Holden replied, then stood up and began walking
toward the guard.
âHey , shithead, you supposed to be in a shelter or in the casino, so get
the fuck back to your group,â the guard said, his hand on the butt of his gun.
Holden held up his hands placat ingly , smiled, and kept walking. âHey ,
I lost my group. Got mixed up somehow . Iâm not from here, you know ,â he
said.
The guard pointed down the corridor with the stun baton in his left
hand.
âGo that way till you hit the ramps down,â he said.
Miller seemed to appear out of nowhere in the dimly lit corridor , his
gun already out and pointed at the guardâ s head. He thumbed off the safety
with an audible click.
âHow about we just join the group already inside?â he said. âOpen it
up.â
The guard looked at Miller out of the corners of his eyes, not turning
his head at all. His hands went up, and he dropped the baton.
âYou donâ t want to do that, man,â the fake cop said.
âI kind of think he does,â Hold en said. âYou should do what he says.
Heâs not a very nice person.â
The Radiation Trap
- Holden and Miller use lethal threats to force a guard to open a sealed blast door in a dark corridor.
- Upon opening the door, they discover hundreds of unmoving bodies scattered across a dimly lit room.
- The guard collapses immediately upon entering, and Miller begins to sway and cough from an unknown atmospheric contaminant.
- Their hand terminals trigger a high-level radiation alarm, indicating they have received a lethal dose of exposure.
- Holden realizes they have only hours before severe symptoms begin and insists they must reach their ship for medical treatment.
âIt means weâll be bleeding from our rectums in about six hours,â Holden said.
toward the guard.
âHey , shithead, you supposed to be in a shelter or in the casino, so get
the fuck back to your group,â the guard said, his hand on the butt of his gun.
Holden held up his hands placat ingly , smiled, and kept walking. âHey ,
I lost my group. Got mixed up somehow . Iâm not from here, you know ,â he
said.
The guard pointed down the corridor with the stun baton in his left
hand.
âGo that way till you hit the ramps down,â he said.
Miller seemed to appear out of nowhere in the dimly lit corridor , his
gun already out and pointed at the guardâ s head. He thumbed off the safety
with an audible click.
âHow about we just join the group already inside?â he said. âOpen it
up.â
The guard looked at Miller out of the corners of his eyes, not turning
his head at all. His hands went up, and he dropped the baton.
âYou donâ t want to do that, man,â the fake cop said.
âI kind of think he does,â Hold en said. âYou should do what he says.
Heâs not a very nice person.â
Miller pushed the barrel of his gun against the guardâ s head and said,
âYou know what we used to call a âno-brainer â back at the station house?
Itâs when a shot to the head actually blows the entire brain out of someoneâ s
skull. It usually happens when a gun is pressed to the victimâ s head right
about here. The gasâs got nowh ere to go. Pops the brain right out through
the exit wound.â
âThey said not to open these up once theyâd been sealed, man,â the
guard said, speaking so fast he ran all the words together . âThey were pretty
serious about that.â
âThis is the last time I ask,â Miller said. âNext time I just use the card
I took of f your body .â
Holden turned the guard around to face the door and pulled the
handgun out of the manâ s belt holster . He hoped all Miller âs threats were
just threats. He suspected they werenâ t.
âJust open the door, and weâll let you go, I promise,â Holden said to
the guard.
The guard nodded and moved up to the door, then slid his card through
it and punched in a number on the keypad. The heavy blast door slid open.
Beyond it, the room was even darker than the corridor outside. A few
emer gency LED s glowed a sullen red. In the faint illuminati on, Holden
could see dozens⌠hundr eds of bodies scattered across the floor ,
unmoving.
âAre they dead?â Holden asked.
âI donâ t know nothing aboutââ the guard said, but Miller cut him of f.
âYou go in first,â Miller said, and pushed the guard forward.
âHold on,â Holden said. âI donât think itâs a good idea to just charge in
here.â
Three things happened at once. The guard took four steps forward and
then collapsed on the floor . Miller sneezed once, loudly , and then started to
sway drunkenly . And both Holdenâ s and Miller âs hand terminals began an
angry electric buzzing.
Miller staggered back and said, âThe doorâŚâ
Holden hit the button and the door slid shut again.
âGas,â Miller said, then coughed. âThereâ s gas in there.â
While the ex-cop leaned against the corridor wall and coughed, Holden
took out his terminal to shut off the buzzing. But the alarm flashing on its
screen wasnât an air-contaminat ion alert. It was the venerable three wedge
shapes pointing inward. Radiation. As he watched, the symbol, which
should have been white, shifted through an angry orange color to dark red.
Miller was looking at his too, his expression unreadable.
âWeâve been dosed,â Holden said.
âIâve never actually seen the detector activate,â Miller said, his voice
rough and faint after his coughin g fit. âWhat does it mean when the thing is
red?â
âIt means weâll be bleeding from our rectums in about six hours,â
Holden said. âW e have to get to the ship. Itâll have the meds we need.â
âWhat,â Miller said, âthe fuck⌠is going on?â
Incubators and Executioners
- Holden and Miller discover their radiation detectors have turned red, indicating they have received a lethal dose of radiation and must reach their ship for medication.
- Holden theorizes that the station's population is being used as live incubators for the mysterious 'bug' that killed Julie Mao, fueled by the intentional radiation exposure.
- Miller cold-bloodedly executes two fake riot cops in front of a group of civilians, demonstrating a ruthless tactical efficiency and a lack of hesitation.
- The pair realizes the entire station setup is a trap designed to gas and infect the residents under the guise of providing radiation shelter.
- Despite the urgency of their medical condition, Miller remains grimly convinced that many more people will need to be killed before they can escape.
âIt means weâll be bleeding from our rectums in about six hours,â Holden said.
should have been white, shifted through an angry orange color to dark red.
Miller was looking at his too, his expression unreadable.
âWeâve been dosed,â Holden said.
âIâve never actually seen the detector activate,â Miller said, his voice
rough and faint after his coughin g fit. âWhat does it mean when the thing is
red?â
âIt means weâll be bleeding from our rectums in about six hours,â
Holden said. âW e have to get to the ship. Itâll have the meds we need.â
âWhat,â Miller said, âthe fuck⌠is going on?â
Holden grabbed Miller by the arm and led him back down the corridor
toward the ramp s. Holdenâ s skin felt warm and itchy . He didnâ t know if it
was radiation burn or psychosomatic. W ith the amount of radiation heâd just
taken, it was a good thing he had sperm tucked away in Montana and on
Europa.
Thinking that made his balls itch.
âThey nuke the station,â Holden said. âHell, maybe they just pretend
to nuke it. Then they drag everyone down here and toss them into radiation
shelters that are only radioacti ve on the inside. Gas them to keep them
quiet.â
âThere are easier ways to kill people,â Miller said, his breathing
coming in ragged gasps as they ran down the corridor .
âSo it has to be more than that,â Holden said. âThe bug, right? The one
that killed that girl. It⌠fed on radiation.â
âIncubators,â Miller said, nodding in agreement.
They arrived at one of the ramps to the lower levels, but a group of
citizens led by two fake riot cops were coming up. Holden grabbed Miller
and pulled him to one side, where they could hide in the shadow of a closed
noodle shop.
âSo they infected them, right?â Holden said in a whisper , waiting for
the group to pass. âMaybe fake radiation meds with the bug in it. Maybe
that brow n goo just spread around on the floor . Then whatever was in the
girl, Julieââ
He stopp ed when Miller walked away from him straight at the group
that had just come up the ramp.
âOfficer,â said Miller to one of the fake cops.
They both stopped, and one of them said, âY ou supposed to beââ
Miller shot him in the throat, right below his helmetâ s faceplate. Then
he swiveled smoothly and shot the other guard in the inside of the thigh,
just below the groin. When the man fell backward, yelling in pain, Miller
walked up and shot him again, this time in the neck.
A couple of the citizens started screaming. Miller pointed his gun at
them and they got quiet.
âGo down a level or two and find someplace to hide,â he said. âDo not
cooperate with these men, even though theyâre dressed like police. They do
not have your best interests at heart. Go.â
The citizens hesitated, then ran. Miller took a few cartridges out of his
pocket and began replacing the three heâd fired. Holden starte d to speak,
but Miller cut him of f.
âTake the throat shot if you can. Most people, the faceplate and chest
armor donât quite cover that gap. If the neck is covered, then shoot the
inside of the thigh. V ery thin armor there. Mobility issue. T akes most people
down in one shot.â
Holden nodded, as though that all made sense.
âOkay ,â Holden said. âSay , letâs get back to the ship before we bleed to
death, right? No more shooting people if we can help it.â His voice sounded
calmer than he felt.
Miller slapped the magazine back into his gun and chambered a round.
âIâm guessing thereâ s a lot more people need to be shot before this is
over,â he said. âBut sure. First things first.â
Chapter T wenty-Eight
Miller
The first time Miller killed anyone was in his third year worki ng security .
Heâd been twenty-two, just married, talking about having kids. As the new
guy on the contract, heâd gotten the shit jobs: patrolling levels so high the
Coriolis made him seasick, taking domestic disturbance calls in holes no
The Weight of Killing
- Holden and Miller attempt to navigate back to the ship while suffering from radiation sickness and the aftermath of a firefight.
- Miller reflects on his first kill as a young security officer, realizing that taking a life was never as difficult for him as training suggested.
- The narrative reveals a dark shift in Miller's psyche, noting that he has begun to find a grim sense of relief or 'cessation of pain' in killing since Julie's death.
- The duo faces the tactical challenge of bypassing numerous guards on Eros to reunite with Naomi and the rest of the crew.
- Despite their different backgrounds and Miller's unsettling comfort with violence, they must rely on each other to survive the station's lockdown.
Pleasure in killing hadnât come until after Julie, and it wasnât really pleasure as much as a brief cessation of pain.
Holden nodded, as though that all made sense.
âOkay ,â Holden said. âSay , letâs get back to the ship before we bleed to
death, right? No more shooting people if we can help it.â His voice sounded
calmer than he felt.
Miller slapped the magazine back into his gun and chambered a round.
âIâm guessing thereâ s a lot more people need to be shot before this is
over,â he said. âBut sure. First things first.â
Chapter T wenty-Eight
Miller
The first time Miller killed anyone was in his third year worki ng security .
Heâd been twenty-two, just married, talking about having kids. As the new
guy on the contract, heâd gotten the shit jobs: patrolling levels so high the
Coriolis made him seasick, taking domestic disturbance calls in holes no
wider than a storage bin, standin g guard on the drunk tank to keep predators
from raping the unconscious. The normal hazing. Heâd known to expect it.
Heâd thought he could take it.
The call had been from an illegal restaurant almost at the mass center .
At less than a tenth of a g, gravity had been little more than a suggestion,
and his inner ear had been confused and angered by the chang e in spin. If
he thoug ht about it, he could still remember the sound of raised voices, too
fast and slurred for words. The smell of bathtub cheese. The thin haze of
smoke from the cheap electric griddle.
It had happened fast. The perp had come out of the hole with a gun in
one hand, dragging a woman by the hair with the other . Miller âs partner , a
ten-year veteran named Carson, had shouted out the warning. The perp had
turned, swinging the gun out at armâ s length like a stuntman in a video.
All through training, the instructors had said that you couldnâ t know
what youâd do until the momen t came. Killing another human being was
hard. Some people couldnâ t. The perpâ s gun came around; the gunman
dropped the woman and shoute d. It turned out that, for Miller at least, it
wasnâ t all that hard.
Afterward, heâd been through mandatory counseling. Heâd cried. Heâd
suffered the nightmares and the shakes and all the things that cops suffered
quietly and didnâ t talk about. But even then, it seemed to be happening at a
distance, like heâd gotten too drunk and was watching himself throw up. It
was just a physical reaction. It would pass.
The important thing was he knew the answer to the question. Yes, if he
needed to, he could take a life.
It wasnât until now, walking through the corridors of Eros, that heâd
taken joy in it. Even taking down the poor bastard in that first firefight had
felt like the sad necessity of work. Pleasure in killing hadnâ t come until
after Julie, and it wasnâ t really pleasure as much as a brief cessation of pain.
He held the gun low. Holden started down the ramp, and Miller
followed, letting the Earther take point. Holden walked faster than he did
and with the uncommented athleticism of someone who lived in a wide
variety of gravit ies. Miller had the feeling heâd made Holden nervous, and
he regre tted that a little. He hadnâ t intended to, and he really needed to get
aboard Holdenâ s ship if he was going to find Julieâ s secrets.
Or, for that matter , not die of radiation sickness in the next few hours.
That seemed a finer point than it probably was.
âOkay ,â Holden said at the bottom of the ramp. âWe need to get back
down, and there are a lot of guards between us and Naomi that are going to
be really confused by two guys walking the wrong direction.â
âThatâ s a problem,â Miller agreed.
âAny thoughts?â
Miller frowned and considered the flooring. The Eros floors were
different than Ceresâ. Laminate with flecks of gold.
âTubes arenâ t going to be running,â he said. âIf they are, itâll be in
lockdown mode , where it only stops at the holding pen down in the casino.
So thatâ s out.â
âMaintenance corridor again?â
Escape from Eros
- Miller and Holden attempt to navigate the unfamiliar corridors of Eros while suffering from the early stages of radiation sickness.
- The duo faces a tight two-hour deadline to reach Holden's ship before it departs, all while avoiding security forces and lockdown protocols.
- The physical toll of radiation damage begins to slow their movements, creating a sense of urgency as they search for maintenance shafts.
- A confrontation with amateur security guards ends in violence when Miller uses his past experience as a Ceres detective to gain a lethal advantage.
It wasnât up to the threshold of consciousness, but Miller knew that both of their bodies were starting to feel the radiation damage.
variety of gravit ies. Miller had the feeling heâd made Holden nervous, and
he regre tted that a little. He hadnâ t intended to, and he really needed to get
aboard Holdenâ s ship if he was going to find Julieâ s secrets.
Or, for that matter , not die of radiation sickness in the next few hours.
That seemed a finer point than it probably was.
âOkay ,â Holden said at the bottom of the ramp. âWe need to get back
down, and there are a lot of guards between us and Naomi that are going to
be really confused by two guys walking the wrong direction.â
âThatâ s a problem,â Miller agreed.
âAny thoughts?â
Miller frowned and considered the flooring. The Eros floors were
different than Ceresâ. Laminate with flecks of gold.
âTubes arenâ t going to be running,â he said. âIf they are, itâll be in
lockdown mode , where it only stops at the holding pen down in the casino.
So thatâ s out.â
âMaintenance corridor again?â
âIf we can find one that goes between levels,â Miller said. âMight be a
little tricky, but it seems like a better bet than shooting our way past a
couple dozen assholes in armor . How long have we got before your friend
takes of f?â
Holden looked at his hand terminal. The radiation alarm was still deep
red. Miller wondered how long those took to reset.
âA little more than two hours,â Holden said. âShouldnâ t be a problem.â
âLetâ s see what we can find,â Miller said.
The corridors nearest the radiation sheltersâthe death traps, the
incubatorsâhad been emptied. Wide passages built to accommodate the
ancient construction equipment that had carved Eros into a human
habitation were eerie with only Holdenâ s and Miller âs footsteps and the hum
of the air recyclers. Miller hadnâ t noticed when the emer gency
announcements had stopped, but the absence of them now seemed ominous.
If it had been Ceres, he would have known where to go, where
everything led, how to move gracefully from one stage to another . On Eros,
all he had was an educated guess. That wasnâ t so bad.
But he could tell it was taking too long, and worse than thatâthey
werenâ t talking about it; neither one spokeâthey were walking more slowly
than normal. It wasnâ t up to the threshold of consciousness, but Miller knew
that both of their bodies were starting to feel the radiation damage. It wasnâ t
going to get better .
âOkay ,â Holden said. âSomewhere around here there has to be a
maintenance shaft.â
âCould also try the tube station,â Miller said. âThe cars run in vacuum,
but there might be some service tunnels running parallel.â
âDonâ t you think theyâd have shut those down as part of the big
roundup?â
âProbably ,â Miller said.
âHey! Y ou two! What the fuck you think youâre doing up here?â
Miller looked back over his shoulder . Two men in riot gear were
waving at them menacingly . Holden said something sharp under his breath.
Miller narrowed his eyes.
The thing was these men were amateurs. The beginning of an idea
moved in the back of Miller âs mind as he watched the two approach. Killing
them and taking their gear wouldnât work. There was nothing like scorch
marks and blood to make it clear something had happened. ButâŚ
âMiller ,â Holden said, a warning in his voice.
âYeah,â Miller said. âI know .â
âI said what the fuck are you two doing here?â one of the security men
said. âThe stationâ s on lockdow n. Everyone goes down to the casino level
or up to the radiation shelters.â
âWe were just looking for a way to⌠ah⌠get down to the casino
level,â Holden said, smiling and being nonthreatening. âWeâre not from
around here, andââ
The closer of the two guards jabbed the butt of his rifle neatly into
Holdenâ s leg. The Earther staggered, and Miller shot the guard just below
the faceplate, then turned to the one still standing, mouth agape.
âYouâre Mikey Ko, right?â Miller said.
The manâ s face went even paler , but he nodded. Holden groaned and
stood.
âDetective Miller ,â Miller said. âBusted you on Ceres about four years
The Old Script Ends
- Miller and Holden encounter two guards, leading to a lethal confrontation where Miller recognizes one as a criminal he previously arrested on Ceres.
- The guard, Mikey Ko, reveals that a massive logistical buildup involving surveillance, servers, and scientific equipment has been occurring on the station for months.
- Ko explains that the operation was originally managed by a group like Protogen before being handed off to hired muscle for the final stages.
- Miller realizes the station's activity was stalled until Julie Mao's arrival inadvertently restarted the 'game' involving the Phoebe infection.
- Despite the guard's cooperation, Miller abruptly executes him, shocking Holden and signaling a shift in Miller's moral boundaries.
Miller nodded in agreement, leaned close, tucking the barrel of his gun through the interleaving of armor at Koâ s belly , and shot him.
âWe were just looking for a way to⌠ah⌠get down to the casino
level,â Holden said, smiling and being nonthreatening. âWeâre not from
around here, andââ
The closer of the two guards jabbed the butt of his rifle neatly into
Holdenâ s leg. The Earther staggered, and Miller shot the guard just below
the faceplate, then turned to the one still standing, mouth agape.
âYouâre Mikey Ko, right?â Miller said.
The manâ s face went even paler , but he nodded. Holden groaned and
stood.
âDetective Miller ,â Miller said. âBusted you on Ceres about four years
ago. You got a little happy in a bar. Tappanâ s, I think? Hit a girl with a pool
cue?â
âOh, hey,â the man said with a frightened smile. âYeah, I remember
you. How you been doing?â
âGood and bad,â Miller said. âYou know how it is. Give the Earther
your gun.â
Ko looked from Miller to Holden and back, licking his lips and
judging his chances. Miller shook his head.
âSeriously ,â Miller said. âGive him the gun.â
âSure, yeah. No problem.â
This was the kind of man whoâ d killed Julie, Miller thought. Stupid.
Shortsighted. A man born with a sense for raw opportunity where his soul
should have been. Miller âs mental Julie shook her head in disgust and
sorrow , and Miller found himself wondering if she meant the thug now
handing his rifle to Holden or himself. Maybe both.
âWhatâ s the deal here, Mikey?â Miller asked.
âWhat do you mean?â the guard said, playing stupid, like they were in
an interr ogation cell. Stalling for time. Walking through the old script of
cop and criminal as if it still made sense. As if everything hadnâ t changed.
Miller was surprised by a tightness in his throat. He didnâ t know what it
was there for .
âThe job,â he said. âWhatâ s the job?â
âI donâ t knowââ
âHey ,â Miller said gently . âI just killed your buddy .â
âAnd thatâ s his third today ,â Holden said. âI saw him.â
Miller could see it in the manâ s eyes: the cunning, the shift, the move
from one strateg y to another . It was old and familiar and as predictable as
water moving down.
âHey ,â Ko said, âitâs just a job. They told us about a year ago how we
were making a big move, right ? But no one knows what it is. So a few
months back, they start moving guys over. Training us up like we were
cops, you know?â
âWho was training you?â Miller said.
âThe last guys. The ones who were working the contract before us,â
Ko said.
âProtogen?â
âSomething like that, yeah,â he said. âThen they took off, and we took
over. Just muscle, you know . Some smuggling.â
âSmuggling what?â
âAll kinds of shit,â Ko said. He was starting to feel safe, and it showed
in the way he held himself and the way he spoke. âSurveillance equipment,
communication arrays, serious-as-fuck servers with their own little gel
software wonks already built in. Scientific equipment too. Stuff for
checking the water and the air and shit. And these ancient remote-access
robots like youâd use in a vacuum dig. All sorts of shit.â
âWhere was it going to?â Holden asked.
âHere,â Ko said, gesturing to the air, the stone, the station. âItâs all
here. They were like months installing it all. And then for weeks, nothing.â
âWhat do you mean, nothing?â Miller asked.
âNothing nothing. All this buildup and then we sat around with our
thumbs up our butts.â
Something had gone wrong. The Phoebe bug hadnâ t made its
rendezvous, but then Julie had come, Miller thought, and the game had
turned back on. He saw her again as if he were in her apartment. The long,
spreading tendri ls of whatever the hell it was, the bone spurs pressing out
against her skin, the black froth of filament pouring from her eyes.
âThe payâs good, though,â Ko said philosophically . âAnd it was kind
of nice taking some time of f.â
Miller nodded in agreement, leaned close, tucking the barrel of his gun
through the interleaving of armor at Koâ s belly , and shot him.
âWhat the fuck!â Holden said as Miller put his gun into his jacket
pocket.
The Deception of Miller
- Miller shoots Ko in the gut to use him as a prop for a deceptive ruse to bypass security guards.
- Holden is horrified by Miller's cold-blooded pragmatism and the violent nature of their escape plan.
- The duo successfully bluffs their way past a group of guards by posing as Protogen installers and claiming to be under fire.
- Miller reflects on his own loss of humanity as he counts his recent kills and navigates the dying station.
Miller nodded in agreement, leaned close, tucking the barrel of his gun through the interleaving of armor at Koâs belly, and shot him.
turned back on. He saw her again as if he were in her apartment. The long,
spreading tendri ls of whatever the hell it was, the bone spurs pressing out
against her skin, the black froth of filament pouring from her eyes.
âThe payâs good, though,â Ko said philosophically . âAnd it was kind
of nice taking some time of f.â
Miller nodded in agreement, leaned close, tucking the barrel of his gun
through the interleaving of armor at Koâ s belly , and shot him.
âWhat the fuck!â Holden said as Miller put his gun into his jacket
pocket.
âWhat did you think was going to happen?â Miller said, squatting
down beside the gut-shot man. âItâ s not like he was going to let us go.â
âYeah, okay ,â Holden said. âButâŚâ
âHelp me get him up,â Mille r said, hooking an arm behind Koâs
shoulder . Ko shrieked when Miller lifted him.
âWhat?â
âGet his other side,â Miller said. âMan needs medical attention, right?â
âUm. Y es,â Holden said.
âSo get his other side.â
It wasnâ t as far back to the radiation shelters as Miller had expected,
which had its good points and its bad ones. On the upside, Ko was still alive
and screaming. The chances were better that heâd be lucid, which wasnâ t
what Miller had intended. But as they came near the first group of guards,
Koâs babbling seemed scattered enough to work.
âHey!â Miller shouted. âSome help over here!â
At the head of the ramp, four of the guards looked at one another and
then started moving toward them, curiosity winning out over basic
operating procedures. Holden was breathing hard. Miller was too. Ko
wasnâ t that heavy . It was a bad sign.
âWhat the hell is this?â one of the guards said.
âThereâ s a bunch of people holed up back there,â Miller said.
âResistance. I thought you people swept this level.â
âThat wasnâ t our job,â the guy said. âWeâre just making sure the
groups from the casino get to the shelters.â
âWell, someone screwed up,â Miller snapped. âY ou have transport?â
The guards looked at each other again.
âWe can call for one,â a guy at the back said.
âNever mind,â Miller said. âY ou boys go find the shooters.â
âWait a minute,â the first guy said. âExactly who the hell are you?â
âThe installers from Protogen,â Holden said. âWeâre replacing the
sensors that failed. This guy was supposed to help us.â
âI didnâ t hear about that,â the leader said.
Miller dug a finger under Koâs armor and squeezed. Ko shrieked and
tried to writhe away from him.
âTalk to your boss about it on your own time,â Miller said. âCome on.
Letâs get this asshole to a medic.â
âHold on!â the first guard said, and Miller sighed. Four of them. If he
dropped Ko and jumped for cover⌠but there wasnâ t much cover . And who
the hell knew what Holden would do?
âWhere are the shooters?â the guard asked. Miller kept himself from
smiling.
âThereâ s a hole about a quarter klick anti-spinward,â Miller said. âThe
other oneâ s bodyâ s still there. Y ou canâ t miss it.â
Miller turned down the ramp. Behind him, the guards were talking
among themselves, debating what to do, who to call, who to send.
âYouâre comple tely insane,â Holden said over Koâs semicon scious
weeping.
Maybe he was right.
When, Miller wondered, does someone stop being human? There had to be
a moment, some decision that you made, and before it, you were one
person, and after it, someone else. W alking down through the levels of Eros,
Koâs bleeding body slung betw een him and Holden, Miller reflected. He
was probably dying of radiation damage. He was lying his way past half a
dozen men who were only letting him by because they were used to people
being scared of them and he wasnât. He had killed three people in the last
two hours. Four if he counted Ko. Probably safer to say four , then.
The analytical part of his mind, the small, still voice he had cultivated
for years, watched him move and replayed all his decisions. Everything
Miller's Moral Disintegration
- Miller experiences a profound moment of self-reflection, realizing that his recent violent actions indicate he has 'gone off the rails.'
- He concludes that his loss of self was not a single event but a cumulative erosion of his humanity over years of cynicism and isolation.
- Miller recognizes that his obsession with Julie Mao was actually a search for the lost, empathetic part of his own soul.
- Upon returning to their hideout, Miller and Holden discover that the rest of the crew has abandoned them, leaving them alone in their deteriorating state.
Julie had become the part of him that was capable of human feeling. The symbol of what he could have been if he hadnât been this.
Koâs bleeding body slung betw een him and Holden, Miller reflected. He
was probably dying of radiation damage. He was lying his way past half a
dozen men who were only letting him by because they were used to people
being scared of them and he wasnât. He had killed three people in the last
two hours. Four if he counted Ko. Probably safer to say four , then.
The analytical part of his mind, the small, still voice he had cultivated
for years, watched him move and replayed all his decisions. Everything
heâd done had made perfect sense at the time. Shooting Ko. Shooting the
other three. Leaving the safety of the crewâ s hideout to investigate the
evacuation. Emo tionally , it had all been obvious at the time. It was only
when he considered it from outside that it seemed dangerous. If heâd seen it
in someone elseâMuss, Havelock, Sematimbaâhe wouldnâ t have taken
more than a minute to realize theyâd gone off the rails. Since it was him, he
had taken longer to notice. But Holden was right. Somewhere along the
line, heâd lost himself.
He wanted to think it had been finding Julie, seeing what had
happened to her body , knowing he hadnâ t been able to save her, but that was
only because it seemed like the sentimental moment. The truth was his
decisions before thenâleaving Ceres to go on a wild hunt for Julie,
drinking himself out of a career , remaining a cop for even a day after that
first kill all those years earlierânone of them seemed to make sense,
viewed objectively . Heâd lost a marriage to a woman heâd loved once. Heâd
lived hip deep in the worst humanity had to offer. Heâd learned firsthand
that he was capable of killing another human being. And nowhere along the
line could he say that there, at that moment, he had been a sane, whole man,
and that afterward, he hadnâ t.
Maybe it was a cumulative process, like smoking cigarettes. One
didnâ t do much. Five didnâ t do much more. Every emotion heâd shut down,
every human contact heâd spurned, every love and friendship and moment
of compassion from which heâd turned had taken him a degree away from
himself. Until now, heâd been able to kill men with impunity . To face his
impending death with a denial that let him make plans and take action.
In his mind, Julie Mao tilted her head, listening to his thoughts . In his
mind, she held him, her body against his in a way that was more comforting
than erotic. Consoling. For giving.
This was why he had searched for her. Julie had become the part of
him that was capable of human feeling. The symbol of what he could have
been if he hadnâ t been this. There was no reason to think his imagined Julie
had anything in common with the real woman. Meeting her would have
been a disappointment for them both.
He had to believe that, the same way heâd had to believe everything
that had cut him of f from love before.
Holden stopped, the bodyâcorpse nowâof Ko tugging Miller back to
himself.
âWhat?â Miller said.
Holden nodded at the access panel in front of them. Miller looked at it,
uncomprehending, and then recognized it. Theyâd made it. They were back
at the hideout.
âAre you all right?â Holden said.
âYeah,â Miller said. âJust woolgathering. Sorry .â
He dropped Ko, and the thug slid to the floor with a sad thud. Miller âs
arm had fallen asleep. He shook it, but the tingling didnâ t go away . A wave
of vertigo and nausea passed through him. Symptoms, he thought.
âHowâd we do for time?â Miller asked.
âWeâre a little past deadline. Five minutes. Itâll be fine,â Holden said,
and slid the door open.
The space beyond, where Naom i and Alex and Amos had been, was
empty .
âFuck me,â Holden said.
Chapter T wenty-Nine
Holden
âFuck me,â Holden said. And a moment later: âThey left us.â
No. She had left him. Naomi had said she would, but confronted with
the reality of it, Holden realized that he hadnâ t really believed her. But here
it wasâthe proof. The empty space where she used to be. His heart
The Reality of Abandonment
- Holden and Miller discover that Naomi and the crew have seemingly followed orders and left them behind on Eros.
- Both men are suffering from radiation poisoning, facing a grim death as the station's network remains down.
- Miller presents Holden with three stark options: find the ship, die in a shootout, or succumb to a slow, agonizing death from radiation.
- Holden experiences a profound existential crisis, realizing for the first time that his own death is a tangible and imminent reality.
The universe without him in it didnât make any sense at all.
He dropped Ko, and the thug slid to the floor with a sad thud. Miller âs
arm had fallen asleep. He shook it, but the tingling didnâ t go away . A wave
of vertigo and nausea passed through him. Symptoms, he thought.
âHowâd we do for time?â Miller asked.
âWeâre a little past deadline. Five minutes. Itâll be fine,â Holden said,
and slid the door open.
The space beyond, where Naom i and Alex and Amos had been, was
empty .
âFuck me,â Holden said.
Chapter T wenty-Nine
Holden
âFuck me,â Holden said. And a moment later: âThey left us.â
No. She had left him. Naomi had said she would, but confronted with
the reality of it, Holden realized that he hadnâ t really believed her. But here
it wasâthe proof. The empty space where she used to be. His heart
hammered and his throat tightened, breath coming in gasps. The sick
feeling in his gut was either despair or his colon sloughing off its lining. He
was going to die sitting outside a cheap hotel on Eros because Naomi had
done exactly what sheâd said she would. What he himself had ordered her
to do. His resentment refused to listen to reason.
âWeâre dead,â he said, and sat down on the edge of a fern-filled
planter .
âHow long do we have?â Miller asked, looking up and down the
corridor while he fidgeted with his gun.
âNo idea,â Holden replied, gesturing vaguely at his terminalâ s flashing
red radiation symbol. âHours before we really start to feel it, I think, but I
donât know . God, I wish Shed was still here.â
âShed?â
âFriend of mine,â Holden said, not feeling up to elaborating. âGood
med tech.â
âCall her ,â Miller said.
Holden looked at his terminal and tapped the screen a few times.
âNetworkâ s still down,â he said.
âAll right,â Miller said. âLetâ s go to your ship. See if itâ s still in dock.â
âTheyâll be gone. Naomiâ s keep ing the crew alive. She warned me, but
Iââ
âSo letâs go anyway ,â Miller said. He was shifting from one foot to the
other and looking down the corridor as he spoke.
âMiller ,â Holden said, then stopped. Miller was clearly on edge, and
heâd shot four people. Holden was increasingly frightened of the former
cop. As if reading his mind, Miller stepped close, the two-meter man
towering over him where he sat. Miller smiled ruefully , his eyes
unnervingly gentle. Holden would almost have preferred they be
threatening.
âWay I see it, thereâs three ways this can go,â Miller said. âOne, we
find your ship still in dock, get the meds we need, and maybe we live. Two,
we try to get to the ship, and along the way we run into a bunch of mafia
thugs. Die gloriously in a hail of bullets. Three, we sit here and leak out of
our eyes and assholes.â
Holden said nothing; he just stared up at the cop and frowned.
âIâm liking the first two better than the last one,â Miller said. His voice
made it sound like an apology . âHow about you come with?â
Holden laughed before he could catch himself, but Miller didnâ t look
like he was taking of fense.
âSure,â Holden said. âI just needed to feel sorry for myself for a
minute. Letâ s go get killed by the mafia.â
He said it with much more bravado than he felt. The truth was he
didnâ t want to die. Even during his time in the navy , the idea of dying in the
line of duty had always seemed distant and unreal. His ship would never be
destroyed, and if it was, he would make it to the escape shuttle. The
universe without him in it didnât make any sense at all. Heâd taken risks;
heâd seen other people die. Even people he loved. Now , for the first time,
his own death was a real thing.
He looked at the cop. Heâd known the man less than a day, didnâ t trust
him, and wasnâ t sure he much liked him. And this was who heâd die with.
Holden shuddered and stood up, pulling his gun out of his waistband. Under
the panic and fear , there was a deep feeling of calm. He hoped it would last.
âAfter you,â Holden said. âIf we make it, remind me to call my
mothers.â
The casinos were a powder keg waiting for a match. If the evacuation
Chaos in the Casinos
- Holden confronts his own mortality for the first time, realizing that his previous sense of invincibility in the navy was a facade.
- The station's casinos become a powder keg as fake police in riot gear lead unsuspecting citizens to their deaths under the guise of radiation safety.
- A violent riot erupts after a mafia thug shoots a young teenager, prompting Holden to abandon caution and engage in a desperate gunfight.
- Miller saves Holden's life by exploiting a gap in the thug's heavy body armor after Holden's own shots fail to penetrate the chest plate.
The universe without him in it didnât make any sense at all.
He said it with much more bravado than he felt. The truth was he
didnâ t want to die. Even during his time in the navy , the idea of dying in the
line of duty had always seemed distant and unreal. His ship would never be
destroyed, and if it was, he would make it to the escape shuttle. The
universe without him in it didnât make any sense at all. Heâd taken risks;
heâd seen other people die. Even people he loved. Now , for the first time,
his own death was a real thing.
He looked at the cop. Heâd known the man less than a day, didnâ t trust
him, and wasnâ t sure he much liked him. And this was who heâd die with.
Holden shuddered and stood up, pulling his gun out of his waistband. Under
the panic and fear , there was a deep feeling of calm. He hoped it would last.
âAfter you,â Holden said. âIf we make it, remind me to call my
mothers.â
The casinos were a powder keg waiting for a match. If the evacuation
sweeps had been even moderate ly successful, there were probably a million
or more people crammed into three levels of the station. Hard-l ooking men
in riot gear moved through the crowds, telling everyone to stay put until
they were taken to the radiatio n shelters, keeping the crowd frightened.
Every now and then, a small group of citizens would be led away. Knowing
where they were going made Holdenâ s stomach burn. He wanted to yell out
that cops were fake, that they were killing people. But a riot with this many
people in such a confined space would be a meat grinder . Maybe that was
inevitable but he wasnâ t going to be the one to start it.
Someone else did.
Holden could hear raised voices, the angry rumble of the mob,
followed by the electronically amplified voice of someone in a riot helmet
yelling for people to get back. And then a gunshot, a brief pause, then a
fusillade. People screamed. The entire crowd around Holden and Miller
surged in two opposing directions, some of the people rushing toward the
sound of the conflict, but many more of them running away from it. Holden
spun in the current of bodies; Miller reached out and grabbed the back of
his shirt, gripping it in his fist and yelling for Holden to stay close.
About a dozen meters down the corridor , in a coffee shop seatin g area
separated by a waist-high black iron fence, one of the mafia thugs had been
cut off from his group by a dozen citizens. Gun drawn, he was backing up
and yelling at them to move aside. They kept advancing, their faces wild
with the drunken frenzy of mob violence.
The mafia thug fired once, and one small body staggered forwar d, then
fell to the groun d at the thugâ s feet. Holden couldnâ t tell if it was a boy or a
girl, but they couldnâ t be more than thirteen or fourteen years old. The thug
moved forward, looking down at the small thin figure at his feet, and
pointed his gun at them again.
It was too much.
Holden found himself running down the corridor toward the thug, gun
drawn and screaming for people to get out of the way. When he was about
seven meters away, the crowd split apart enough for him to begin firing.
Half his shots went wild, hitting the coffee shop counter and walls, one
round blowing a stack of ceram ic plates into the air. But a few of them hit
the thug, staggering him back.
Holden vaulted the waist-high metal fence and came to a sliding halt
about three meters from the fake cop and his victim. Holdenâ s gun fired one
last time and then the slide locked in the open position to let him know it
was empty .
The thug didnâ t fall down. He straightened up, looked down at his
torso, and then looked up and pointed his gun at Holdenâ s face. Holden had
time to count the three bullets that were smashed against the heavy chest
armor of the thugâ s riot gear . Die gloriously in a hail of bullets, he thought.
The thug said, âStupid mother fuââ and his head snapped back in a
spray of red. He slumped to the floor .
âGap at the neck, remember?â Miller said from behind him. âChest
Standoff on Eros
- Miller saves Holden by exploiting a gap in a thug's riot gear after Holden's pistol rounds fail against heavy chest armor.
- The station descends into chaos as thousands of panicked civilians clash with a few hundred mafia enforcers.
- Holden attempts to save a mortally wounded child, but Miller coldly observes that the boy is already dead from a high-caliber round.
- The duo finds their path to the docks blocked by thirty-four armored soldiers who are summarily executing anyone attempting to pass.
- Trapped and outgunned, Miller and Holden take a moment of grim respite behind a bank of flashing pachinko machines.
A bright neon sign flashed above the corridor that led out of the casino levels and onto the ramps down to the docks. THANK YOU FOR PLAYING, it read. And YOUâRE ALWAYS A WINNER ON EROS.
about three meters from the fake cop and his victim. Holdenâ s gun fired one
last time and then the slide locked in the open position to let him know it
was empty .
The thug didnâ t fall down. He straightened up, looked down at his
torso, and then looked up and pointed his gun at Holdenâ s face. Holden had
time to count the three bullets that were smashed against the heavy chest
armor of the thugâ s riot gear . Die gloriously in a hail of bullets, he thought.
The thug said, âStupid mother fuââ and his head snapped back in a
spray of red. He slumped to the floor .
âGap at the neck, remember?â Miller said from behind him. âChest
armor âs too thick for a pistol.â
Suddenly dizzy , Holden bent over at the waist, gasping for air. He
tasted lemon at the back of his throat and swallowed twice to stop himself
from throwing up. He was afraid it would be full of blood and stomach
lining. He didnâ t need to see that.
âThanks,â he gasped out, turning his head toward Miller .
Miller just nodded vaguely in his direction, then walked over to the
guard and nudg ed him with one foot. Holden stood up and looked around
the corridor , waiting for the inevitable wave of vengeful mafia enforcers to
come crashing down on them. He didnâ t see any. He and Miller were
standing in a quiet island of calm in the midst of Armageddon. All around
them, tendrils of violence were whipping into high gear. People were
running in every direction; the mafia goons were yelling in booming
amplified voices and punctuating the threats with periodic gunfire. But
there were only hundreds of them, and there were many thousands of angry
and panicked civilians. Miller gestured at the chaos.
âThis is what happens,â he said. âGive a bunch of yaho os the
equipment, and they think they know what theyâre doing.â
Holden crouched beside the fallen child. It was a boy, maybe thirteen,
with Asian features and dark hair. His chest had a gaping wound in it, blood
trickling out instead of gushing . He didnâ t have a pulse that Holden could
find. Holden picked him up anyway, looking around for someplace to take
him.
âHeâ s dead,â Miller said as he replaced the cartridge heâd fired.
âGo to hell. W e donâ t know . If we can get him to the ship, maybeâŚâ
Miller shook his head, a sad but distant expression on his face as he
looked at the child in Holdenâ s arms.
âHe took high-caliber round to the center of mass,â Miller said. âHeâ s
gone.â
âFuck me,â Holden said.
âYou keep saying that.â
A bright neon sign flashed abov e the corridor that led out of the casino
levels and onto the ramps down to the docks. THANK YOU FOR PLAYING, it
read. And YOUâRE ALWAYS A WINNER ON EROS. Below it, two ranks of men in
heavy combat armor blocked the way. They might have given up on crowd
control in the casinos, but they werenâ t letting anyone go.
Holden and Miller crouched behind an overturned coffee cart a
hundred meters from the soldie rs. As they watched, a dozen or so people
made a dash toward the guards and were summarily mowe d down by
machine gun fire, then fell to the deck beside those who had tried before.
âI count thirty-four of them,â Miller said. âHow many can you
handle?â
Holden spun to look at him in surprise, but Miller âs face told him the
former cop was joking.
âKidding aside, how do we get past that?â Holden said.
âThirty men with machine guns and a clear line of sight. No cover to
speak of for the last twenty meters or so,â Miller said. âWe donât get past
that.â
Chapter Thirty
Miller
They sat on the floor with their backs to a bank of pachinko machines no
one was playing , watching the ebb and flow of the violence around them
like it was a soccer game. Miller âs hat was perched on his bent knee. He felt
the vibration against his back when one of the displays cycled through its
dupe-call. The lights glittered and glowed. Holden, beside him, was
The Unfolding Death-Self
- Holden and Miller find themselves pinned down in a chaotic Eros casino, facing a lethal gauntlet of guards with no clear path forward.
- The social order on the station has collapsed into a Bosch-like nightmare where guards casually maim civilians to maintain a fragile, violent control.
- Miller experiences a profound psychological schism, separating his professional detective persona from a newly emerging 'death-self.'
- This internal shift brings Miller a sense of peace and relief as he finally stops trying to hold back the overwhelming chaos of his life and career.
- The realization of his own mortality allows Miller to accept his failures and his unconventional love for the missing Juliette Mao.
His death-self was unfolding in him, and the dark blooming took no effort.
Holden spun to look at him in surprise, but Miller âs face told him the
former cop was joking.
âKidding aside, how do we get past that?â Holden said.
âThirty men with machine guns and a clear line of sight. No cover to
speak of for the last twenty meters or so,â Miller said. âWe donât get past
that.â
Chapter Thirty
Miller
They sat on the floor with their backs to a bank of pachinko machines no
one was playing , watching the ebb and flow of the violence around them
like it was a soccer game. Miller âs hat was perched on his bent knee. He felt
the vibration against his back when one of the displays cycled through its
dupe-call. The lights glittered and glowed. Holden, beside him, was
breathing hard, like heâd run a race. Out beyond them, like something from
Hieronymous Bosch, the casino levels of Eros prepared for death.
The riotâs momentum had spent itself for now. Men and women
gathered togethe r in small groups. Guards strode through, threatening and
scattering any bunch that got too large or unruly . Something was burning
fast enough that the air scrubbers couldnâ t get out the smell of melting
plastic. The bhangra Muzak mixed with weeping and screaming and wails
of despair . Some idiot was shou ting at one of the so-called cops: he was a
lawyer; he was getting all of this on video; whoever was responsible was
going to be in big trouble. Miller watched a bunch of people start to gather
around the confr ontation. The guy in the riot gear listened, nodded, and shot
the lawyer once in the kneecap. The crowd dispersed except for one
woman, the lawyer âs wife or girlfriend, bent down over him screaming.
And in the privacy of Miller âs skull, everything slowly fell apart.
He was aware of having two different minds. One was the Miller he
was used to, familiar with. The one who was thinking about what was going
to happen when he got out, what the next step would be in connecting the
dots between Phoebe Station, Ceres, Eros, and Juliette Mao, how to work
the case. That version of him was scanning the crowd the way he might
have watched the line at a crime scene, waiting for some detail, some
change to catch his attention. Send him in the right direction to solve the
mystery . It was the shortsighted , idiotic part of him that couldnâ t conceive
of his own perso nal extinction, and it thought surely , surely there was going
to be an after .
The other Miller was different. Quieter . Sad, maybe, but at peace. Heâd
read a poem many years before called âThe Death-Self,â and he hadnâ t
understood the term until now. A knot at the middle of his psyche was
untying. All the energy heâd put into holding things togetherâCeres, his
marriage, his career , himselfâw as coming free. Heâd shot and killed more
men in the past day than in his whole career as a cop. Heâd startedâonly
startedâto realize that heâd actually fallen in love with the object of his
search after he knew for certain that heâd lost her. Heâd seen unequivocally
that the chaos heâd dedicated his life to holding at bay was stronger and
wider and more powerful than he would ever be. No compromise he could
make would be enough. His death-self was unfolding in him, and the dark
blooming took no effort. It was a relief, a relaxation, a long, slow exhale
after decades of holding it in.
He was in ruins, but it was okay , because he was dying.
âHey ,â Holden said. His voice was stronger than Miller had expected it
might be.
âYeah?â
âDid you ever watch Misko and Marisko when you were a kid?â
The Eros Petri Dish
- Miller experiences a profound internal shift, embracing his 'death-self' as a form of relief after a lifetime of fighting chaos.
- Holden and Miller share a moment of nostalgic connection by singing a childhood television theme song while suffering from radiation sickness.
- The protagonists deduce that the massacre on Eros is not a simple act of genocide but a massive, controlled scientific experiment.
- Miller realizes that Protogen is using the entire station as a petri dish to observe the effects of the substance that killed Julie Mao.
- Despite his impending death, Miller's detective instincts resurface as he attempts to solve the variables of the horrific situation.
His death-self was unfolding in him, and the dark blooming took no effort.
marriage, his career , himselfâw as coming free. Heâd shot and killed more
men in the past day than in his whole career as a cop. Heâd startedâonly
startedâto realize that heâd actually fallen in love with the object of his
search after he knew for certain that heâd lost her. Heâd seen unequivocally
that the chaos heâd dedicated his life to holding at bay was stronger and
wider and more powerful than he would ever be. No compromise he could
make would be enough. His death-self was unfolding in him, and the dark
blooming took no effort. It was a relief, a relaxation, a long, slow exhale
after decades of holding it in.
He was in ruins, but it was okay , because he was dying.
âHey ,â Holden said. His voice was stronger than Miller had expected it
might be.
âYeah?â
âDid you ever watch Misko and Marisko when you were a kid?â
Miller frowned. âThe kidsâ show?â he asked.
âThe one with the five dinosaurs and the evil guy in the big pink hat,â
Holden said, then starting humm ing a bright, boppy tune. Miller closed his
eyes and then started singing along. The music had had words once. Now it
was only a series of rises and falls, runs up and down a major scale, with
every dissonance resolved in the note that followed.
âGuess I must have,â Miller said when they reached the end.
âI loved that show. I must have been eight or nine last time I saw it,â
Holden said. âFunny how that stuf f stays with you.â
âYeah,â Miller said. He coughed, turned his head, and spat out
something red. âHow are you holding together?â
âI think Iâm okay,â Holden said. Then, a moment later, he adde d, âAs
long as I donâ t stand up.â
âNauseated?â
âYeah, some.â
âMe too.â
âWhat is this?â Holden asked. âI mean, what the hell is this all about?
Why are they doing this?â
It was a fair question. Slaughtering Erosâslaughtering any station in
the Beltâwas a pretty easy job. Anyone with first-year orbital mechanics
skills could find a way to sling a rock big enough and fast enough to crack
the station open. With the effort Protogen had put in, they could have killed
the air supply or drugged it or whatever the hell they wanted to do. This
wasnâ t a murder . This wasnâ t even a genocide.
And then there was all the observation equipment. Cameras,
communications arrays, air and water sensors. There were only two reasons
for that kind of shit. Either the mad bastards at Protogen got off on
watching people die, orâŚ
âThey donâ t know ,â Miller said.
âWhat?â
He turned to look at Holden. The first Miller , the detectiv e, the
optimist, the one who needed to know , was driving now. His death-self
didnâ t fight, because of course it didnâ t. It didnâ t fight anyth ing. Miller
raised his hand, like he was giving a lecture to a rookie.
âThey donât know what itâs about, or⌠you know , at least they donât
know whatâs going to happen. This isnât even built like a torture chamber .
Itâs all being watched, right? Water and air sensors. Itâs a petri dish. They
donât know what that shit that killed Julie does, and this is how theyâre
finding out.â
Holden frowned.
âDonâ t they have laboratories? Places where you could maybe put that
crap on some animals or something? Because as experimental design goes,
this seems a little messed up.â
âMaybe they need a really big sample size,â Miller said. âOr maybe
itâs not about the people. Maybe itâ s about what happens to the station.â
âThereâ s a cheery thought,â Holden said.
The Julie Mao in Miller âs mind brushed a lock of hair out of her eyes.
She was frowning, looking thoughtful, interested, concerned. It all had to
make sense. It was like one of those basic orbital mechanic s problems
where every hitch and veer seemed random until all the varia bles slipped
into place. What had been inexplicable became inevitable. Julie smiled at
him. Julie as she had been. As he imagined she had been. The Miller who
hadnâ t resigned himself to death smiled back. And then she was gone, his
Arrival of the Vomit Zombies
- Miller and Holden observe the brutal suppression of civilians by mercenaries as they wait for an opportunity to move.
- Holden expresses concern and admiration for Naomi, hoping she and the crew managed to escape the station's lockdown.
- The station's tube doors suddenly unlock, shifting the crowd's focus from the port guards to the promise of escape.
- The opening doors reveal infected individuals who exhibit listless, autonomic movements and spread a brown substance.
- The appearance of these 'vomit zombies' signals a terrifying new phase of the station's collapse and the spread of the infection.
The first zombie in the pack turned empty eyes toward him and vomited up a spray of very familiar brown goo.
itâs not about the people. Maybe itâ s about what happens to the station.â
âThereâ s a cheery thought,â Holden said.
The Julie Mao in Miller âs mind brushed a lock of hair out of her eyes.
She was frowning, looking thoughtful, interested, concerned. It all had to
make sense. It was like one of those basic orbital mechanic s problems
where every hitch and veer seemed random until all the varia bles slipped
into place. What had been inexplicable became inevitable. Julie smiled at
him. Julie as she had been. As he imagined she had been. The Miller who
hadnâ t resigned himself to death smiled back. And then she was gone, his
mind shifting to the noise from the pachinko machines and the low,
demonic wailing of the crowds.
Another groupâ twenty men hunkered low, like linebackersâmade a
rush toward the mercenaries guarding the opening to the port. The gunmen
mowed them down.
âIf we had enou gh people,â Holden said after the sound of machine
guns fell away , âwe could make it. They couldnâ t kill all of us.â
âThatâ s what the patrol goons are for,â Miller said. âMake sure no one
can or ganize a big enough push. Keep stirring the pot.â
âBut if it was a mob, I mean a really big mob, it couldâŚâ
âMaybe,â Mille r agreed. Something in his chest clicked in a way it
hadnâ t a minute before. He took a slow, deep breath, and the click happened
again. He could feel it deep in his left lung.
âAt least Naomi got away ,â Holden said.
âThat is good.â
âSheâ s amazing. Sheâd never put Amos and Alex in danger if she could
help it. I mean, sheâs serious. Professional. Strong, you know? I mean, sheâs
really , reallyâŚâ
âPretty , too,â Miller said. âGreat hair . Love the eyes.â
âNo, that wasnâ t what I meant,â Holden said.
âYou donâ t think sheâ s a good-looking woman?â
âSheâ s my XO,â Holden said. âSheâ s⌠you knowâŚâ
âOff-limits.â
Holden sighed.
âShe got away , didnâ t she?â Holden asked.
âAlmost for sure.â
They were silent. One of the linebackers coughed, stood up, and
limped back into the casino, trailing blood from a hole in his ribs. The
bhangra gave way to an afropop medley with a low, sultry voice singing in
languages Miller didnâ t know .
âSheâd wait for us,â Holden said. âDonâ t you think sheâd wait for us?â
âAlmost for sure,â Miller âs death-self said, not particularly caring if it
was a lie. He thought about it for a long moment, then turned to face
Holden again. âHey . Just so you know it? Iâm not exactly at my best right
now.â
âOkay .â
âAll right.â
The glowing orange lockdown lights on the tube station across the
level clicked to green. Miller sat forward, interested. His back felt sticky ,
but it was probably just sweat. Other people had noticed the change too.
Like a current in a water tank, the attention of the nearby crowds shifted
from the mercenaries blocking the way to the port to the brushed-steel
doors of the tube station.
The doors opened, and the first zombies appeared. Men and women,
their eyes glassy and their muscles slack, stumbled out through the open
doors. Miller had seen a docume ntary feed about hemorrhagic fevers as part
of his training on Ceres Station. Their movements were the same: listless,
driven, autonom ic. Like rabid dogs whose minds had already been given
over to their disease.
âHey ,â Miller said, his hand on Holdenâ s shoulder . âHey , itâs
happening.â
An older man in a pair of emer gency services scrubs approach ed the
shambling newcomers. His hands were out before him, as if he could corral
them by simple force of will. The first zombie in the pack turned empty
eyes toward him and vomited up a spray of very familiar brown goo.
âLook,â Holden said.
âI saw .â
âNo, look! â
All down the casino level, tube station lights were going off lockdown.
Doors were opening. The people were pulsing toward the open tubes and
the implicit, empty promise of escape, and away from the dead men and
women walking out from them.
âVomit zombies,â Miller said.
Meat for the Machine
- Zombies infected with an anaerobic organism emerge from radiation shelters, spreading a brown substance among the panicked crowds.
- Miller realizes the organism thrives in radiation, explaining why the station's lights and environment were manipulated to act as an incubator.
- The riot police and emergency workers are being unknowingly sacrificed to the infection, while a disciplined group of mercenaries appears to be waiting for a signal to retreat.
- Despite his severe radiation sickness and a desire to surrender to death, Miller finds a renewed sense of hope and forces himself to stand up to find an escape route.
The mob churned, unsure what to do, the group mind stretched past its breaking point.
An older man in a pair of emer gency services scrubs approach ed the
shambling newcomers. His hands were out before him, as if he could corral
them by simple force of will. The first zombie in the pack turned empty
eyes toward him and vomited up a spray of very familiar brown goo.
âLook,â Holden said.
âI saw .â
âNo, look! â
All down the casino level, tube station lights were going off lockdown.
Doors were opening. The people were pulsing toward the open tubes and
the implicit, empty promise of escape, and away from the dead men and
women walking out from them.
âVomit zombies,â Miller said.
âFrom the rad shelters,â Holden said. âThe thing, the organism. It goes
faster in radiation, right? Thatâ s why whatâ s-her -name was so freaky about
the lights and the vac suit.â
âHer nameâs Julie. And yeah. Those incubators were for this. Right
here,â Miller said, and sighed. He thought about standing up. âWell. We
may not die of radiation poisoning after all.â
âWhy not just pump that shit into the air?â Holden asked.
âAnaerobic, remember?â Miller said. âT oo much oxygen kills âem.â
The vomit-covered emer gency medicine guy was still trying to treat
the shambling zombies like they were patients. Like they were still humans.
There were smears of the brown goo on peopleâ s clothes, on the walls. The
tube doors opened again, and Miller saw half a dozen people dodge into a
tube car coated in brown. The mob churned, unsure what to do, the group
mind stretched past its breaking point.
A riot cop jumped forward and started spraying down the zombies
with gunfire. The entrance and exit wounds spilled out fine loops of black
filament, and the zombies went down. Miller chuckled even before he knew
what was funny . Holden looked at him.
âThey didnâ t know ,â Miller said. âThe bully boys in riot gear? They
arenâ t gonna get pulled out. Meat for the machine, just like the rest of us.â
Holden made a small approving sound. Miller nodded, but something
was niggling at the back of his mind. The thugs from Ceres in their stolen
armor were being sacrificed. That didnâ t mean everyone was. He leaned
forward.
The archway leading to the port was still manned. Mercenary fighters
in formation, guns at the ready . If anything, they looked more disciplined
now than they had before. Miller watched as the guy in the back with extra
insignia on his armor barked into a mic.
Miller had thought hope was dead. Heâd thought all his chances had
been played, and then, like a bitch, it all hauled itself up out of the grave.
âGet up,â Miller said.
âWhat?â
âGet up. Theyâre going to pull back.â
âWho?â
Miller nodded at the mercenaries.
âThey knew ,â he said. âLook at them. They arenâ t freaking out. They
arenâ t confused. They were waiting for this.â
âAnd you think that means theyâll fall back?â
âThey arenâ t going to be hanging out. Stand up.â
Almost as if heâd been giving the order to himself, Miller groan ed and
creaked to his feet. His knees and spine ached badly . The click in his lung
was getting worse. His belly made a soft, complicated noise that would
have been concerning under different circumstances. As soon as he started
moving, he could feel how far the damage had gone, his skin not yet in pain
but in the soft presentiment of it, like the gap between a serious burn and
the blisters that followed. If he lived, it was going to hurt.
If he lived, everything was going to hurt.
His death-self tugged at him. The sense of release, of relief, of rest felt
like something precious being lost. Even while the chatte ring, busy,
machinelike mind kept grinding, grinding, grinding forward, the soft,
bruised center of Miller âs soul urged him to pause, sit back down, let the
problems go away .
âWhat are we looking for?â Holden said. Heâd stood up. A blood
The Threshold of Survival
- Miller struggles with a 'death-self' that urges him to surrender to his injuries and the exhaustion of the crisis.
- Despite his internal collapse and growing hallucinations of Julie Mao, Miller maintains a tactical focus to guide Holden through the station.
- The mercenary forces abandon their posts, leaving the remaining inhabitants of Eros to descend into chaos and sickness.
- Holden and Miller seize a brief window of opportunity to reach the port before the station's environment completely fails.
If he lived, it was going to hurt. If he lived, everything was going to hurt.
moving, he could feel how far the damage had gone, his skin not yet in pain
but in the soft presentiment of it, like the gap between a serious burn and
the blisters that followed. If he lived, it was going to hurt.
If he lived, everything was going to hurt.
His death-self tugged at him. The sense of release, of relief, of rest felt
like something precious being lost. Even while the chatte ring, busy,
machinelike mind kept grinding, grinding, grinding forward, the soft,
bruised center of Miller âs soul urged him to pause, sit back down, let the
problems go away .
âWhat are we looking for?â Holden said. Heâd stood up. A blood
vessel in the manâ s left eye had given way, the white of the sclera turning a
bright, meaty red.
What ar e we looking for? the death-self echoed.
âTheyâre going to fall back,â Miller said, answering the first question.
âWe follow . Just outside the range so whoever âs going last doesnâ t feel like
he has to shoot us.â
âIsnâ t everyone going to do the same thing? I mean, once theyâre gone,
isnât everyone in this place going to head in for the port?â
âI expect so,â Miller said. âSo letâs try to slip in ahead of the rush.
Look. There.â
It wasnâ t much. Just a change in the mercenariesâ stance, a shift in
their collective center of gravity . Miller coughed. It hurt more than it should
have.
What are we looking for? his death-self asked again, its voice more
insistent. An answer? Justice? Another chance for the universe to kick us in
the balls ? What is through that archway that there isnât a faster , cleaner ,
less painful version of in the barr el of our gun?
The mercenary captain took a casual step back and strode down the
exterior corridor and out of sight. Where he had been, Julie Mao sat,
watching him go. She looked at Miller . She waved him on.
âNot yet,â he said.
âWhen?â Holden said, his voice surprising Miller . Julie in his head
flickered out, and he was back in the real world.
âItâs coming,â Miller said.
He should warn the guy. It was only fair. You got into a bad place, and
at the very least, you owed your partner the courtesy of letting him know .
Miller cleared his throat. That hurt too.
Itâs possible I may start hallucinating or become suicidal. You might
have to shoot me.
Holden glanced over at him. The pachinko machines lit them blue and
green and shrieked in artificial delight.
âWhat?â Holden said.
âNothing. Getting my balance,â Miller said.
Behind them, a woman shout ed. Miller glanced back to see her
pushing a vomit zombie away , a slick of brown goo already covering the
live woman. At the archway , the mercenaries quietly steppe d back and
started down the corridor .
âCome on,â Miller said.
He and Holden walked toward the archway , Miller pulling his hat on.
Loud voices, screams, the low, liquid sound of people being violently ill.
The air scrubbers were failing, the air taking on a deep, pungent odor like
beef broth and acid. Miller felt like there was a stone in his shoe, but he was
almost certain if he looked, there would be only a point of redness where
his skin was starting break down.
No one shot at them. No one told them to stop.
At the archway , Miller led Holden against the wall, then ducked his
head around the corner . A quarter second was all it took to know the long,
wide corridor was empty . The mercs were done here and leaving Eros to its
fate. The window was open. The way was clear .
Last chance, he thought, and he meant both the last chance to live and
the last one to die.
âMiller?â
âYeah,â he said. âIt looks good. Come on. Before everyone gets the
idea.â
Chapter Thirty-One
Holden
Something was moving in Hold enâs gut. He ignored it and kept his eyes on
Miller âs back. The lanky detective barreled down the corridor toward the
port, stopping occasionally at junctions to peek around the corner and look
for trouble. Miller had become a machine. All Holden could do was try to
keep up.
Escape from Eros
- Miller and Holden navigate the decaying Eros station, trailing a group of mercenaries who are clearing a path toward the port.
- The station's environment is rapidly deteriorating as air scrubbers fail and the 'vomit zombie' infection spreads through the populace.
- Miller theorizes that the initial wave of infected individuals was deliberately incubated to ensure a mass outbreak within the shelters.
- Internal friction becomes apparent among the mercenaries, suggesting a breakdown in their command structure as the situation worsens.
The air scrubbers were failing, the air taking on a deep, pungent odor like beef broth and acid.
pushing a vomit zombie away , a slick of brown goo already covering the
live woman. At the archway , the mercenaries quietly steppe d back and
started down the corridor .
âCome on,â Miller said.
He and Holden walked toward the archway , Miller pulling his hat on.
Loud voices, screams, the low, liquid sound of people being violently ill.
The air scrubbers were failing, the air taking on a deep, pungent odor like
beef broth and acid. Miller felt like there was a stone in his shoe, but he was
almost certain if he looked, there would be only a point of redness where
his skin was starting break down.
No one shot at them. No one told them to stop.
At the archway , Miller led Holden against the wall, then ducked his
head around the corner . A quarter second was all it took to know the long,
wide corridor was empty . The mercs were done here and leaving Eros to its
fate. The window was open. The way was clear .
Last chance, he thought, and he meant both the last chance to live and
the last one to die.
âMiller?â
âYeah,â he said. âIt looks good. Come on. Before everyone gets the
idea.â
Chapter Thirty-One
Holden
Something was moving in Hold enâs gut. He ignored it and kept his eyes on
Miller âs back. The lanky detective barreled down the corridor toward the
port, stopping occasionally at junctions to peek around the corner and look
for trouble. Miller had become a machine. All Holden could do was try to
keep up.
Always the same distance ahead were the mercenaries whoâd been
guarding the exit from the casino. When they moved, Miller moved. When
they slow ed down, he slowed. They were clearing a path to the port, but if
they thought that any of the citizens were getting too close, theyâd probably
open fire. They were definitely shooting anyone they ran into along the
way. Theyâd already shot two people whoâd run at them. Both had been
vomiting brown goo. Wher e the hell did those vomit zombies come from so
fast?
âWhere the hell did those vomit zombies come from so fast?â he said
to Miller âs back.
The detective shrugged with his left hand, his right still clutching his
pistol.
âI donât think enough of that crap came out of Julie to infect the whole
station,â he replied without slow ing down. âIâm guessing they were the first
batch. The ones they incubated to get enough goo to infect the shelters
with.â
That made sense. And when the controlled portion of the experiment
went to shit, you just turned them loose on the populace. By the time people
figured out what was going on, half of them were infected already . Then it
was just a matter of time.
They paused briefly at a corrid or intersection, watching as the leader
of the merc group stopped a hundred meters ahead and talked on his radio
for a minute. Holden was gasping and trying to catch his breath when the
group started up again, and Miller moved to follow . He reach ed out and
grabbed the detectiveâ s belt and let Miller drag him along. Where did the
skinny Belter keep this reserve of ener gy?
The detective stopped. His expression was blank.
âTheyâre ar guing,â Miller said.
âHuh?â
âThe leader of that group and some of the men. Arguing about
something,â Miller replied.
âSo?â Holden asked, then coughed something wet into his hand. He
wiped it off on the back of his pants, not looking to see if it was blood.
Please donâ t let it be blood.
Miller shrugged with his hand again.
âI donâ t think everyoneâ s on the same team here,â he said.
The merc group turned down another corridor , and Miller followed,
yanking Holden along behind him. These were the outer levels, filled with
warehouse space and ship repair and resupply depots. They didnâ t see a lot
of foot traffic at the best of times. Now the corridor echoed like a
mausoleum with their footsteps . Up ahead, the merc group turned again,
and before Miller and Holden could reach the junction, a lone figure
Fragile Alliances and Radiation Sickness
- Miller and Holden navigate the desolate outer levels of the station, which Miller describes as echoing like a mausoleum.
- The pair encounters a sick, disoriented man in a tuxedo, highlighting the grim reality of the infection spreading through the station.
- Holden asserts his authority as captain of the Rocinante, demanding that Miller stop shooting people without his explicit permission.
- Holden begins experiencing physical symptoms of radiation poisoning, including fragile mucous membranes and a bloody nose.
- The mercenary group they are tracking splits into two factions, suggesting internal conflict or a shift in their tactical objectives.
Dying is the best thing that could happen to that guy today. Youâre not doing him any favors.
wiped it off on the back of his pants, not looking to see if it was blood.
Please donâ t let it be blood.
Miller shrugged with his hand again.
âI donâ t think everyoneâ s on the same team here,â he said.
The merc group turned down another corridor , and Miller followed,
yanking Holden along behind him. These were the outer levels, filled with
warehouse space and ship repair and resupply depots. They didnâ t see a lot
of foot traffic at the best of times. Now the corridor echoed like a
mausoleum with their footsteps . Up ahead, the merc group turned again,
and before Miller and Holden could reach the junction, a lone figure
wandered into view .
He didnât appea r to be armed, so Miller moved toward him cautiously ,
impatiently reaching behind himself and pulling Holdenâ s hand off his belt.
Once he was free, Miller held up his left hand in an unmistakably cop-like
gesture.
âThis is a dangerous place to be wandering around, sir ,â he said.
The man was now less than fifteen meters ahead of them and began
moving toward them at a lurch . He was dressed for a party in a cheap
tuxedo with a frilly shirt and sparkly red bow tie. He was wearing one shiny
black shoe, the other foot covered with only a red sock. Brown vomit
trickled from the corners of his mouth and stained the front of his white
shirt.
âShit,â Miller said, and brought up his gun.
Holden grabbed his arm and yanked it back down.
âHeâ s innocent in this,â Holden said, the sight of the injured and
infected man making his eyes burn. âHeâ s innocent.â
âHeâ s still coming,â Miller said.
âSo walk faster ,â Holden said. âAnd if you shoot anyone else and I
havenâ t given you permission to, you donâ t get a ride on my ship. Got me?â
âTrust me,â Miller said. âDying is the best thing that could happen to
that guy today . Youâre not doing him any favors.â
âYou donât get to decide that,â Holden replied, his tone edging into
real anger .
Miller started to reply , but Holden held up one hand and cut him of f.
âYou want on the Roci? Iâm the boss, then. No questions, no bullshit.â
Miller âs smirk turned into a smile. âYes, sir,â he said. âOur mercs are
getting ahead of us.â He pointed down the corridor .
Miller nodded and moved off again at his steady , machinelike pace.
Holden didnâ t turn around, but he could hear the man Miller had almost
shot crying in the corridor behind him for a long time. To cover up the
sound, which probably existed only in his head once theyâd made a couple
more turns in the corridor , he began humming the theme to Misko and
Marisko again.
Mother Elise, whoâd been the one to stay home with him when he was
very young, had always brough t him something to eat while he watched,
and then sat by him with her hand on his head, playing with his hair. Sheâd
laughed at the dinosaur antics even harder than he had. One Halloween
sheâd made him a big pink hat to wear so that he could be the evil Count
Mungo. Why had that guy been trying to capture the dinosaurs, anyway? It
had never really been clear . Maybe he just liked dinosaurs. One time heâd
used a shrink ray andâ
Holden slammed into Miller âs back. The detective had stopped
suddenly and now moved quickl y to one side of the corridor , crouching low
to keep himself in the shadows. Holden followed suit. About thirty meters
ahead, the mercenary group had gotten much bigger and had split into two
factions.
âYep,â Miller said. âWhole lot of people having really bad days
today .â
Holden nodded and wiped something wet off his face. It was blood. He
didnâ t think heâd hit Miller âs back hard enough to bloody his nose, and he
had a suspicion it wasnâ t going to stop on its own. Mucous membranes
getting fragile. Wasnât that part of radiation burning? He tore strips off his
shirt and stuffed them up his nostrils while he watched the scene at the end
of the corridor .
There were two clear groups, and they did seem to be engaged in some
Corridor of Fire
- Holden and Miller find their path to the ship blocked by a violent standoff between two groups of mercenaries.
- The conflict erupts into a brutal point-blank firefight, leaving the corridor junction littered with bodies and blood.
- Holden realizes his physical condition is deteriorating as he begins to experience symptoms of radiation sickness.
- The survivors of the skirmish retreat into opposite ends of the cross corridor, creating a lethal sniper-filled war zone.
- With time running out on Naomi's deadline, the duo must find a way to cross the open kill zone without being shot.
Men screamed and flew apart, spraying the corridor and each other with blood and body parts.
âYep,â Miller said. âWhole lot of people having really bad days
today .â
Holden nodded and wiped something wet off his face. It was blood. He
didnâ t think heâd hit Miller âs back hard enough to bloody his nose, and he
had a suspicion it wasnâ t going to stop on its own. Mucous membranes
getting fragile. Wasnât that part of radiation burning? He tore strips off his
shirt and stuffed them up his nostrils while he watched the scene at the end
of the corridor .
There were two clear groups, and they did seem to be engaged in some
sort of heated argument. Normally , that would have been fine. Holden
didnâ t care about the social lives of mercenaries. But these mercenaries
numbered by this time close to a hundred, were heavily armed, and blocked
the corridor that led to his ship. That made their ar gument worth watching.
âNot everyone from Protogen left, I think,â Miller said quietly ,
pointing at one of the two groups. âThose guys on the right donât look like
the home team.â
Holden looked at the group and nodded. They were definitely the more
professional-looking soldiers. Their armor fit well. The other group looked
like it was largely made up of guys dressed in police riot gear, with only a
few men in combat armor .
âWant to guess what the ar gument is about?â Miller asked.
âHey, can we have a ride too?â Holden said mockingly with a Ceres
accent. âUh, no, we need you guys to stay here and, uh, keep an eye on
things, which we promise will be totally safe and absolutely not involve you
turning into vomit zombies. â
He actually got a chuckle from Miller and then the corridor erupted in
a barrage of gunfire. Both sides of the discussion were firing automatic
weapons at each other from point-blank range. The noise was deafening.
Men screamed and flew apart, spraying the corridor and each other with
blood and body parts. Holden dropped flat to the floor but continued
watching the firefight.
After the initial barrage, the survivors from both groups began falling
back in opposite directions, still firing as they moved. The floor at the
corridor junction was littered with bodies. Holden estimated that twenty or
more men had died in that first second of the fight. The sounds of gunfire
grew more distant as the two groups fired at each other down the corridor .
In the middle of the junction, one of the bodies on the floor suddenly
stirred and raised its head. Even before the wounded man could get to his
feet, a bullet hole appeared in the middle of his face shield and he dropped
back to the floor with limp finality .
âWhereâ s your ship?â Miller asked.
âThe lift is at the end of this corridor ,â Holden replied.
Miller spat what looked like bloody phlegm on the floor .
âAnd the corridor that crosses it is now a war zone, with armed camps
sniping at each other from both sides,â he said. âI guess we could try just
running through it.â
âIs there another option?â Holden asked.
Miller looked at his terminal.
âWeâre fifty-three minutes past the deadline Naomi set,â he said. âHow
much more time do you want to waste?â
âLook, I was never particularly good at math,â Holden said. âBut Iâd
guess there are as many as forty guys in either direction down that other
corridor . A corridor which is a good three, maybe three and a half meters
wide. Which means that we give eighty guys three meters worth of shots at
us. Even dumb luck means we get hit a lot and then die. Letâs think of a
plan B.â
As if to underline his ar gument, another fusillade broke out in the cross
corridor , gouging chunks out of the rubbery wall insulation and chewing up
the bodies lying on the floor .
âTheyâre still withdrawing,â Miller said. âThose shots came from
Armor of the Dead
- Holden and Miller find themselves pinned down in a corridor, physically exhausted and suffering from injuries while facing overwhelming odds.
- The arrival of four unsuspecting thugs in riot gear provides a grim opportunity for the duo to improve their chances of survival.
- After killing the men, Holden and Miller strip the corpses of their armor to use as protection and a potential disguise for their escape.
- Miller uses the stolen police radio to deceive the hostile forces in the main corridor, hoping to buy them safe passage through the crossfire.
Holden put on the dead manâs armor, working hard to believe that the pink trail down the back was absolutely not part of the manâs brain.
guess there are as many as forty guys in either direction down that other
corridor . A corridor which is a good three, maybe three and a half meters
wide. Which means that we give eighty guys three meters worth of shots at
us. Even dumb luck means we get hit a lot and then die. Letâs think of a
plan B.â
As if to underline his ar gument, another fusillade broke out in the cross
corridor , gouging chunks out of the rubbery wall insulation and chewing up
the bodies lying on the floor .
âTheyâre still withdrawing,â Miller said. âThose shots came from
farther away . I guess we can just wait them out. I mean, if we can.â
The rags Holden had stuffed up his nose hadnâ t stopped the bleeding;
they had just dammed it up. He could feel a steady trickle down the back of
his throat that made his stomach heave with nausea. Miller was right. They
were getting down to the last of their ability to wait anyone out at this point.
âGoddamn, I wish we could call and see if Naomi is even there,â
Holden said, looking at the flashing Network Not A vailable on his terminal.
âShhh,â Miller whispered, putting one finger on his lips. He pointed
back down the corridor in the direction theyâd come, and now Holden could
hear heavy footsteps approaching.
âLate guests to the party ,â Miller said, and Holden nodded. The two
men swiveled around, pointing their guns down the corridor and waiting.
A group of four men in police riot armor rounded the corner . They
didnâ t have their guns out, and two of them had their helmets off.
Apparently they hadnâ t heard about the new hostilities. Holden waited for
Miller to fire and, when he didnât, turned to look at him. Miller was staring
back.
âI didnât dress real warm,â Miller said, almost apologetically . It took
Holden half a second to understand what he meant.
Holden gave him permission by shooting first. He targeted one of the
mafia thugs without a helmet and shot him in the face, then continued firing
at the group until his gunâs slide locked open when the magazine was
empty . Miller had begun firing a split second after Holdenâ s first shot and
also fired until his gun was empty. When it was over, all four thugs were
lying facedown in the corridor . Holden let out a long breath that turned into
a sigh, and sat down on the floor .
Miller walked to the fallen men and nudged each one in turn with his
foot as he replaced the magazine in his gun. Holden didnâ t bother reloading
his. He was done with gunfights. He put the empty pistol in his pocket and
got up to join the cop. He bent down and began unbuckling the least
damaged armor he could find. Miller raised an eyebrow but didnâ t move to
help.
âWeâre making a run for it,â Holden said, swallowing back the vomit-
and-blood taste in his throat as he pulled the chest and back armor free of
the first man. âBut maybe if we wear this stuf f, it will help.â
âMight,â Miller said with a nod, then knelt down to help strip a second
man.
Holden put on the dead manâ s armor , working hard to believe that the
pink trail down the back was absolutely not part of the manâs brain.
Undoing the straps was exhausting. His fingers felt numb and awkward. He
picked up the thigh armor , then put it down again. Heâd rather run fast.
Miller had finished buckling his on too and picked up one of the
undamaged helm ets. Holden found one with just a dent in it and slipped it
onto his head. It felt greasy inside, and he was glad he had no sense of
smell. He suspected that its previous occupant hadnâ t bathed often.
Miller fiddled with the side of his helmet until the radio came on. The
copâs voice was echoed a split second later over the helmetâ s tinny speakers
as he said, âHey , weâre coming out into the corridor! Donâ t shoot! Weâre
coming to join up!â
Thumbing off the mic, he turned to Holden and said, âWell, maybe one
side wonâ t be shooting at us now .â
They moved back down the corridor and stopped ten meters from the
The Run to the Rocinante
- Holden and Miller scavenge armor from fallen enemies and attempt a desperate dash through a crossfire-heavy corridor.
- Despite Miller's attempt to signal their presence over the radio, they are met with a deafening barrage of gunfire upon entering the intersection.
- Both men sustain serious injuries; Holden is shot in the calf and ribs, while Miller suffers a broken arm and significant blood loss.
- They reach the elevator in a state of near-collapse, sharing a delirious moment of humming a children's theme song while waiting for the lift.
- The elevator doors open to reveal Amos, heavily armed and ready for combat, marking their arrival at the ship's berth.
He hummed the Misko and Marisko theme to himself, and after a few seconds, Miller started too.
picked up the thigh armor , then put it down again. Heâd rather run fast.
Miller had finished buckling his on too and picked up one of the
undamaged helm ets. Holden found one with just a dent in it and slipped it
onto his head. It felt greasy inside, and he was glad he had no sense of
smell. He suspected that its previous occupant hadnâ t bathed often.
Miller fiddled with the side of his helmet until the radio came on. The
copâs voice was echoed a split second later over the helmetâ s tinny speakers
as he said, âHey , weâre coming out into the corridor! Donâ t shoot! Weâre
coming to join up!â
Thumbing off the mic, he turned to Holden and said, âWell, maybe one
side wonâ t be shooting at us now .â
They moved back down the corridor and stopped ten meters from the
intersection. Holden counted down from three and then took off at the best
run he could manage. It was dishearteningly slow; his legs felt like they
were filled with lead. Like he was running in a pool of water . Like he was
in a nightmare. He could hear Miller just behind him, his shoes slapping on
the concrete floor , his breath coming in ragged gasps.
Then he heard only the sound of gunfire. He couldnâ t tell if Miller âs
plan had worked. Couldnâ t tell which direction the gunfire was coming
from. It was constant and deafening and started the instant he entered the
cross corridor . When he was three meters from the other side, he lowered
his head and jumped forward. In Erosâ light gravity , he seemed to fly, and
he was nearly to the other side when a burst of bullets caught him in the
armor over his ribs and slamme d him into the corridor wall with a spine-
jarring crack. He dragged himself the rest of the way as bullets continued to
hit all around his legs, one of them passing through the meaty part of his
calf.
Miller tripped over him, flying a few feet farther down the hall and
then collapsing in a heap. Holden crawled to his side.
âStill alive?â
Miller nodded. âGot shot. Armâ s broke. Keep moving,â he gasped out.
Holden climbed to his feet, his left leg feeling like it was on fire as the
muscle in his calf clenched around his gaping wound. He pulled Miller up
and then leaned on him as they limped toward the elevator . Miller âs left arm
was dangling boneless at his side, and blood was pouring of f his hand.
Holden punched the button to call the lift, and he and Miller leaned on
each other while they waited. He hummed the Misko and Marisko theme to
himself, and after a few seconds, Miller started too.
Holden punched the button for the Rocinante âs berth and waited for the
elevator to stop at a blank gray airlock door with no ship beyond it. That
would be when he finally had permission to lie down on the floor and die.
He looked forw ard to that mom ent when his exertions could end with a
relief that would have surprised him if heâd still been capable of surprise.
Miller let go of him and slid down the lift wall, leaving a blood trail on the
shiny metal and ending in a pile on the floor . The manâ s eyes were closed.
He could almost have been sleeping. Holden watched the detectiveâ s chest
rise and fall in ragged, painful breaths that grew smoother and more
shallow .
Holden envied him, but he had to see that closed airlock door before
he could lie down. He began to feel faintly angry with the elevator for
taking so long.
It stopped, lift doors sliding open with a cheerful ding.
Amos stood in the airlock on the other side, an assault rifle in each
hand and two belts of magazines for the rifles slung on his shoulders. He
looked Holden up and down once, then glanced over to Miller and back
again.
âJesus, Captain, you look like shit.â
Chapter Thirty-T wo
Miller
Miller âs mind reassembled slowly and with several false starts. In his
Recovery in the Sick Bay
- Holden and Miller successfully reach the airlock where Amos is waiting with heavy weaponry to secure their safety.
- Miller regains consciousness on the ship after thirty-six hours of intensive medical treatment for radiation or infection.
- Naomi explains that they have utilized a significant portion of their military-grade medical supplies to save Miller and Holden.
- Miller experiences a disorienting recovery process involving plasma flushes, drainage tubes, and heavy narcotics.
- The ship's sick bay is described as a high-tech, Martian-designed facility that looks more like a movie set than a standard hospital.
Something was in his neck: a thick bundle of black tubes reaching out of him and up past the limits of his vision.
shallow .
Holden envied him, but he had to see that closed airlock door before
he could lie down. He began to feel faintly angry with the elevator for
taking so long.
It stopped, lift doors sliding open with a cheerful ding.
Amos stood in the airlock on the other side, an assault rifle in each
hand and two belts of magazines for the rifles slung on his shoulders. He
looked Holden up and down once, then glanced over to Miller and back
again.
âJesus, Captain, you look like shit.â
Chapter Thirty-T wo
Miller
Miller âs mind reassembled slowly and with several false starts. In his
dreams, he was fitting a puzzle together as the pieces kept chan ging shape,
and each time, just as he was on the verge of slipping the whole mechanism
together , the dream began again. The first thing he became aware of was the
ache at the smal l of his back, then the heaviness of his arms and legs, then
the nausea. The nearer he came to consciousness, the more he tried to
postpone it. Imaginary fingers tried to complete the puzzle, and before he
could make it all fit, his eyes opened.
He couldnâ t move his head. Something was in his neck: a thick bundle
of black tubes reaching out of him and up past the limits of his vision. He
tried to lift his arms, to push the invading, vampiric thing away, but he
couldnâ t.
It got me, he thought with a thrill of fear . Iâm infected.
The woman appeared from his left. He was surprised she wasnâ t Julie.
Deep brown skin, dark eyes with just a hint of an epicanthic fold. She
smiled at him. Black hair draped down the side of her face.
Down. There was a down. There was gravity . They were under thrust.
That seemed very important, but he didnâ t know why .
âHey , Detective,â Naomi said. âW elcome back.â
Wher e am I? he tried to say. His throat felt solid. Crowded like too
many people in a tube station.
âDonâ t try to get up or talk or anything,â she said. âYouâve been under
for abou t thirty- six hours. Good news is we have a sick bay with a military-
grade expert system and supplies for fifteen Martian soldiers. I think we
burned half of what weâve got on you and the captain.â
The captain. Holden. That was right. Theyâd been in a fight. There had
been a corridor and people shooting. And someone had been sick. He
remembered a woman, covered in brown vomit, with vacant eyes, but he
didnâ t know whether it was part of a nightmare.
Naomi was still talking. Someth ing about full plasma flushes and cell
damage. He tried to lift a hand , to reach out to her, but a strap restrained
him. The ache in his back was his kidneys, and he wondered what exactly
was getting filtered out of his blood. Miller closed his eyes, asleep before he
could decide whether to rest.
No dreams troubled him this time. He roused again when something
deep in his throat shifted, pulled at his larynx, and retreate d. Without
opening his eyes, he rolled to his side, coughed, puked, and rolled back.
When he woke, he was breathing on his own. His throat felt sore and
abused, but his hands werenâ t tied down. Drainage tubes ran out of his belly
and side, and there was a catheter the size of a pencil coming out his penis.
Nothing particul arly hurt, so he had to assume he was on pretty nearly all
the narcotics there were. His clothes were gone, his modesty preserved only
by a thin paper gown and a cast that held his left arm stony and immovable.
Someone had put his hat on the next bed over .
The sick bay, now that he could see it, looked like a ward on a high-
production enter tainment feed. It wasnâ t a hospital; it was the matte-black-
and-silver idea of what a hospital was supposed to be. The monitors hung
suspended in the air on comple x armatures, reporting his blood pressure,
nucleic acid concentrations, oxygenation, fluid balance. There were two
Recovery and Regret
- Miller and Holden recover in a high-tech sick bay after surviving the traumatic events on Eros.
- Despite their physical injuries and exhaustion, Miller finds solace in having successfully reached Holden's ship.
- Holden attempts to confess his love to Naomi, claiming that the brush with death clarified his true feelings.
- Naomi rejects Holden's confession, suggesting his emotions are a temporary reaction to trauma and citing his history of shipboard romances.
- The interaction reveals a deep sense of sorrow and disappointment in Naomi's voice as she challenges Holden's sincerity.
His voice sounded like it had been dragged down an alley by its ankles.
the narcotics there were. His clothes were gone, his modesty preserved only
by a thin paper gown and a cast that held his left arm stony and immovable.
Someone had put his hat on the next bed over .
The sick bay, now that he could see it, looked like a ward on a high-
production enter tainment feed. It wasnâ t a hospital; it was the matte-black-
and-silver idea of what a hospital was supposed to be. The monitors hung
suspended in the air on comple x armatures, reporting his blood pressure,
nucleic acid concentrations, oxygenation, fluid balance. There were two
separate countd owns running, one to the next round of autop hagics, the
other for pain medication. And across the aisle, at another station, Holdenâ s
statistics looked more or less the same.
Holden looked like a ghost. His skin was pale and his sclera were red
with a hundred little hemorrhages. His face was puf fy from steroids.
âHey ,â Miller said.
Holden lifted a hand, waving gently .
âWe made it,â Miller said. His voice sounded like it had been dragged
down an alley by its ankles.
âYeah,â Holden said.
âThat was ugly .â
âYeah.â
Miller nodded. That had taken all the energy he had. He lay back down
and fell, if not asleep, at least unconscious. Just before his mind flickered
back into forgetfulness, he smiled. Heâd made it. He was on Holdenâ s ship.
And they were going to find whatever Julie had left behind for them.
Voices woke him.
âMaybe you shouldnâ t, then.â
It was the woma n. Naomi. Part of Miller cursed her for disturbin g him,
but there was a buzz in her voiceânot fear or anger , but close enough to be
interesting. He didnâ t move, didnâ t even swim all the way back to
awareness. But he listened.
âI need to,â Holden said. He sounded phlegmy , like someone who
needed to cough. âWhat happened on Eros⌠itâs put a lot of things in
perspective. Iâve been a holding something back.â
âCaptainââ
âNo, hear me out. When I was in there thinking that all I was going to
have left was half an hour of rigged pachinko games and then death⌠when
that happened, I knew what my regrets were. You know? I felt all the things
that I wished Iâd done and never had the courage for. Now that I know , I
canât just ignore it. I canâ t pretend it isnâ t there.â
âCaptain,â Naomi said again, and the buzz in her voice was stronger .
Donâ t say it, you poor bastar d, Miller thought.
âIâm in love with you, Naomi,â Holden said.
The pause lasted no longer than a heartbeat.
âNo, sir ,â she said. âY ou arenâ t.â
âI am. I know what youâre thinking. Iâve been through this big
traumatic experi ence and Iâm doing the whole thing where I want to affirm
life and make connections, and maybe some of thatâs part of it. But you
have to believe that I know what I feel. And when I was down there, I knew
that the thing that I wanted the most was to get back to you.â
âCaptain. How long have we served together?â
âWhat? I donâ t know exactlyâŚâ
âBallpark estimate.â
âEight and a half runs makes it almost five years,â Holden said. Miller
could hear the confusion in his voice.
âAll right. And in that time, how many of the crew did you share
bunks with?â
âDoes it matter?â
âOnly a little.â
âA few .â
âMore than a dozen?â
âNo,â he said, but he didnâ t sound sure.
âLetâ s call it ten,â Naomi said.
âOkay . But this is different. Iâm not talking about having a little
shipboard romance to pass the time. Ever sinceââ
Miller imagined the woman holding up her hand or taking Holdenâ s or
maybe just glaring at him. Something to stop the flow of words.
âAnd do you know when I fell for you, sir?â
Sorrow . That was what the strain in her voice was. Sorrow .
Disappointment. Regret.
âWhen⌠when youâŚâ
Naomi's Hard Truths
- Naomi confronts Holden about his history of shipboard romances and his pattern of emotional seduction.
- She reveals that she has harbored feelings for him for years, dating back to a specific moment of respect he showed a crewmate.
- Naomi criticizes Holden's tendency to convince himself of a 'special connection' just to justify his physical attractions.
- She sets a firm boundary, refusing to sleep with him until he can distinguish between genuine love and a passing desire for companionship.
- The intense private conversation is interrupted by Miller, who is recovering nearby and struggling with his own physical ailments.
And until you figure out that you donât have to love everyone you bed down with, Iâm never going to know whether you love me or just want to bed down.
âOnly a little.â
âA few .â
âMore than a dozen?â
âNo,â he said, but he didnâ t sound sure.
âLetâ s call it ten,â Naomi said.
âOkay . But this is different. Iâm not talking about having a little
shipboard romance to pass the time. Ever sinceââ
Miller imagined the woman holding up her hand or taking Holdenâ s or
maybe just glaring at him. Something to stop the flow of words.
âAnd do you know when I fell for you, sir?â
Sorrow . That was what the strain in her voice was. Sorrow .
Disappointment. Regret.
âWhen⌠when youâŚâ
âI can tell you the day,â Naom i said. âYou were about seven weeks
into that first run. I was still smarting that some Earther had come in from
out of the ecliptic and taken my XO job. I didnâ t like you much right at the
start. You were too charming, too pretty , and too damn comfortable in my
chair . But there was a poker game in the engine room. You and me and
those two Luna boys out of engineering and Kamala Trask. You remember
Trask?â
âShe was the comm tech. The one who wasâŚâ
âBuilt like a refrigerator? Face like a bulldog puppy?â
âI remember her .â
âShe had the biggest crush on you. Used to cry herself to sleep at night
all through that run. She wasnâ t in that game because she cared about poker .
She just wanted to breathe some of your air, and everyone knew it. Even
you. And all that night, I watched you and her, and you never once led her
along. You never gave her any reason to think she had a chanc e with you.
And you still treated her with respect. That was the first time I thought you
might be a decent XO, and it was the first time I wished that I could be the
girl in your bunk at shiftâ s end.â
âBecause of T rask?â
âThat and youâve got a great ass, sir. My point is we flew together for
four years and more. And I would have come along with you any day of
that if youâd asked me.â
âI didnâ t know ,â Holden said. He sounded a little strangled.
âYou didnât ask. You always had your sights set someplace else. And,
honestly , I think Belter women just put you off. Until the Cant ⌠Until it
was just the five of us. Iâve seen you looking at me. I know exactly what
those looks mean, because I spent four years on the other side of them. But
I only got your attention when I was the only female on board, and thatâs
not good enough for me.â
âI donâ t knowââ
âNo, sir, you donât. Thatâ s my point. Iâve watched you seduce a lot of
women, and I know how you do it. You get fixed on her, you get excited by
her. Then you convince yourself that the two of you have some kind of
special connection, and by the time you believe it, she usually thinks itâs
true too. And then you sleep together for a while, and the connection gets a
little faded. One or the other of you says something like professional or
appropriate boundaries or starts worrying what the crew will think, and the
whole thing slides away . Afterwards they still like you. All of them. You do
it all so well they donâ t even feel like they get to hate you for it.â
âThatâ s not true.â
âIt is. And until you figure out that you donât have to love everyone
you bed down with, Iâm never going to know whether you love me or just
want to bed down. And I wonâ t sleep with you until you know which it is.
The smart money isnâ t on love.â
âI was justââ
âIf you want to sleep with me,â Naomi said, âbe honest. Respect me
enough for that. Okay?â
Miller coughed. He hadnâ t meant to, hadnâ t even been aware he was
going to. His belly went tight, his throat clamped down, and he coughed
wet and deep. Once he started, it was hard to stop. He sat up, eyes watering
from the effort. Holden was lying back on his bed. Naomi sat on the next
bed over, smiling like there had been nothing to overhear . Holdenâ s
monitors showed an elevated heart rate and blood pressure. Miller could
only hope the poor bastard hadnâ t gotten an erection with the catheter still
in.
âHey , Detective,â Naomi said. âHowâre you feeling?â
The Aftermath of Eros
- Miller and Holden recover from severe radiation poisoning and physical trauma after barely escaping Eros station.
- Naomi reveals the permanent medical consequences of their exposure, including organ damage, sterility, and the need for lifelong cancer screenings.
- The survivors learn that Eros has been placed under a total quarantine lockdown with no rescue operations planned for the million and a half people left behind.
- Miller reflects on his descent into cold-blooded revenge and his obsessive, hallucinatory connection to the deceased Julie Mao.
The expert system kept clicking you over into hospice care and shooting you full of morphine.
Miller coughed. He hadnâ t meant to, hadnâ t even been aware he was
going to. His belly went tight, his throat clamped down, and he coughed
wet and deep. Once he started, it was hard to stop. He sat up, eyes watering
from the effort. Holden was lying back on his bed. Naomi sat on the next
bed over, smiling like there had been nothing to overhear . Holdenâ s
monitors showed an elevated heart rate and blood pressure. Miller could
only hope the poor bastard hadnâ t gotten an erection with the catheter still
in.
âHey , Detective,â Naomi said. âHowâre you feeling?â
Miller nodded.
âIâve felt worse ,â he said. Then , a moment later: âNo. I havenâ t. But
Iâm all right. How bad was it?â
âYouâre both dead,â Naomi said. âSeriously , we had to overr ide the
triage filters on both of you more than once. The expert system kept
clicking you over into hospice care and shooting you full of morphine.â
She said it lightl y, but he believe d her. He tried to sit up. His body still
felt terribly heav y, but he didnâ t know if it was from weakness or the ship
thrust. Holden was quiet, jaw clamped tight. Miller pretended not to notice.
âLong-term estimates?â
âYouâre both going to need to be checked for new cancers every month
for the rest of your lives. The captain has a new implant where his thyroid
used to be, since his real one was pretty much cooked down. We had to take
out about a foot and a half of your small bowel that wouldnâ t stop bleeding.
Youâre both going to bruise easy for a while, and if you wanted kids, I hope
you have some sperm in a bank someplace, because all your little soldiers
have two heads now .â
Miller chuckled. His monitors blinked into alarm mode and then back
out.
âYou sound like you trained as a med tech,â he said.
âNope. Engineer . But Iâve been reading the printouts every day, so Iâve
got the lingo down. I wish Shed was still here,â she said, and sounded sad
for the first time.
That was the second time some one had mentioned Shed. There was a
story there, but Miller let it drop.
âHair going to fall out?â he asked.
âMaybe,â Naom i said. âThe system shot you full of the drugs that are
supposed to stop that, but if the follicles die, they die.â
âWell. Good thing Iâve still got my hat. What about Eros?â
Naomiâ s false light tone failed her .
âItâs dead,â Holden said from his bed, turning to look at Miller. âI
think we were the last ship out. The station isnât answering calls, and all the
automatic systems have it in a quarantine lockdown.â
âRescue ships?â Miller asked, and coughed again. His throat was still
sore.
âNot going to happen,â Naomi said. âThere were a million and a half
people on statio n. No one has the resources to put into that kind of rescue
op.â
âAfter all,â Holden said, âthereâ s a war on.â
The ship system dimmed the lights for night. Miller lay on his bed. The
expert system had shifted his treatment regimen into a new phase, and for
the past three hours, heâd alternated between spiking fevers and teeth-
chattering chills. His teeth and the nail beds of his fingers and toes ached.
Sleep wasnâ t an option, so he lay in the gloom and tried to pull himself
together .
He wondered what his old partn ers would have made of his behavior
on Eros. Havelock. Muss. He tried to imagine them in his place. Heâd killed
people, and heâd done it cold. Eros had been a kill box, and when the
people in charge of the law wanted you dead, the law didnâ t apply anymore.
And some of the dead assholes had been the ones whoâd killed Julie.
So. Revenge killing. Was he really down to revenge killing? That was
a sad thought. He tried to imagine Julie sitting beside him the way Naomi
had with Holde n. It was like sheâd been waiting for the invitation. Julie
Mao, who heâd never really known. She raised a hand in greeting.
And what about us? he asked her as he looked into her dark, unreal
eyes. Do I love you, or do I just want to love you so bad I canât tell the
differ ence?
The Weight of Killing
- Miller reflects on his own descent into revenge killing and his internal struggle with his feelings for Julie Mao.
- Holden and Miller share a tense, sleepless conversation about the psychological toll of killing someone at close range.
- Miller explains that the trauma and haunting memories of violence are a necessary sign of remaining humanity.
- The dialogue shifts to personal advice, as Miller encourages Holden to pursue his relationship with Naomi despite the chaos.
- The interaction highlights the stark contrast between killing from a distance in space combat versus the intimacy of a face-to-face execution.
Do I love you, or do I just want to love you so bad I canât tell the difference?
chattering chills. His teeth and the nail beds of his fingers and toes ached.
Sleep wasnâ t an option, so he lay in the gloom and tried to pull himself
together .
He wondered what his old partn ers would have made of his behavior
on Eros. Havelock. Muss. He tried to imagine them in his place. Heâd killed
people, and heâd done it cold. Eros had been a kill box, and when the
people in charge of the law wanted you dead, the law didnâ t apply anymore.
And some of the dead assholes had been the ones whoâd killed Julie.
So. Revenge killing. Was he really down to revenge killing? That was
a sad thought. He tried to imagine Julie sitting beside him the way Naomi
had with Holde n. It was like sheâd been waiting for the invitation. Julie
Mao, who heâd never really known. She raised a hand in greeting.
And what about us? he asked her as he looked into her dark, unreal
eyes. Do I love you, or do I just want to love you so bad I canât tell the
differ ence?
âHey , Miller ,â Holden said, and Julie vanished. âY ou awake?â
âYeah. Canâ t sleep.â
âMe either .â
They were silent for a moment. The expert system hummed. Miller âs
left arm itched under its cast as the tissue went through another round of
forced regrowth.
âYou doing okay?â Miller asked.
âWhy wouldnâ t I be?â Holden said sharply .
âYou killed that guy,â Miller said. âBack on the station. You shot him.
I mean, I know you shot at guys before that. Back at the hotel. But right at
the end there, you actually hit somebody in the face.â
âYeah. I did.â
âYou good with that?â
âSure,â Holden said, too quickly .
The air recyclers hummed, and the blood pressure cuff on Miller âs
good arm squee zed him like a hand. Holden didnâ t speak, but when Miller
squinted, he could see the elevated blood pressure and the uptick in brain
activity .
âThey always made us take time of f,â Miller said.
âWhat?â
âWhen we shot someone. Wheth er they died or not, they always made
us take a leave of absence. Turn in our weapon. Go talk to the
headshrinker .â
âBureaucrats,â Holden said.
âThey had a point,â Miller said. âShooting someone does something to
you. Killing someone⌠thatâs even worse. Doesnâ t matter that they had it
coming or you didnâ t have a choice. Or maybe a little difference. But it
doesnâ t take it away .â
âSeems like you got over it, though.â
âMaybe,â Miller said. âLook. All that I said back there about how you
kill someone? About how leaving them alive wasnâ t doing them any favors?
Iâm sorry that happened.â
âYou think you were wrong?â
âI wasnâ t. But Iâm still sorry it happened.â
âOkay .â
âJesus. Look, Iâm saying itâs good that it bothers you. Itâs good that
you canât stop seeing it or hearing it. That part where it haunts you some?
Thatâ s the way itâ s supposed to be.â
Holden was quiet for a moment. When he spoke again, his voice was
gray as stone.
âIâve killed people before, you know . But they were blips in a radar
track. Iââ
âItâs not the same, is it?â Miller said.
âNo, it isnâ t,â Holden replied. âDoes this go away?â
Sometimes, Miller thought.
âNo,â he said. âNot if youâve still got a soul.â
âOkay . Thanks.â
âOne other thing?â
âYeah?â
âI know itâs none of my busines s, but I really wouldnâ t let her put you
off. So you donât understand sex and love and women. Just means you were
born with a cock . And this girl? Naomi? She seems like sheâs worth putting
a little ef fort into it. Y ou know?â
âYeah,â Holden said. Then: âCan we never talk about that again?â
âSure.â
The ship creaked and gravity shifted a degree to Miller âs right. Course
correction. Nothing interesting. Miller closed his eyes and tried to will
Recovery and Rising Tensions
- Miller encourages Holden to pursue Naomi despite his social awkwardness, suggesting she is worth the effort.
- While recovering from radiation poisoning, Miller experiences vivid, feverish hallucinations of the deceased Julie Mao.
- The solar system descends into chaos as the tragedy at Eros is used as political fodder for war between Earth, Mars, and the Belt.
- Holden struggles with the emotional fallout of a failed romantic gesture toward Naomi while attempting to regain his physical strength.
His eyes opened, his mind seeing both the imaginary girl and the monitors that she would have blocked if sheâd really been there.
âOne other thing?â
âYeah?â
âI know itâs none of my busines s, but I really wouldnâ t let her put you
off. So you donât understand sex and love and women. Just means you were
born with a cock . And this girl? Naomi? She seems like sheâs worth putting
a little ef fort into it. Y ou know?â
âYeah,â Holden said. Then: âCan we never talk about that again?â
âSure.â
The ship creaked and gravity shifted a degree to Miller âs right. Course
correction. Nothing interesting. Miller closed his eyes and tried to will
himself to sleep. His mind was full of dead men and Julie and love and sex.
There was some thing Holden had said about the war that was important, but
he couldnâ t make the pieces fit. They kept changing. Miller sighed, shifted
his weight so that he blocked one of his drainage tubes and had to shift back
to stop the alarm.
When the blood pressure cuff fired off again, it was Julie holding him,
pulling herself so close her lips brushed his ear. His eyes opened, his mind
seeing both the imaginary girl and the monitors that she would have
blocked if sheâd really been there.
I love you too, she said, and I will take car e of you.
He smiled at seeing the numbers change as his heart raced.
Chapter Thirty-Thr ee
Holden
For five more days, Holden and Miller lay on their backs in sick bay while
the solar system burned down around them. The reports of Erosâ death ran
from massive ecological collapse brought about by war-related supply
shortages, to covert Martian attack, to secret Belt bioweapon laboratory
accident. Analysis from the inner planets had it that the OPA and terrorists
like them had finally shown how dangerous they could be to innocent
civilian populations. The Belt blamed Mars, or the maintenance crews of
Eros, or the OP A for not stopping it.
And then a group of Martian frigates blockaded Pallas, a revolt on
Ganymede ended in sixteen dead, and the new government of Ceres
announced that all ships with Martian registry docked on station were being
commandeered. The threats and accusations, all set to the constant human
background noise of war drums, moved on. Eros had been a tragedy and a
crime, but it was finished, and there were new dangers popping up in every
corner of human space.
Holden turned off his newsfeed, fidgeted in his bunk, and tried to wake
Miller up by staring at him. It didnâ t work. The massive radiation exposure
had failed to give him superpowers. Miller began to snore.
Holden sat up, testing the gravity . Less than a quarter g. Alex wasnât in
a hurry, then. Naomi was giving him and Miller time to heal before they
arrived at Julieâ s magical mystery asteroid.
Shit.
Naomi.
The last few times sheâd come into sick bay had been awkward. She
never brought the subject of his failed romantic gesture back up, but he
could feel a barrier between them now that filled him with regret. And
every time she left the room, Miller would look away from him and sigh,
which just made it worse.
But he couldnâ t avoid her forev er, no matter how much he felt like an
idiot. He swung his feet off the edge of the bed and pressed down on the
floor . His legs felt weak but not rubbery . The soles of his feet hurt, but quite
a bit less than nearly everything else on his body . He stood up, one hand
still on the bed, and tested his balance. He wobbled but remained upright.
Two steps reassured him that walking was possible in the light gravity . The
IV tugged at his arm. He was down to just one bag of something a faint
blue. He had no idea what it was, but after Naomiâ s descript ion of how
close to death heâd come, he figured it must be important. He pulled it off
the wall hook and held it in his left hand. The room smelled like antiseptic
and diarrhea. He was happy to be leaving.
âWhere you going?â Miller asked, his voice groggy .
âOut.â Holden had the sudden, visceral memory of being fifteen.
âOkay ,â Miller said, then rolled onto his side.
The sick bay hatch was four meters from the central ladde r, and
Recovery and Romantic Regret
- Holden attempts to recover from severe radiation exposure while the crew moves on from the tragedy at Eros.
- A palpable romantic tension and a new emotional barrier exist between Holden and Naomi following a failed gesture.
- Despite his physical weakness, Holden forces himself out of sick bay to face the crew and reclaim his role as captain.
- Amos observes the awkward dynamic between his crewmates and makes a quick exit to avoid the social friction.
The massive radiation exposure had failed to give him superpowers.
background noise of war drums, moved on. Eros had been a tragedy and a
crime, but it was finished, and there were new dangers popping up in every
corner of human space.
Holden turned off his newsfeed, fidgeted in his bunk, and tried to wake
Miller up by staring at him. It didnâ t work. The massive radiation exposure
had failed to give him superpowers. Miller began to snore.
Holden sat up, testing the gravity . Less than a quarter g. Alex wasnât in
a hurry, then. Naomi was giving him and Miller time to heal before they
arrived at Julieâ s magical mystery asteroid.
Shit.
Naomi.
The last few times sheâd come into sick bay had been awkward. She
never brought the subject of his failed romantic gesture back up, but he
could feel a barrier between them now that filled him with regret. And
every time she left the room, Miller would look away from him and sigh,
which just made it worse.
But he couldnâ t avoid her forev er, no matter how much he felt like an
idiot. He swung his feet off the edge of the bed and pressed down on the
floor . His legs felt weak but not rubbery . The soles of his feet hurt, but quite
a bit less than nearly everything else on his body . He stood up, one hand
still on the bed, and tested his balance. He wobbled but remained upright.
Two steps reassured him that walking was possible in the light gravity . The
IV tugged at his arm. He was down to just one bag of something a faint
blue. He had no idea what it was, but after Naomiâ s descript ion of how
close to death heâd come, he figured it must be important. He pulled it off
the wall hook and held it in his left hand. The room smelled like antiseptic
and diarrhea. He was happy to be leaving.
âWhere you going?â Miller asked, his voice groggy .
âOut.â Holden had the sudden, visceral memory of being fifteen.
âOkay ,â Miller said, then rolled onto his side.
The sick bay hatch was four meters from the central ladde r, and
Holden covered the ground with a slow, careful shuffle, his paper booties
making a whispery scuffing sound on the fabric-covered metal floor . The
ladder itself defeated him. Even though ops was only one deck up, the
three-meter climb might as well have been a thousand. He pressed the
button to call the lift, and a few seconds later, the floor hatch slid open and
the lift climbed through with an electric whine. Holden tried to hop on but
managed only a sort of slow-motion fall that ended with his clutching the
ladder and knee ling on the lift platform. He stopped the lift, pulled himself
upright, and started it again, then rode it up to the next deck in what he
hoped was a less beaten and more captain-like pose.
âJesus, Captain, you still look like shit,â Amos said as the lift came to
a stop. The mechanic was sprawled across two chairs at the sensor stations
and munching on what looked like a strip of leather .
âYou keep saying that.â
âKeeps beinâ true.â
âAmos, donât you have work to do?â Naomi said. She was sitting at
one of the computer stations, watching something flash by on the screen.
She didnâ t look up when Holden came onto the deck. That was a bad sign.
âNope. Most boring ship I ever worked, Boss. She donât break, she
donât leak, she donât even have an annoying rattle to tighten down,â Amos
replied as he sucked down the last of his snack and smacked his lips.
âThereâ s always mopping,â Naomi said, then tapped out something on
the screen in front of her . Amos looked from her to Holden and back again.
âOh, that reminds me. I better get down to the engine room and look at
that⌠thing Iâve been meaning to look at,â Amos said, and jumped to his
feet. ââScuse me, Cap.â
The Mystery of the Data Cube
- Amos senses tension between Holden and Naomi and makes a quick exit to the engine room.
- Fred Johnson sends a message from Tycho Station revealing that his team failed to find hidden messages in the data cube recovered from the Donnager.
- Naomi uses the Rocinante's advanced pattern-recognition software to analyze the raw EM sensor data, but the results remain inconclusive.
- Holden reflects on the sacrifice of Lieutenant Kelly, arguing that the data must be vital if a Martian Marine died to protect it.
- The crew begins to question if the data is simply tactical engine signatures or if they are missing a deeper significance.
Holden wanted to brush it back but was afraid sheâd snap his elbow with Belter kung fu if he tried.
âNope. Most boring ship I ever worked, Boss. She donât break, she
donât leak, she donât even have an annoying rattle to tighten down,â Amos
replied as he sucked down the last of his snack and smacked his lips.
âThereâ s always mopping,â Naomi said, then tapped out something on
the screen in front of her . Amos looked from her to Holden and back again.
âOh, that reminds me. I better get down to the engine room and look at
that⌠thing Iâve been meaning to look at,â Amos said, and jumped to his
feet. ââScuse me, Cap.â
He squeezed past Holden, hopp ed on the lift, and rode it sternward.
The deck hatch closed behind him.
âHey ,â Holden said to Naomi once Amos was gone.
âHey ,â she said without turning around. That wasnâ t good either . When
sheâd sent Amos away , heâd hoped she wanted to talk. It didnâ t look like it.
Holden sighed and shuffled over to the chair next to her. He collapsed into
it, his legs tingli ng like heâd run a kilometer instead of just walking twenty-
odd steps. Naomi had left her hair down, and it hid her face from him.
Holden wanted to brush it back but was afraid sheâd snap his elbow with
Belter kung fu if he tried.
âLook, Naomi,â he started, but she ignored him and hit a button on her
panel. He stopped when Fredâ s face appeared on the display in front of her .
âIs that Fred?â he said, because he couldnâ t think of anything even
more idiotic to say .
âYou should see this. Got it from Tycho a couple hours ago on the
tightbeam after I sent them an update on our status.â
Naomi tapped the play button and Fredâ s face sprang to life.
âNaomi, sounds like you guys have had a tough time of it. The airâs
full of chatter on the station shutdown, and the supposed nuclea r explosion.
No one knows what to make of it. Keep us informed. In the meantime, we
managed to hack open that data cube you left here. I donât think itâll help
much, though. Looks like a bunch of sensor data from the Donnager , mostly
EM stuff. Weâve tried looking for hidden messages, but my smartest people
canât find anything. Iâm passing the data along to you. Let me know if you
find anything. T ycho out.â
The screen went blank.
âWhat does the data look like?â Holden asked.
âItâs just what the man said,â Naomi said. âEM sensor data from the
Donnager during the pursuit by the six ships, and the battle itself. Iâve dug
through raw stuff, looking for anything hidden inside, but for the life of me,
I canât find a thing. Iâve even had the Roci digging through the data for the
last couple hours, looking for patterns. She has really good software for that
sort of thing. But so far , nothing.â
She tapped on the screen again and the raw data began spoolin g past
faster than Hold en could follow . In a small window inside the larger screen,
the Rocinante âs pattern-recog nition software worked to find meaning.
Holden watched it for a minute, but his eyes quickly unfocused.
âLieutenant Kelly died for this data,â he said. âHe left the ship while
his mates were still fighting. Marines donâ t do that unless it matters.â
Naomi shrugged and pointed at the screen with resignation.
âThatâ s what was on his cube,â she said. âMaybe thereâ s something
steganographic, but I donâ t have another dataset to compare it to.â
Holden began tapping on his thigh, his pain and romantic failures
momentarily for gotten.
âSo letâs say that this data is all that it is. Thereâ s nothing hidden . What
would this information mean to the Martian navy?â
Naomi leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes in thought, one
finger twisting and untwisting a curl of hair by her temple.
âItâs mostly EM data, so lots of engine-signature stuff. Drive radiation
is the best way to keep track of other ships. So that tells you where which
ships were during the fight. T actical data?â
âMaybe,â Holden said. âWould that be important enough to send Kelly
out with?â
Naomi took a deep breath and let it out slowly .
âI donâ t think so,â she said.
âMe either .â
Connecting the Drive Signatures
- Holden and Naomi analyze the tactical data Kelly died to protect, identifying it as a collection of electromagnetic and drive radiation signatures.
- Holden realizes the data serves as a forensic fingerprint to identify the ships that destroyed the Martian flagship, the Donnager.
- Detective Miller joins the group on the ops deck, offering a law enforcement perspective on why the data was sent as raw evidence rather than a simple name.
- The crew concludes that the sender provided 'dots' to connect so the recipient would reach the same conclusion without bias, given the high stakes.
- Holden discovers a critical reason for the sender's caution just as his console alerts him to new information.
I give him the dots, see what it looks like when he connects âem.
would this information mean to the Martian navy?â
Naomi leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes in thought, one
finger twisting and untwisting a curl of hair by her temple.
âItâs mostly EM data, so lots of engine-signature stuff. Drive radiation
is the best way to keep track of other ships. So that tells you where which
ships were during the fight. T actical data?â
âMaybe,â Holden said. âWould that be important enough to send Kelly
out with?â
Naomi took a deep breath and let it out slowly .
âI donâ t think so,â she said.
âMe either .â
Something tappe d at the edge of his conscious mind, asking to be let
in.
âWhat was that thing with Amos all about?â he said.
âAmos?â
âHim showing up at the airlock with two guns when we arrived,â he
said.
âThere was some trouble on our trip back to the ship.â
âTrouble for who?â Holden asked. Naomi actually smiled at that.
âSome bad men didnâ t want us to hack the lockdown on the Roci.
Amos talked it over with them. You didnâ t think it was because we were
waiting for you, did you, sir?â
Was there a smile in her voice? A hint of coyness? Flirtatio n? He
stopped himself from grinning.
âWhat did the Roci say about the data when you ran it?â Holden asked.
âHere,â Naomi replied, and hit something on her panel. The screen
began displaying long lists of data in text. âLots of EM and light spectrum
stuff, some leakage from damagedââ
Holden yelped. Naomi looked up at him.
âIâm such an idiot,â Holden said.
âGranted. Elaborate?â
Holden touched the screen and began scrolling up and down through
the data. He tapped one long list of numbers and letters and leaned back
with a grin.
âThere, thatâ s it,â he said.
âThatâ s what?â
âHull structure isnât the only recognition metric. Itâs the most accurate,
but itâs also got the shortest range andââhe gestured around him at the
Rocinante ââis the easiest to fool. The next best method is drive signature.
Canâ t mask your radiation and heat patterns. And theyâre easy to spot even
from really far away .â
Holden turned on the screen next to his chair and pulled up the shipâ s
friend/foe database, then linked it to the data on Naomiâ s screen.
âThatâ s what this message is, Naomi. Itâs telling Mars who killed the
Donnager by showing them what the drive signature was.â
âThen why not just say, âSo-an d-so killed us,â in a nice easy- to-read
text file?â Naomi asked, a skeptical frown on her face.
Holden leaned forward and paused, opened his mouth, then closed it
and sat back again with a sigh.
âI donâ t know .â
A hatch banged open with a hydraulic whine; then Naomi looked past
Holden to the ladder and said, âMiller âs coming up.â
Holden turned to watch the detective finish the slow climb up from the
sick bay deck. He looked like a plucked chicken, pink-gray skin stippled
with gooseflesh. His paper gown went poorly with the hat.
âUh, thereâ s a lift,â Holden said.
âWish Iâd known that,â Miller replied, then dragged himself up onto
the ops deck with a gasp. âW e there yet?â
âTrying to figure out a mystery ,â Holden said.
âI hate mysterie s,â Miller said, then hauled himself to his feet and
made his way to a chair .
âThen solve this one for us. You find out who murdered someone. You
canât arrest them yourself, so you send the information to your partner . But
instead of just sending the perpâ s name, you send your partner all the clues.
Why?â
Miller coughed and scratched his chin. His eyes were fixed on
something, like he was reading a screen Holden couldnâ t see.
âBecause I donât trust myself. I want my partner to arrive at the same
conclusion I did, without my biasing him. I give him the dots, see what it
looks like when he connects âem.â
âEspecially if guessing wrong has consequences,â Naomi said.
âYou donât like to screw up a murder charge,â Miller said with a nod.
âLooks unprofessional.â
Holdenâ s panel beeped at him.
âShit, I know why they were careful,â he said after reading his screen.
The Pattern of Deception
- Holden discovers that the ships responsible for the attack on the Donnager were likely built in Earth's orbital shipyards.
- Driven by a desire for transparency, Holden immediately broadcasts this sensitive data to the entire solar system.
- Detective Miller furiously criticizes Holden's impulsiveness, arguing that someone is intentionally framing different factions to escalate a total war.
- Miller points out a recurring pattern where the Canterbury was made to look like a Martian attack and the Donnager like a Belter attack.
- Holden defends his actions by claiming that making information public prevents secrets from being used as weapons, regardless of the immediate fallout.
They made the Canterbury look like Mars. It wasnât. They made the Donnager look like the Belt. It wasnât.
Miller coughed and scratched his chin. His eyes were fixed on
something, like he was reading a screen Holden couldnâ t see.
âBecause I donât trust myself. I want my partner to arrive at the same
conclusion I did, without my biasing him. I give him the dots, see what it
looks like when he connects âem.â
âEspecially if guessing wrong has consequences,â Naomi said.
âYou donât like to screw up a murder charge,â Miller said with a nod.
âLooks unprofessional.â
Holdenâ s panel beeped at him.
âShit, I know why they were careful,â he said after reading his screen.
âThe Roci thinks those were standard light-cruiser engines built by the Bush
Shipyards.â
âThey were Earth ships?â Naomi said. âBut they werenâ t flying any
colors, and⌠Son of a bitch !â
It was the first time Holden had ever heard her yell, and he understood.
If UNN black ops ships had killed the Donnager , then that meant Earth was
behind the whole thing. Maybe even killing the Canterbury in the first
place. It would mean that Martian warships were killing Belters for no
reason. Belters like Naomi.
Holden leaned forward and called up the comm display , then tapped
out a general broadcast. Miller caught his breath.
âThat button you just pressed doesnâ t do what I think it does, does it?â
he said.
âI finished Kellyâ s mission for him,â Holden said.
âI have no idea who the fuck Kelly is,â Miller said, âbut please tell me
that his mission wasnâ t broadcasting that data to the solar system at lar ge.â
âPeople need to know whatâ s going on,â Holden said.
âYes, they do, but maybe we should actually know what the hell is
going on before we tell them,â Miller replied, all the weariness gone from
his voice. âHow gullible are you?â
âHey ,â Holden said, but Miller got louder .
âYou found a Martian battery , right? So you told everyone in the solar
system about it and started the single largest war in human history . Only
turns out the Martians maybe werenâ t the ones that left it there. Then, a
bunch of myster y ships kill the Donnager , which Mars blames on the Belt,
only, dammit, the Belt didnâ t even know it was capable of killing a Martian
battle cruiser .â
Holden opened his mouth, but Miller grabbed a bulb of coffee Amos
had left behind on the console and threw it at his head.
âLet me finish! And now you find some data that implicates Earth.
First thing you do is blab it to the universe, so that Mars and the Belt drag
Earth into this thing, making the largest war of all time even bigger . Are
you seeing a pattern here?â
âYes,â Naomi said.
âSo what do you thinkâ s going to happen?â Miller said. âThis is how
these people work! They made the Canterbury look like Mars . It wasnâ t.
They made the Donnager look like the Belt. It wasnâ t. Now it looks like the
whole damn thingâs Earth? Follow the pattern. It probably isnât! You never ,
never put that kind of accusation out there until you know the score. You
look. You listen. Youâre quiet, fercrissakes, and when you know , then you
can make your case.â
The detective sat back, clearly exhausted. He was sweating. The deck
was silent.
âYou done?â Holden said.
Miller nodded, breathing heavily . âThink I might have strained
something.â
âI havenâ t accused anyone of doing anything,â Holden said. âIâm not
building a case. I just put the data out there. Now itâs not a secret. Theyâre
doing something on Eros. They donâ t want it interrupted. W ith Mars and the
Belt shooting at each other , everyone with the resources to help is busy
elsewhere.â
âAnd you just dragged Earth into it,â Miller said.
âMaybe,â Holde n said. âBut the killers did use ships that were built, at
least in part, at Earthâ s orbital shipyards. Maybe someone will look into
that. And thatâs the point. If everyone knows everything, nothing stays
secret.â
âYeah, well,â Miller said. Holden ignored him
âEventually , someoneâll figure out the big picture. This kind of thing
Exposing the Stealth Shark
- Holden justifies his decision to leak classified data to the public, believing that total transparency is the only way to stop the secret conspiracy on Eros.
- The crew of the Rocinante locates the stealth ship responsible for the destruction of the Canterbury, finding it tethered to a small, unremarkable asteroid.
- The stealth vessel is described as a predatory, shark-like craft with advanced radar-deflecting technology that makes it nearly invisible to standard sensors.
- Equipped with high-end military environment suits, Holden, Miller, and the crew board the enemy ship only to find it open to hard vacuum.
- The boarding party prepares for a dangerous investigation, suspecting the ship may be filled with the same 'vomit zombies' encountered on Eros.
It was long and lean and utterly black, almost impossible to see against the backdrop of space with the naked eye.
building a case. I just put the data out there. Now itâs not a secret. Theyâre
doing something on Eros. They donâ t want it interrupted. W ith Mars and the
Belt shooting at each other , everyone with the resources to help is busy
elsewhere.â
âAnd you just dragged Earth into it,â Miller said.
âMaybe,â Holde n said. âBut the killers did use ships that were built, at
least in part, at Earthâ s orbital shipyards. Maybe someone will look into
that. And thatâs the point. If everyone knows everything, nothing stays
secret.â
âYeah, well,â Miller said. Holden ignored him
âEventually , someoneâll figure out the big picture. This kind of thing
requires secrecy to function, so exposing all the secrets hurts them in the
end. Itâ s the only way this really , permanently stops.â
Miller sighed, nodded to himse lf, took off his hat, and scratched his
scalp.
âI was just going to put âem out an airlock,â Miller said.
BA8340241 12 wasnât much of an asteroid. Barely thirty meters across, it
had long ago been surveyed and found completely devoid of useful or
valuable minerals. It existed in the registry only to warn ships not to run
into it. Julie had left it tethered to wealth measured in the billion s when she
flew her small shuttle to Eros.
Up close, the ship that had killed the Scopuli and stolen its crew
looked like a shark. It was long and lean and utterly black, almost
impossible to see against the backdrop of space with the naked eye. Its
radar -deflecting curves gave it an aerodynamic look almost always lacking
in space-going vessels. It made Holdenâ s skin crawl, but it was beautiful.
âMotherfucker ,â Amos said under his breath as the crew clustered in
the cockpit of the Rocinante to look at it.
âThe Roci doesnât even see it, Cap,â Alex said. âIâm pourinâ ladar into
it, and all we see is a slightly warmer spot on the asteroid.â
âLike Becca saw just before the Cant died,â Naomi said.
âHer shuttleâ s been launched, so Iâm guessinâ this is the right stealth
ship someone left tied to a rock,â Alex added. âCase thereâ s more than
one.â
Holden tapped his fingers on the back of Alexâ s chair for a moment as
he floated over the pilotâ s head.
âItâs probably full of vomit zombies,â Holden finally said.
âWant to go see?â said Miller .
âOh yeah,â Holden said.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Miller
The environmen t suit was better than Miller was used to. Heâd only done a
couple walks outside during his years on Ceres, and the Star Helix
equipment had been old back then: thick corrugated joints, separable air-
supply unit, gloves that left his hands thirty degrees colder than the rest of
his body . The Rocinante âs suits were military and recent, no bulkier than
standard riot gear, with integra ted life support that could probably keep
fingers warm after a hand got shot off. Miller floated, one hand on a strap in
the airlock, and flexed his fingers, watching the sharkskin pattern of the
knuckle joints.
It didnâ t feel like enough.
âAll right, Alex,â Holden said. âWeâre in place. Have the Roci knock
for us.â
A deep, rumbling vibration shook them. Naomi put a hand against the
airlockâ s curved wall to steady herself. Amos shifted forward to take point,
a reactionless automatic rifle in his hands. When he bent his neck, Miller
could hear the vertebrae cracking through his radio. It was the only way he
could have heard it; they were already in vacuum.
âOkay , Captain,â Alex said. âIâve got a seal. The standard security
override isnâ t working, so give me a second⌠toâŚâ
âProblem?â Holden said.
âGot it. Iâve got it. We have a connection,â Alex said. Then, a moment
later: âAh. It doesnâ t look like thereâ s much to breathe over there.â
âAnything?â Holden asked.
âNope. Hard vacuum,â Alex said. âBoth her lock doors are open.â
âAll right, folks,â Holden said, âkeep an eye on your air supply . Letâs
go.â
Boarding the Dead Ship
- The crew of the Rocinante boards a silent, depressurized vessel that has been completely vented to hard vacuum.
- Signs of a violent struggle are evident throughout the ship, including bullet holes, damaged lockers, and traces of 'zombie vomit.'
- Holden insists the group stay together for safety as they navigate the dark, abandoned corridors toward the engine room.
- The team discovers the ship is a stealthy powerhouse equipped with twelve capital-ship-busting torpedo tubes.
- The lack of personal effects or identification in the crew quarters suggests a highly secretive or clinical military operation.
One locker was bent out of shape, like someone or something had forced its way out from within.
airlockâ s curved wall to steady herself. Amos shifted forward to take point,
a reactionless automatic rifle in his hands. When he bent his neck, Miller
could hear the vertebrae cracking through his radio. It was the only way he
could have heard it; they were already in vacuum.
âOkay , Captain,â Alex said. âIâve got a seal. The standard security
override isnâ t working, so give me a second⌠toâŚâ
âProblem?â Holden said.
âGot it. Iâve got it. We have a connection,â Alex said. Then, a moment
later: âAh. It doesnâ t look like thereâ s much to breathe over there.â
âAnything?â Holden asked.
âNope. Hard vacuum,â Alex said. âBoth her lock doors are open.â
âAll right, folks,â Holden said, âkeep an eye on your air supply . Letâs
go.â
Miller took a long breath. The external airlock went from soft red to
soft green. Holden slid it open, and Amos launched forward, the captain just
behind him. Miller gestured to Naomi with a nod. Ladies first.
The connecting gantry was reinforced, ready to deflect enemy lasers or
slow down slugs. Amos lande d on the other ship as the hatch to the
Rocinante closed behind them. Miller had a momentâ s vertigo, the ship
before them suddenly clicking from ahead to down in his perception, as if
they were falling into something.
âYou all right?â Naomi asked.
Miller nodded, and Amos passed into the other shipâ s hatch. One by
one, they went in.
The ship was dead. The lights coming off their environment suits
played over the soft, almost streamlined curves of the bulkheads, the
cushioned walls , the gray suit lockers. One locker was bent out of shape,
like someone or something had forced its way out from within. Amos
pushed off slow. Under norma l circumstances, hard vacuum would have
been assurance enough that nothing was about to jump out at them. Right
now, Miller figured it was only even money .
âWhole place is shut down,â Holden said.
âMight be backups in the engine room,â Amos said.
âSo the ass end of the ship from here,â Holden said.
âPretty much.â
âLetâ s be careful,â Holden said.
âIâm heading up to ops,â Naom i said. âIf thereâ s anything running off
battery , I canââ
âNo, you arenâ t,â Holden said. âWe arenâ t splitting up the group until
we know what weâre looking at. Stay together .â
Amos moved down, sinking into the darkness. Holden pushed off after
him. Miller followed. He couldnâ t tell from Naomiâ s body language whether
she was annoyed or relieved.
The galley was empty , but signs of struggle showed here and there. A
chair with a bent leg. A long, jagged scratch down the wall where
something sharp had flaked the paint. Two bullet holes set high along one
bulkhead where a shot had gone wide. Miller put a hand out, grabbed one of
the tables, and swung slowly .
âMiller?â Holden said. âAre you coming?â
âLook at this,â Miller said.
The dark spill was the color of amber , flaky and shining like glass in
his flashlight beam. Holden hovered closer .
âZombie vomit?â Holden said.
âThink so.â
âWell. I guess weâre on the right ship. For some value of right.â
The crew quarters hung silent and empty . They went through each of
them, but there were no person al markingsâno terminals, no pictures, no
clues to the names of the men and women who had lived and breathed and
presumably died on the ship. Even the captainâ s cabin was indicated only by
a slightly lar ger bunk and the face of a locked safe.
There was a massive central compartment as high and wide as the hull
of the Rocinante, the darkness dominated by twelve huge cylinders
encrusted with narrow catwalks and scaffolds. Miller saw Naomiâ s
expression harden.
âWhat are they?â Miller asked.
âTorpedo tubes,â she said.
âTorpedo tubes?â he said. âJesus Christ, how many are they packing?
A million?â
âTwelve,â she said. âJust twelve.â
âCapital-ship busters,â Amos said. âBuilt to pretty much kill whatever
youâre aiming at with the first shot.â
âSomething like the Donnager? â Miller asked.
The Horror in Engineering
- Miller and the crew explore a derelict ship, discovering massive 'capital-ship buster' torpedo tubes capable of destroying vessels like the Canterbury.
- Miller uses his detective instincts to track footprints through blood and vomit, identifying Julie Mao's trail as the most recent activity on the ship.
- Upon reaching the engineering deck, the crew restores partial power, only to be blinded by the sudden illumination of a gruesome scene.
- The crew discovers that the ship's personnel have been fused into a horrific, unrecognizable mass of flesh and alien structures around the reactor.
The long snake of a spine curved, ribs fanning out like the legs of some perverse insect.
clues to the names of the men and women who had lived and breathed and
presumably died on the ship. Even the captainâ s cabin was indicated only by
a slightly lar ger bunk and the face of a locked safe.
There was a massive central compartment as high and wide as the hull
of the Rocinante, the darkness dominated by twelve huge cylinders
encrusted with narrow catwalks and scaffolds. Miller saw Naomiâ s
expression harden.
âWhat are they?â Miller asked.
âTorpedo tubes,â she said.
âTorpedo tubes?â he said. âJesus Christ, how many are they packing?
A million?â
âTwelve,â she said. âJust twelve.â
âCapital-ship busters,â Amos said. âBuilt to pretty much kill whatever
youâre aiming at with the first shot.â
âSomething like the Donnager? â Miller asked.
Holden looked back at him, the glow of his heads-up display lighting
his features.
âOr the Canterbury ,â he said.
The four of them passed between the wide black tubes in silence.
In the machine and fabrication shops, the signs of violence were more
pronounced. There was blood on the floor and walls, along with wide
swaths of the glassy gold resin that had once been vomit. A uniform lay in a
ball. The cloth had been wadded and soaked in something before the cold of
space had frozen it. Habits formed from years of walking through crime
scenes put a dozen small things in place: the pattern of scratches on the
floor and lift doors, the spatter of blood and vomit, the footprints. They all
told the story .
âTheyâre in engineering,â Miller said.
âWho?â Holden said.
âThe crew. Who ever was on the ship. All except that one,â he said,
gesturing at half a footprint that led toward the lift. âYou see how her
footprints are over the top of everything else. And there, where she stepped
in that blood, it was already dry . Flaked instead of smearing.â
âHow you know it was a girl?â Holden asked.
âBecause it was Julie,â Miller said.
âWell, whoever âs in there, theyâve been sucking vacuum for a long
time,â Amos said. âW ant to go see?â
No one said yes, but they all floated forward. The hatch stood open. If
the darkness beyond it seemed more solid, more ominous, more personal
than the rest of the dead ship had, it was only Miller âs imagina tion playing
tricks. He hesitated, trying to summon up the image of Julie, but she
wouldnâ t come.
Floating into the engineering deck was like swimming into a cave.
Miller saw the other flashlights playing over walls and panels, looking for
live controls, or else controls that could come alive. He aimed his own
beam into the body of the room, the dark swallowing it.
âWe got batteries, Capân,â Amos said. âAnd⌠looks like the reactor
got shut down. Intentional.â
âThink you can get it back up?â
âWant to run some diagnostics,â Amos said. âThere could be a reason
they shut it of f, and I donâ t want to find out the hard way .â
âGood point.â
âBut I can at least get us⌠some⌠come on, you bastard.â
All around the deck, blue-white lights flared up. The sudden brilliance
blinded Miller for a half second. His vision returned with a sense of
growing confusion. Naomi gasped, and Holden yelped. Something in the
back of Miller âs own mind started to shriek, and he forced it into silence. It
was just a crime scene. They were only bodies.
Except they werenâ t.
The reactor stood before him, quiescent and dead. All around it, a layer
of huma n flesh. He could pick out arms, hands with fingers splayed so wide
they hurt to look at. The long snake of a spine curved, ribs fanning out like
the legs of some perverse insect. He tried to make what he was seeing make
sense. Heâd seen men eviscerated before. He knew that the long, ropy swirl
to the left of the thing were intestines. He could see where the small bowel
widened to become a colon. The familiar shape of a skull looked out at him.
But then, among the familiar anatomy of death and dismemberment,
there were other things: nautilus spirals, wide swaths of soft black filament,
The Anatomy of Death
- Miller and the crew discover a horrific scene where human remains have fused with the ship's reactor in unnatural, alien configurations.
- Amos remains detached and pragmatic, offering to repair the reactor despite the presence of the biological nightmare surrounding it.
- The group realizes that the biological horror they are witnessing is likely the same phenomenon currently occurring on Eros.
- Miller observes that the ship lacks a brig, leading him to conclude that the mission was either improvised or rushed under extreme pressure.
The long snake of a spine curved, ribs fanning out like the legs of some perverse insect.
back of Miller âs own mind started to shriek, and he forced it into silence. It
was just a crime scene. They were only bodies.
Except they werenâ t.
The reactor stood before him, quiescent and dead. All around it, a layer
of huma n flesh. He could pick out arms, hands with fingers splayed so wide
they hurt to look at. The long snake of a spine curved, ribs fanning out like
the legs of some perverse insect. He tried to make what he was seeing make
sense. Heâd seen men eviscerated before. He knew that the long, ropy swirl
to the left of the thing were intestines. He could see where the small bowel
widened to become a colon. The familiar shape of a skull looked out at him.
But then, among the familiar anatomy of death and dismemberment,
there were other things: nautilus spirals, wide swaths of soft black filament,
a pale expanse of something that might have been skin cut by a dozen gill-
like vents, a half-formed limb that looked equally like an insect and a fetus
without being either one. The frozen, dead flesh surrounded the reactor like
the skin of an orange. The crew of the stealth ship. Maybe of the Scopuli as
well.
All but Julie.
âYeah,â Amos said. âThis could take a little longer than I was thinking,
Cap.â
âItâs okay,â Holden said. His voice on the radio sounded shaky . âYou
donât have to.â
âItâs no trouble. As long as none of that freaky shit broke the
containment, reactor should boot up just fine.â
âYou donâ t mind being around⌠it?â Holden said.
âHonest, Capân, Iâm not thinking about it. Give me twenty minutes,
Iâll tell you if we got power or if we have to patch a line over from the
Roci. â
âOkay ,â Holden said. And then again, his voice more solid: âOkay , but
donât touch any of that.â
âWasnât going to,â Amos said.
They floated back out through the hatch, Holden and Naom i and
Miller coming last.
âIs thatâŚâ Naomi said, then coughed and started again. âIs that whatâ s
happening on Eros?â
âProbably ,â Miller said.
âAmos,â Holden said. âDo you have enough battery power to light up
the computers?â
There was a pause. Miller took a deep breath, the plastic-and -ozone
scent of the suitâ s air system filling his nose.
âI think so,â Amos said dubiou sly. âBut if we can get the reactor up
firstâŚâ
âBring up the computers.â
âYouâre the captain, Capân,â Amos said. âHave it to you in five.â
In silence, they floated upâbackâto the airlock, and past it to the
operations deck. Miller hung back, watching the way Holdenâ s trajectory
kept him near Naomi and then away from her .
Protective and head-shy both, Miller thought. Bad combination.
Julie was waiting in the airlock. Not at first, of course. Miller slid back
into the space, his mind churning through everything heâd seen, just like it
was a case. A normal case. His gaze drifted toward the broken locker. There
was no suit in it. For a moment, he was back on Eros, in the apartment
where Julie had died. There had been an environment suit there. And then
Julie was there with him, pushing her way out of the locker .
What wer e you doing ther e? he thought.
âNo brig,â he said.
âWhat?â Holden said.
âI just noticed,â Miller said. âShipâs got no brig. They arenâ t built to
carry prisoners.â
Holden made a low agreeing grunt.
âMakes you wonder what they were planning to do with the crew of
the Scopuli, â Naomi said. The tone of her voice meant she didnâ t wonder at
all.
âI donât think they were,â Miller said slowly . âThis whole thing⌠they
were improvising.â
âImprovising?â Naomi said.
âShip was carrying an infectious something or other without enough
containment to contain it. Taking on prisoners without a brig to hold âem in.
They were making this up as they went along.â
âOr they had to hurry ,â Holden said. âSomething happened that made
them hurry. But what they did on Eros must have taken months to arrange.
Maybe years. So maybe something happened at the last minute?â
Improvisation and Recorded Ghosts
- Miller and the crew analyze the Anubis, concluding that the captors were improvising or rushed despite long-term planning on Eros.
- The group splits up to investigate the ship's systems, with Naomi staying in the ops deck while Holden and Miller head to the bridge.
- Miller accesses the internal security monitors to view footage from the day the Scopuli crew was captured.
- Watching the footage, Miller experiences a profound sense of dislocation seeing Julie Mao in motion for the first time rather than in still photos.
- The recorded footage reveals the armored captors forcing the Belter crew to strip, suggesting a clinical or dehumanizing intent.
In motion, she looked a little different from the imaginary version heâd built of herâthe way she pulled her shoulders back, the habit of reaching her toes toward the floor even in null gâbut the basic image was the same.
Holden made a low agreeing grunt.
âMakes you wonder what they were planning to do with the crew of
the Scopuli, â Naomi said. The tone of her voice meant she didnâ t wonder at
all.
âI donât think they were,â Miller said slowly . âThis whole thing⌠they
were improvising.â
âImprovising?â Naomi said.
âShip was carrying an infectious something or other without enough
containment to contain it. Taking on prisoners without a brig to hold âem in.
They were making this up as they went along.â
âOr they had to hurry ,â Holden said. âSomething happened that made
them hurry. But what they did on Eros must have taken months to arrange.
Maybe years. So maybe something happened at the last minute?â
âBe interesting to know what,â Miller said.
Compared to the rest of the ship, the ops deck looked peaceful.
Normal. The computers had finished their diagnostics, screens glowing
placidly . Naomi went to one, holding the back of the chair with one hand so
the gentle touch of her finge rs against the screen wouldnâ t push her
backward.
âIâll do what I can here,â she said. âY ou can check the bridge.â
There was a pause that carried weight.
âIâll be fine,â Naomi said.
âAll right. I know youâll⌠I⌠Câmon, Miller .â
Miller let the captain float ahead into the bridge. The screen s there
were spooling through diagnost ics so standard Miller recognized them. It
was a wider space than heâd imagined, with five stations with crash couches
customized for other peopleâ s bodies. Holden strapped in at one. Miller took
a slow turn around the deck. Nothing seemed out of place hereâno blood,
no broken chairs or torn padding. When it happened, the fight had been
down near the reactor . He wasnâ t sure yet what that meant. He sat at what,
under a standard layout, would have been the security station, and opened a
private channel to Holden.
âAnything youâre looking for in particular?â
âBriefings. Overviews,â Holde n said shortly . âWhatever âs useful.
You?â
âSee if I can get into the internal monitors.â
âHoping to findâŚ?â
âWhat Julie found,â Miller said.
The security assumed that anyo ne sitting at the console had access to
the low-level feeds. It still took half an hour to parse the command structure
and query interf ace. Once Miller had that down, it wasnâ t hard. The time
stamp on the log listed the feed as the day the Scopuli had gone missing.
The security camera in the airlock bay showed the crewâBelters, most of
themâbeing escorted in. Their captors were in armor , with faceplates
lowered. Miller wondered if theyâd meant to keep their identities secret.
That would almost have suggested they were planning to keep the crew
alive. Or maybe they were just wary of some last-minute resistance. The
crew of the Scopuli werenâ t wearing environment suits or armor . A couple
of them werenâ t even wearing uniforms.
But Julie was.
It was strange, watching her move. With a sense of dislocation, Miller
realized that heâd never actually seen her in motion. All the pictures heâd
had in his file back on Ceres had been stills. Now here she was, floating
with her chosen compatriots, her hair back out of her eyes, her jaw
clamped. She looked very small surrounded by her crew and the men in
armor . The little rich girl whoâd turned her back on wealth and status to be
with the downtrodden Belt. The girl whoâd told her mother to sell the
Razorback âthe ship sheâd lovedârather than give in to emotional
blackmail. In motion, she looked a little different from the imaginary
version heâd built of herâthe way she pulled her shoulders back, the habit
of reach ing her toes toward the floor even in null gâbut the basic image
was the same. He felt like he was filling in blanks with the new details
rather than reimagining the woman.
The guards said somethingâthe security feedâ s audio was playing to
vacuumâand the Scopuli crew looked aghast. Then, hesitantly , the captain
started taking his uniform off. They were stripping the prisoners. Miller
The Fall of the Scopuli
- Miller reviews security footage of the Scopuli crew being stripped and detained by their captors.
- Julie Mao resists her captors with martial arts, breaking a guard's arm before being subdued and locked in a storage locker.
- The crew attempts a desperate uprising after 132 hours, resulting in a brutal defeat and the execution of a crew member via airlock.
- A mysterious illness or infection begins to manifest among the crew as a man emerges from quarters to vomit on a guard.
- In the present, Amos reports that the reactor shielding has been stripped, exposing the current team to dangerous radiation levels.
Miller winced when he saw the manâs elbow bend the wrong way, but he also smiled.
blackmail. In motion, she looked a little different from the imaginary
version heâd built of herâthe way she pulled her shoulders back, the habit
of reach ing her toes toward the floor even in null gâbut the basic image
was the same. He felt like he was filling in blanks with the new details
rather than reimagining the woman.
The guards said somethingâthe security feedâ s audio was playing to
vacuumâand the Scopuli crew looked aghast. Then, hesitantly , the captain
started taking his uniform off. They were stripping the prisoners. Miller
shook his head.
âBad plan.â
âWhat?â Holden said.
âNothing. Sorry .â
Julie wasnâ t moving. One of the guards moved toward her, his legs
braced on the wall. Julie, whoâd lived through being raped, maybe, or
something as bad. Whoâd studied jiu jitsu to feel safe afterward. Maybe
they thought she was just being modest. Maybe they were afraid she was
hiding a weapon under her clothes. Either way, they tried to force the point.
One of the guards pushed her, and she latched on to his arm like her life
depended on it. Miller winced when he saw the manâ s elbow bend the
wrong way , but he also smiled.
Thatâ s my girl, he thought. Give âem hell.
And she did. For almost forty seconds, the airlock bay was a
battleground. Even some of the cowed Scopuli crew tried to join in. But
then Julie didnâ t see a thick-sho uldered man launch from behind her. Miller
felt it when the gauntleted hand hammered Julieâ s temple. She wasnâ t out,
but she was groggy. The men with guns stripped her with a cold efficiency ,
and when there were no weapons or comm devices, they handed her a
jumpsuit and shoved her in a locker . The others, they led down into the
ship. Miller matched time stamps and switched feeds.
The prisoners were taken to the galley , then bound to the tables. One of
the guards spent a minute or so talking, but with his faceplate down, the
only clues Mille r had to the content of the sermon were the reactions of the
crewâwide-eyed disbelief, confusion, outrage, and fear. The guard could
have been saying anything.
Miller started skipping. A few hours, then a few more. The ship was
under thrust, the prisoners actually sitting at the tables instead of floating
near them. He flipped to other parts of the ship. Julieâ s locker was still
closed. If he hadnâ t known better , heâd have assumed she was dead.
He skipped ahead.
One hundred and thirty-two hours later, the crew of the Scopuli grew a
pair. Miller saw it in their bodies even before the violence started. Heâd
seen holding cells rise up before , and the prisoners had the same sullen-but-
excited look. The feed showed the stretch of wall where heâd seen the bullet
holes. They werenât there yet. They would be. A man came into the picture
with a tray of food rations.
Here it comes, Miller thought.
The fight was short and brutal. The prisoners didnâ t stand a chance.
Miller watched as they hauled one of themâa sandy-haired manâto the
airlock and spaced him. The others were put in heavy restraints. Some wept.
Some screamed. Miller skipped ahead.
It had to be in there someplace. The moment when itâwhatever it was
âgot loose. But either it had happened in some unmonitored crew quarters
or it had been there from the beginning. Almost exactly one hundred and
sixty hours after Julie had gone into the locker , a man in a white jumper ,
eyes glassy and stance unsure, lurched out of the crew quarters and vomited
on one of the guards.
âFuck!â Amos shouted.
Miller was out of his chair befor e he knew what had happened. Holden
was up too.
âAmos?â Holden said. âT alk to me.â
âHold on,â Amo s said. âYeah, itâs okay , Capân. Itâs just these fuckers
stripped off a bunch of the reactor shielding. Weâve got her up, but I sucked
down a few more rads than Iâd have picked.â
The Protogen Discovery
- Amos suffers radiation exposure while repairing the ship's reactor shielding, which had been stripped by the previous crew.
- Holden and Miller investigate the station's logs to identify the final actions taken before the system went dark.
- The data reveals a mysterious two-day silence followed by a spike in activity where someone, likely Julie, accessed specific files and blew the atmosphere.
- The investigation uncovers a high-resolution corporate video from Protogen detailing the 'Phoebe protomolecule' as a game-changing technological breakthrough.
- A sociopathic-looking man in the video thanks a Mr. Dresden and the board for their financial support of the project's incredible discoveries.
He had dark hair, with just a scattering of gray at the temples, and lips that seemed used to smiling. He nodded at the camera. The smile didnât reach his eyes, which were as empty as a sharkâs.
or it had been there from the beginning. Almost exactly one hundred and
sixty hours after Julie had gone into the locker , a man in a white jumper ,
eyes glassy and stance unsure, lurched out of the crew quarters and vomited
on one of the guards.
âFuck!â Amos shouted.
Miller was out of his chair befor e he knew what had happened. Holden
was up too.
âAmos?â Holden said. âT alk to me.â
âHold on,â Amo s said. âYeah, itâs okay , Capân. Itâs just these fuckers
stripped off a bunch of the reactor shielding. Weâve got her up, but I sucked
down a few more rads than Iâd have picked.â
âGet back to the Roci, â Holden said. Miller steadied himself against a
wall, pushing back down toward the control stations.
âNo offense, sir, but it ainât like Iâm about to start pissing blood or
anything fun like that,â Amos said. âI got surprised more than anything. I
start feeling itchy , Iâll head back over, but I can get some atmosphere for us
by working out of the machine shop if you give me a few more minutes.â
Miller watched Holdenâ s face as the man struggled. He could make it
an order; he could leave it be.
âOkay , Amos. But you start getting light-headed or anythingâI mean
anything âand you get over to the sick bay .â
âAye, aye,â Amos said.
âAlex, keep an eye on Amosâ biomed feed from over there. Give us a
heads-up if you see a problem,â Holden said on the general channel.
âRoger ,â came Alexâ s lazy drawl.
âYou finding anything?â Holden asked Miller on their private channel.
âNothing unexpected,â Miller said. âY ou?â
âYeah, actually . Take a look.â
Miller pushed himself to the screen Holden had been working. Holden
pulled himself back into the station and started pulling up feeds.
âI was thinking that someone had to go last,â Holden said. âI mean,
there had to be someone who was the least sick when whateve r it was got
loose. So I went through the directory to see what activity was going on
before the system went dead.â
âAnd?â
âThereâ s a whole bunch of activity that looks like it happened a couple
days before the system shutdow n, and then nothing for two solid days. And
then a little spike. A lot of accessed files and system diagnostics. Then
someone hacked the override codes to blow atmosphere.â
âIt was Julie, then.â
âThatâ s what I was thinking,â Holden said. âBut one of the feeds she
accessed was⌠Shit, where is it? It was right⌠Oh. Here. W atch this.â
The screen blinked, controls dropping to standby , and a high-res
emblem, green and gold, came up. The corporate logo of Protogen, with a
slogan Miller hadnâ t seen before. First. Fastest. Furthest.
âWhatâ s the time stamp on the file?â Miller asked.
âThe original was created abou t two years ago,â Holden said. âThis
copy was burned eight months ago.â
The emblem faded, and a pleasa nt-faced man sitting at a desk took its
place. He had dark hair, with just a scattering of gray at the temples, and
lips that seemed used to smiling. He nodded at the camera. The smile didnâ t
reach his eyes, which were as empty as a sharkâ s.
Sociopath, Miller thought.
The manâ s lips began moving soundlessly . Holden said, âShit,â and hit
a switch to have the audio trans mitted to their suits. He rewound the video
feed and started it over .
âMr. Dresden,â the man said. âI would like to thank you and the
members of the board for taking the time to review this inform ation. Your
support, both financial and otherwise, has been absolutely essential to the
incredible disco veries weâve seen on this project. While my team has been
point man, as it were, Protogenâ s tireless commitment to the advancement
of science has made our work possible.
âGentlemen, I will be frank. The Phoebe protomolecule has exceeded
all our expectat ions. I believe it represents a genuinely game-changing
technological breakthrough. I know that these kinds of corporate
presentations are prone to hyperbole. Please understand that I have thought
The Phoebe Discovery
- A corporate presentation by Protogen reveals that the moon Phoebe is not a natural body but an ancient, engineered weapon.
- The 'protomolecule' payload was intended to reach Earth over two billion years ago to intercept and redirect early life.
- The protomolecule functions as a set of free-floating instructions capable of adapting to and scaling within complex biological systems.
- Protogen leadership believes this technology will make them the most powerful entity in human history through bold and potentially lethal action.
- The discovery implies the existence of a much larger, extra-solar biosphere that views our solar system as a target for biological manipulation.
We have determined beyond any credible doubt that what you are seeing now is not a naturally formed planetesimal, but a weapon.
support, both financial and otherwise, has been absolutely essential to the
incredible disco veries weâve seen on this project. While my team has been
point man, as it were, Protogenâ s tireless commitment to the advancement
of science has made our work possible.
âGentlemen, I will be frank. The Phoebe protomolecule has exceeded
all our expectat ions. I believe it represents a genuinely game-changing
technological breakthrough. I know that these kinds of corporate
presentations are prone to hyperbole. Please understand that I have thought
about this carefully and chosen my words: Protogen can becom e the most
important and powerful entity in the history of the human race. But it will
require initiative, ambition, and bold action.â
âHeâ s talking about killing people,â Miller said.
âYouâve seen this already?â Holden said.
Miller shook his head. The feed changed. The man faded out, and an
animation took his place. A graphic representation of the solar system.
Orbits marked in wide swaths of color showed the plane of the ecliptic. The
virtual camera swirled out from the inner planets, where Mr. Dresden and
board members presumably were, and out toward the gas giants.
âFor those of you on the board unfamiliar with the project, eight years
ago, the first manned landing was made on Phoebe,â the sociopath said.
The animation zoomed in toward Saturn, rings and planet flying past
in a triumph of graphic design over accuracy .
âA small ice moon, the assumption was that Phoebe would eventually
be mined for water , much like the rings themselves. The Martian
government commissioned a scientific survey more out of a sense of
bureaucratic completeness than from expectation of economic gain. Core
samples were taken, and when silicate anomalies raised flags, Protogen was
approached as cosponsor of a long-term research facility .â
The moon itselfâ Phoebeâfilled the frame, turning slowly to show all
sides like a prostitute at a cheap brothel. It was a crater -marked lump,
indistinguishable from a thousand other asteroids and planetesimals Miller
had seen.
âGiven Phoebeâ s extra-ecliptical orbit,â the sociopath went on, âone
theory has been that it was a body that originated in the Kuiper belt and had
been captured by Saturn when it happened to pass through the solar system.
The existence of complex silicon structures within the interior ice, along
with suggestions of impact-resis tant structures within the architecture of the
body itself, have forced us to reevaluate this.
âUsing analyses proprietary to Protogen and not yet shared with the
Martian team, we have determined beyond any credible doubt that what you
are seeing now is not a naturally formed planetesimal, but a weapon.
Specifically , a weapon designed to carry its payload through the depths of
interplanetary space and deliver it safely onto Earth two and one third
billion years ago, when life itself was in its earliest stages. And the payload,
gentlemen, is this.â
The display clicked to a graph ic that Miller couldnâ t quite parse. It
looked like the medical text of a virus, but with wide, loopin g structures
that were at once beautiful and improbable.
âThe protomolecule first caught our interest for its ability to maintain
its prima ry structure in a wide variety of conditions through secondary and
tertiary changes. It also showed an affinity for carbon and silicon structures.
Its activ ity sugg ested it was not in itself a living thing, but a set of free-
floating instructions designed to adapt to and guide other replicating
systems. Anima l experiments suggest that its effects are not exclusive to
simple replicators, but are, in fact, scalable.â
âAnimal tests,â Miller said. âWhat, they dumped it on a cat?â
âThe initial implication of this,â the sociopath went on, âis that a larger
biosphere exists, of which our solar system is only a part, and that the
protomolecule is an artifact of that environment. That alone, I think you
The Protomolecule and Protogen
- The protomolecule is identified as a set of free-floating instructions designed to hijack and reprogram biological systems.
- Protogen executives view the alien artifact as a prefabricated mechanism for total control over the galactic biosphere.
- The ongoing war between planetary powers is revealed to be a calculated distraction from Protogen's large-scale human testing.
- Miller and Holden realize that the tragedy on Eros was a deliberate experiment to see how the protomolecule functions in a human environment.
The sociopath reappeared. For the first time, smile lines appeared around his eyes, like a parody of themselves.
its prima ry structure in a wide variety of conditions through secondary and
tertiary changes. It also showed an affinity for carbon and silicon structures.
Its activ ity sugg ested it was not in itself a living thing, but a set of free-
floating instructions designed to adapt to and guide other replicating
systems. Anima l experiments suggest that its effects are not exclusive to
simple replicators, but are, in fact, scalable.â
âAnimal tests,â Miller said. âWhat, they dumped it on a cat?â
âThe initial implication of this,â the sociopath went on, âis that a larger
biosphere exists, of which our solar system is only a part, and that the
protomolecule is an artifact of that environment. That alone, I think you
must agree, would revolutionize human understanding of the universe. Let
me assure you, itâs small beer. If accidents of orbital mechanics had not
captured Phoeb e, life as we know it would not presently exist. But
something else would. The earliest cellular life on Earth would have been
hijacked. Repro grammed along lines contained within the structure of the
protomolecule.â
The sociopath reappeared. For the first time, smile lines appeared
around his eyes, like a parody of themselves. Miller felt a visceral hatred
growing in his gut and knew himself well enough to recognize it for what it
was. Fear .
âProtogen is in a position to take sole possession of not only the first
technology of genuinely extraterrestrial origin, but also a prefabricated
mechanism for the manipulation of living systems and the first clues as to
the nature of the largerâI will call it galactic âbiosphere. Directed by
human hands, the applications of this are limitless. I believe that the
opportunity now facing not only us but life itself is as profound and
transformative as anything that has ever happened. And, further , the control
of this technolo gy will represent the base of all political and economic
power from now on.
âI urge you to consider the technical details I have outlined in the
attached. Moving quickly to understand the programming, mechanism, and
intent of the protomolecule, as well as its direct application to human
beings, will mark the differenc e between a Protogen-led future and being
left behind. I urge immediate and decisive action to take exclusive control
of the protomolecule and move forward with lar ge-scale testing.
âThank you for your time and attention.â
The sociopath smiled again, and the corporate logo reappeared. First.
Fastest. Furthest. Miller âs heart was racing.
âOkay . All right,â he said. And then: âFuck me.â
âProtogen, protomolecule,â Holden said. âThey had no idea what it
does, but they slapped their label on it like theyâd made it. They found an
alien weapon, and all they could think to do was brand it.â
âThereâ s reason to think these boys are pretty impressed with
themselves,â Miller replied with a nod.
âNow , Iâm not a scientist or anything,â Holden said, âbut it seems to
me like taking an alien supervirus and dropping it into a space station
would be a bad idea.â
âItâs been two years,â Miller said. âTheyâve been doing tests. Theyâve
been⌠I donât know what the hell theyâve been doing. But Eros is what
they decided on. And everyone knows what happened on Eros. The other
side did it. No research and recovery ships because theyâre all fighting each
other or guarding something. The war? Itâ s a distraction.â
âAnd Protogen is doing⌠what?â
âSeeing what their toy does when you take it out for a spin is my
guess,â Miller said.
They were silent for a long moment. Holden spoke first.
âSo you take a company that seems to be lacking an instit utional
conscience, that has enough government research contracts to almost be a
privately run branch of the military . How far will they go for the holy
grail?â
âFirst, fastest, furthest,â Miller replied.
âYeah.â
âGuys,â Naomi said, âyou should come down here. I think Iâve got
something.â
Chapter Thirty-Five
Holden
The Thoth Station Logs
- Holden and Miller discuss the lack of institutional conscience in the corporation behind the experiment, comparing it to a private military branch.
- Naomi discovers the ship's communication logs, revealing a history of strict discipline and coded tightbeam messages.
- A final distress call from Captain Higgins describes a 100% casualty rate and an extreme contamination hazard as the crew degenerated.
- The team realizes the ship was sending data to a moving target in the Belt that Naomi cannot identify in any registry.
- A mystery arises regarding how the crew knew where to aim their tightbeam transmissions without any record of incoming coordinates.
Black filament-covered tendrils erupting from their eyes and mouths.
âSeeing what their toy does when you take it out for a spin is my
guess,â Miller said.
They were silent for a long moment. Holden spoke first.
âSo you take a company that seems to be lacking an instit utional
conscience, that has enough government research contracts to almost be a
privately run branch of the military . How far will they go for the holy
grail?â
âFirst, fastest, furthest,â Miller replied.
âYeah.â
âGuys,â Naomi said, âyou should come down here. I think Iâve got
something.â
Chapter Thirty-Five
Holden
âIâve found the comm logs,â Naomi said as Holden and Miller drifted into
the room behind her .
Holden put a hand on her shoulder , pulled it back, and hated that heâd
pulled back. A week earlier sheâd have been fine with a simple gesture of
affection like that, and he wouldnâ t have been afraid of her reaction. He
regretted the new distance betw een them only slightly less than he would
have regretted not saying anything at all. He wanted to tell her that.
Instead, he said, âFind anything good?â
She tapped the screen and pulled up the log.
âThey were hard-core about comm discipline,â she said, pointing at
the long list of dates and times. âNothing ever went out on radio , everything
was tightbeam. And everything was doublespeak, lots of obvious code
phrases.â
Miller âs mouth moved inside his helmet. Holden tapped on his face
shield. Miller rolled his eyes in disgust and then chinned the comm link to
the general channel.
âSorry . Donâ t spend a lot of time in suits,â he said. âWhatâve we got
thatâs good?â
âNot much. But the last comm unication was in plain English,â she
said, then tapped the last line on the list.
THOTH ST ATION
CREW DEGENERA TING. PROJECTING 100% CASUAL TIES. MATERIALS
SECURED. STABILIZING COURSE AND SPEED. VECT OR DATA TO
FOLLOW . EXTREME CONT AMINA TION HAZARD FOR ENTR Y TEAMS.
CPT. HIGGINS
Holden read it several times, imagining Captain Higgins watch ing the
infection spread through his crew , helpless to stop it. His people vomiting
all over in a vacuum-sealed metal box, even one molecule of the substance
on your skin a virtual death sentence. Black filament-covered tendrils
erupting from their eyes and mouths. And then that⌠soup that covered the
reactor . He let himself shudder , grateful that Miller wouldnâ t see it through
the atmosphere suit.
âSo this Higgins fella realizes his crew is turning into vomit zombies
and sends a last message to his bosses, right?â Miller said, breaking into
Holdenâ s reverie. âWhatâ s this stuf f about vector data?â
âHe knew theyâd all be dead, so he was letting his people know how to
catch the ship,â Holden replied.
âBut they didnâ t, because itâs here, because Julie took control and flew
it somewhere else,â Miller said. âWhich means theyâre looking for it,
right?â
Holden ignored that and put his hand back on Naomiâ s shoulder with
what he hoped was companionable casualness.
âWe have tight beam messages and the vector info,â he said. âAre they
all going to the same place?â
âSort of,â she said, nodding with her right hand. âNot the same place,
but all to what appear to be points in the Belt. But based on the changes in
direction and the times they were sent, to one point in the Belt that is
moving around, and not in a stable orbit either .â
âA ship, then?â
Naomi gave another nod.
âProbably ,â she said. âIâve been playing with the locations, and I canât
find anything in the registry that looks likely . No stations or inhabited
rocks. A ship would make sense. Butââ
Holden waited for Naomi to finish, but Miller leaned forward
impatiently .
âBut what?â he said.
âBut how did they know where it would be?â she replied. âI have no
incoming comms in the log. If a ship was moving around randomly in the
Belt, howâd they know where to send these messages?â
Holden squeezed her shoulder , lightly enough that she probably didnâ t
The Ethics of Scuttling
- Naomi discovers that the stealth ship was receiving laser communications from a non-random location, suggesting a hidden station or ship is tracking its movements.
- Miller suspects the communications originate from a nearby laboratory where Protogen is conducting experiments on the Eros infection.
- Holden tasks Naomi with hacking the captain's safe to find information, while strictly forbidding Amos from using explosives to open it due to the risk of releasing alien viruses.
- Amos argues against scuttling the valuable stealth ship, suggesting he could simply chop up the infected crew remains and vent them into space.
- Holden is repulsed by Amos's casual disregard for the horrific scene in the engine room and remains firm on destroying the vessel to prevent further contamination.
The mental image of Amos hacking the melted bodies of the shipâs former crew apart with a plasma torch and then cheerfully hurling the chunks out an airlock tipped Holden over the edge into full-fledged nausea.
Naomi gave another nod.
âProbably ,â she said. âIâve been playing with the locations, and I canât
find anything in the registry that looks likely . No stations or inhabited
rocks. A ship would make sense. Butââ
Holden waited for Naomi to finish, but Miller leaned forward
impatiently .
âBut what?â he said.
âBut how did they know where it would be?â she replied. âI have no
incoming comms in the log. If a ship was moving around randomly in the
Belt, howâd they know where to send these messages?â
Holden squeezed her shoulder , lightly enough that she probably didnâ t
even feel it in the heavy environment suit, then pushed off and allowed
himself to drift toward the ceiling.
âSo itâs not random,â he said. âThey had some sort of map of where
this thing would be at the time they sent the laser comms. Could be one of
their stealth ships.â
Naomi turned around in her chair to look up at him.
âCould be a station,â she said.
âItâs the lab,â Miller broke in. âTheyâre running an experiment on
Eros, they need the white coats nearby .â
âNaomi,â Holde n said. ââMaterials secured.â Thereâ s a safe in the
captainâ s quarters thatâ s still locked down. Think you can get it open?â
Naomi gave a one-handed shrug.
âI donât know ,â she said. âMay be. Amos could probably blast it open
with some of the explosives we found in that big box of weapons.â
Holden laughed.
âWell,â he said. âSince itâs probably full of little vials of nasty alien
viruses, Iâm going to nix the blasting option.â
Naomi shut down the comm log and pulled up a general shipâ s systems
menu.
âI can look around and see if the computer has access to the safe,â she
said. âT ry to open it that way . It might take some time.â
âDo what you can,â Holden said. âW eâll get out of your hair .â
Holden pushed himself of f the ceiling and over to the ops compartment
hatch, then pulled himself through, into the corridor beyond. A few
moments later, Miller followed. The detective planted his feet on the deck
with magnetic boots, then stared at Holden, waiting.
Holden floated down to the deck next to him.
âWhat do you think?â Holden asked. âProtogen being the whole thing?
Or is this another one where it looks like them, so it isnâ t?â
Miller was silent for the space of two long breaths.
âThis one smells like the real thing,â Miller said. He sounded almost
grudging.
Amos pulled himself up the crew ladder from below , dragging a large
metal case behind him.
âHey , Capân,â he said. âI found a whole case of fuel pellets for the
reactor in the machine shop. W eâll probably want to take these with us.â
âGood work,â Holden said, holding up one hand to let Miller know to
wait. âGo ahead and take those across. Also, I need you to work up a plan
for scuttling this ship.â
âWait, what?â Amos said. âThis thing is worth a jillion bucks, Captain.
Stealth missile ship? The OPA would sell their grandmothers for this thing.
And six of those tubes still have fish in them. Capital-ship busters. You
could slag a small moon with those. Forget their grannies, the OPA would
pimp their daughters for that gear . Why the fuck would we blow it up?â
Holden stared at him in disbelief.
âDid you for get whatâ s in the engine room?â he asked.
âHell, Cap,â Amos snorted. âThat shit is all frozen. Couple hours with
a torch and I can chop it up and chuck it out the airlock. Good to go.â
The mental image of Amos hacking the melted bodies of the shipâ s
former crew apart with a plasma torch and then cheerfully hurling the
chunks out an airlock tipped Holden over the edge into full-fledged nausea.
The big mechanicâ s ability just to ignore anything that he didnâ t want to
notice probably came in handy while he was crawling around in tight and
greasy engine compartments. His ability to shrug off the horrible mutilation
of several dozen people threatened to change Holdenâ s disgust into anger .
âForgetting the mess,â he said, âand the very real possibi lity of
Salvage and Stealth
- Amos' indifference to the mutilated bodies on the stealth ship shifts from a useful trait to a source of disgust for Holden.
- The crew realizes they have lingered too long on a high-value target that other hostile parties are likely searching for.
- Amos prepares to scuttle the ship by rigging a torpedo's fusion reactor to go critical, avoiding the damaged main reactor.
- Unable to bypass the safe's magnetic lock, Holden decides to cut the entire section of the bulkhead out to take the safe with them.
The big mechanicâ s ability just to ignore anything that he didnâ t want to notice probably came in handy while he was crawling around in tight and greasy engine compartments.
former crew apart with a plasma torch and then cheerfully hurling the
chunks out an airlock tipped Holden over the edge into full-fledged nausea.
The big mechanicâ s ability just to ignore anything that he didnâ t want to
notice probably came in handy while he was crawling around in tight and
greasy engine compartments. His ability to shrug off the horrible mutilation
of several dozen people threatened to change Holdenâ s disgust into anger .
âForgetting the mess,â he said, âand the very real possibi lity of
infection by what made that mess, there is also the fact that someone is
desperately searching for this very expensive and very stealthy ship, and so
far Alex canâ t find the ship thatâ s looking. â
He stopped talking and nodded at Amos while the mechanic mulled
that over. He could see Amosâ broad face working as he put it together in
his head. Found a stealth ship. Other people looking for stealth ship. We
canât see the other people looking for it.
Shit.
Amosâ face went pale.
âRight,â he said. âIâll set the reactor up to slag her.â He looked down
at the time on his suitâs forearm display . âShit, weâve been here too long.
Better get the lead out.â
âBetter had,â Miller agreed.
Naomi was good . Very good. Holden had discovered this when heâd signed
on with the Canterbury , and over the course of years, heâd added it to his
list of facts, along with space is cold and the direction of gravity is down.
When something stopped working on the water hauler , heâd tell Naomi to
fix it, and then never think of it again. Sometimes sheâd claim not to be able
to fix something, but it was always a negotiating tactic. A short
conversation would lead to a request for spare parts or an additional
crewman hired on at the next port, and that would be that. There was no
problem that involved electronics or spaceship parts she couldnâ t solve.
âI canâ t open the safe,â she said.
She floated next to the safe in the captainâ s quarters, one foot resting
lightly on his bunk to stabilize herself as she gestured. Holden stood on the
floor with his boot mags on. Miller was in the hatchway to the corridor .
âWhat would you need?â Holden asked.
âIf you wonâ t let me blast it or cut it, I canâ t open it.â
Holden shook his head, but Naomi either didnâ t see it or ignored him.
âThe safe is designed to open when a very specific pattern of magnetic
fields is played across that metal plate on the front,â she said. âSomeone has
a key designed to do that, but that key isnâ t on this ship.â
âItâs at that station,â Miller said. âHe wouldnâ t send it there if they
couldnâ t open it.â
Holden stared at the wall safe for a moment, his fingers tapping on the
bulkhead beside it.
âWhatâre the chances cutting it sets of f a booby trap?â he said.
âFucking excellent, Cap,â Amos said. He was listening in from the
torpedo bay as he hacked the small fusion reactor that powered one of the
six rema ining torpedoes to go critical. Working on the shipâ s main reactor
was too dangerous with the shielding stripped of f.
âNaomi, I really want that safe and the research notes and samples it
contains,â Holden said.
âYou donât know thatâs whatâ s in there,â Miller said, then laughed.
âNo, of course thatâs whatâ s in there. But it wonâ t help us if we get blown
up or, worse, if some piece of goo-coated shrapnel makes a hole in our nice
suits.â
âIâm taking it,â Holden replied, then pulled a piece of chalk from his
suitâs pocket and drew a line around the safe on the bulkhead. âNaomi, cut a
small hole in the bulkhead and see if thereâ s anything that would stop us
from just cutting the whole damned thing out and taking it with us.â
âWeâd have to take out half the wall.â
âOkay .â
Naomi frowned, then shrugged, then smiled and nodded with one
The Weight of Choice
- Holden and his crew successfully salvage a mysterious, heavily reinforced safe from a derelict stealth ship by cutting out a section of the bulkhead.
- The crew debates the potential value of the safe's contents, weighing options between selling to Mars for wealth or honoring their agreement with Fred Johnson and the OPA.
- Amos successfully triggers a makeshift demolition using a torpedo's fusion reactor to scuttle the remaining evidence of the ship.
- Miller's obsessive behavior and constant re-watching of Julie Mao's struggle create a sense of unease and tension among the crew.
- Holden reflects on the gravity of their find, viewing the imposing black safe as a container that might hold the fate of the entire solar system.
The kind of container in which one kept the end of the solar system.
torpedo bay as he hacked the small fusion reactor that powered one of the
six rema ining torpedoes to go critical. Working on the shipâ s main reactor
was too dangerous with the shielding stripped of f.
âNaomi, I really want that safe and the research notes and samples it
contains,â Holden said.
âYou donât know thatâs whatâ s in there,â Miller said, then laughed.
âNo, of course thatâs whatâ s in there. But it wonâ t help us if we get blown
up or, worse, if some piece of goo-coated shrapnel makes a hole in our nice
suits.â
âIâm taking it,â Holden replied, then pulled a piece of chalk from his
suitâs pocket and drew a line around the safe on the bulkhead. âNaomi, cut a
small hole in the bulkhead and see if thereâ s anything that would stop us
from just cutting the whole damned thing out and taking it with us.â
âWeâd have to take out half the wall.â
âOkay .â
Naomi frowned, then shrugged, then smiled and nodded with one
hand.
âAll right, then,â she said. âThinking of taking it to Fredâ s people?â
Miller laughed again, a dry humorless rasp that made Holden uneasy .
The detective had been watching the video of Julie Maoâ s fight with her
captors over and over again while theyâd waited on Naomi and Amos to
finish their work. It gave Hold en the disquieting feeling that Miller was
storing the footage in his head. Fuel for something he planned to do later .
âMars would give you your lives back in exchange for this,â Miller
said. âI hear Mars is nice if youâre rich.â
âFuck rich,â Amos said with a grunt as he worked on something
below . âTheyâd build statues of us.â
âWe have an agreement with Fred to let him outbid any other contracts
we take,â Holden said. âOf course, this isnâ t really a contract per seâŚâ
Naomi smiled and winked at Holden.
âSo what is it, sir?â she said, her voice faintly mocking. âOPA heroes?
Martian billionaires? Start your own biotech firm? What are we doing
here?â
Holden pushed away from the safe and kicked out toward the airlock
and the cutting torch that waited there with their other tools.
âI donât know yet,â he said. âBut it sure feels nice to have choices
again.â
Amos pushed the button again. No new stars flared in the dark. The
radiation and infrared sensors remained quiet.
âThereâ s supposed to be an explosion, right?â Holden asked.
âFuck, yes,â Amos said, then pushed the button on the black box in his
hand a third time. âThis isnât an exact science or anything. Those missile
drives are as simple as it gets. Just a reactor with one wall missing. Canâ t
exactly predictâŚâ
âIt isnâ t rocket science,â Holden said with a laugh.
âWhat?â Amos asked, ready to be angry if he was being mocked.
âYou know , âit isnât rocket science,ââ Holden said. âLike âit isnât hard.â
Youâre a rocket scientist, Amos. For real. You work on fusion reactors and
starship drives for a living. Couple hundred years ago, people would have
been lining up to give you their children for what you know .â
âWhat the fuââ Amos started, but stopped when a new sun flared
outside the cockpit window , then faded quickly . âSee? Fucking told you it
would work.â
âNever doubted it,â Holden said, then slapped Amos on one meaty
shoulder and headed aft down the crew ladder .
âWhat the fuck was that about?â Amos asked no one in particular as
Holden drifted away .
He headed through the ops deck. Naomiâ s chair was empty . Heâd
ordered her to get some sleep. Strapped down to loops inset in the deck was
the stealth shipâ s safe. It looked bigger cut out of the wall. Black and
imposingly solid. The kind of container in which one kept the end of the
solar system.
Holden floated over to it and quietly said, âOpen sesame.â
The safe ignored him, but the deck hatch opened and Miller pulled
himself up into the compartmen t. His environment suit had been traded in
for a stale-smelling blue jump suit and his ever-present hat. There was
The Spark of War
- Holden confronts the physical presence of the stealth ship's safe, which he views as a container for the end of the solar system.
- Miller confronts Holden with news of the escalating conflict between Earth and Mars, criticizing Holden's uncompromising idealism.
- Video feeds reveal that Earth ships have opened fire on Martian counterparts, resulting in the destruction of the Deimos deep radar station.
- The outbreak of open warfare serves as a massive distraction, potentially allowing the perpetrators of the Eros incident to operate unobserved.
- Holden is forced to grapple with the direct consequences of his decision to broadcast sensitive data, which served as the catalyst for the violence.
Holden sat and watched the video display the end of the solar system in vivid color and with expert commentary.
shoulder and headed aft down the crew ladder .
âWhat the fuck was that about?â Amos asked no one in particular as
Holden drifted away .
He headed through the ops deck. Naomiâ s chair was empty . Heâd
ordered her to get some sleep. Strapped down to loops inset in the deck was
the stealth shipâ s safe. It looked bigger cut out of the wall. Black and
imposingly solid. The kind of container in which one kept the end of the
solar system.
Holden floated over to it and quietly said, âOpen sesame.â
The safe ignored him, but the deck hatch opened and Miller pulled
himself up into the compartmen t. His environment suit had been traded in
for a stale-smelling blue jump suit and his ever-present hat. There was
something about the look on his face that made Holden uncomfortable.
Even more so than the detective usually made him.
âHey ,â Holden said.
Miller just nodded and pulled himself over to one of the workst ations,
then buckled in to one of the chairs.
âWe decided on a destination yet?â he asked.
âNo. Iâm having Alex run the numbers on a couple of possibilities, but
I havenâ t made up my mind.â
âBeen watching the news at all?â the detective asked.
Holden shook his head, then moved over to a chair on the other side of
the compartment. Something in Miller âs face was chilling his blood.
âNo,â he said. âWhat happened?â
âYou donâ t hedge, Holden. I admire that about you, I guess.â
âJust tell me,â Holden said.
âNo, I mean it. A lot of people claim to believe in things. âFamily is
most important,â but theyâll screw a fifty-dollar hooker on payday . âCountry
first,â but they cheat on their taxes. Not you, though. You say everyone
should know everything, and by God, you put your money where your
mouth is.â
Miller waited for him to say something, but Holden didnâ t know what.
This speech had the feel of something the detective had prepared ahead of
time. Might as well let him finish it.
âSo Mars finds out that maybe Earthâ s been building ships on the side,
ones with no flag on them. Some of them might have killed a Martian
flagship. I bet Mars calls up to check. I mean, itâs the Earth-Ma rs Coalition
Navy , one big happy hegemony . Been policing the solar system together for
almost a hundred years. Commanding officers are practically sleeping
together . So it must be a mistake, right?â
âOkay ,â Holden said, waiting.
âSo Mars calls,â Miller said. âI mean, I donât know for sure, but I bet
thatâs how it starts. A call from some bigwig on Mars to some bigwig on
Earth.â
âSeems reasonable,â Holden said.
âWhat dâyou think Earth says back?â
âI donâ t know .â
Miller reached over and flipped on one of the screens, then pulle d up a
file with his name on it, date stamped from less than an hour before. A
recording of video from a Martian news source, showing the night sky
through a Martian dome. Streak s and flashes fill the sky. The ticker across
the bottom of the feed says that Earth ships in orbit around Mars suddenly
and without warning fired on their Martian counterparts. The streaks in the
sky are missiles. The flashes are ships dying.
And then a massive white flare turns the Martian night into day for a
few seconds, and the crawl says that the Deimos deep radar station has been
destroyed.
Holden sat and watched the video display the end of the solar system
in vivid color and with expert commentary . He kept waiting for the streaks
of light to begin descending on the planet itself, for the domes to fly apart in
nuclear fire, but it seemed someone had kept some measure of restraint, and
the battle remained in the sky .
It couldnâ t stay that way forever .
âYouâre telling me that I did this,â Holden said. âThat if I hadnâ t
broadcast that data, those ships would still be alive. Those people.â
âThat, yeah. And that if the bad guys wanted to keep people from
watching Eros, it just worked.â
Chapter Thirty-Six
Miller
The war stories flowed in. Miller watched the feeds five at a time,
The First Apocalypse
- Holden grapples with the devastating consequences of his data broadcast as he watches the Martian moon Deimos being destroyed.
- The conflict between Earth and Mars escalates into a massive orbital battle, though both sides show a fragile restraint by avoiding direct planetary bombardment.
- Miller monitors the chaos through multiple newsfeeds, observing the shift from a hot war to a tense blockade as Martian forces retreat to defend their home.
- Despite the carnage in space, a grim sense of relief persists among the crew because the planetary biospheres of Earth and Mars remain intact for now.
âWhat kind of half-assed apocalypse are they running down there?â Amos said. âGive âem a break. Itâ s their first.â
sky are missiles. The flashes are ships dying.
And then a massive white flare turns the Martian night into day for a
few seconds, and the crawl says that the Deimos deep radar station has been
destroyed.
Holden sat and watched the video display the end of the solar system
in vivid color and with expert commentary . He kept waiting for the streaks
of light to begin descending on the planet itself, for the domes to fly apart in
nuclear fire, but it seemed someone had kept some measure of restraint, and
the battle remained in the sky .
It couldnâ t stay that way forever .
âYouâre telling me that I did this,â Holden said. âThat if I hadnâ t
broadcast that data, those ships would still be alive. Those people.â
âThat, yeah. And that if the bad guys wanted to keep people from
watching Eros, it just worked.â
Chapter Thirty-Six
Miller
The war stories flowed in. Miller watched the feeds five at a time,
subscreens crowding the face of his terminal. Mars was shocked, amazed,
reeling. The war between Mars and the Beltâthe biggest, most dangerous
conflict in the history of mankin dâwas suddenly a sideshow . The reactions
of the talking heads of Earth security forces ran the gamut from calm,
rational discussion of preem ptive defense to foaming-a t-the-mouth
denunciations of Mars as a pack of baby-raping animals. The attack on
Deimos had turned the moon into a slowly spreading ring of gravel in the
moonâ s old orbit, a smudge on the Martian sky, and with that, the game had
changed again.
Miller watched for ten hours as the attack became the blockade. The
Martian navy , spread throughou t the system, was turning home under heavy
burn. The OPA feeds were calling it a victory , and maybe someone thought
that was true. The pictures came through from the ships, from the sensor
arrays. Dead warships, their sides ripped open by high-ener gy explosions,
spinning out into their irregular orbital graves. Medical bays like the Rociâs
filled with boys and girls half his age bleeding, burning, dying. Each cycle,
new footage came in, new details of death and carnage. And each time
some new clip appeared, he sat forward, hand on his mouth, waiting for the
word to come. The one event that would signal the end of it all.
But it hadnâ t come yet, and every hour that didnâ t bring it gave another
sliver of hope that maybe, maybe it wasnâ t going to happen.
âHey ,â Amos said. âY ou slept at all?â
Miller looked up, his neck stiff. Red creases of his pillow still on his
cheek and forehead, the mecha nic stood in the open doorway of Miller âs
cabin.
âWhat?â Miller said. Then: âY eah, no. Iâve been⌠watching.â
âAnyone drop a rock?â
âNot yet. Itâ s all still orbital or higher .â
âWhat kind of half-assed apocalypse are they running down there?â
Amos said.
âGive âem a break. Itâ s their first.â
The mechanic shook his broad head, but Miller could see the relief
under the feigned disgust. As long as the domes were still standing on Mars,
as long as the critical biosphere of Earth wasnâ t in direct threat, humanity
wasnâ t dead. Miller had to wonder what they were hoping for out in the
Belt, whether theyâd managed to talk themselves into believing that the
rough ecological pockets of the asteroids would sustain life indefinitely .
âYou want a beer?â Amos asked.
âYouâre having beer for breakfast?â
âFigure itâ s dinner for you,â Amos said.
The man was right. Miller needed sleep. He hadnâ t managed more than
a catnap since theyâd scuttled the stealth ship, and that had been plagued by
strange dreams. He yawned at the thought of yawning, but the tension in his
gut said he was more likely to spend the day watching newsfeeds than
resting.
âItâs probably breakfast again,â Miller said.
âWant some beer for breakfast?â Amos asked.
âSure.â
Walking through the Rocinante felt surreal. The quiet hum of the air
A Cold Moral Standoff
- Miller struggles to adjust to the surreal safety and quiet of the Rocinante after the traumatic events on Eros.
- While undergoing medical treatment for radiation, Holden and Miller discuss the escalating war between Earth and Mars.
- Holden proposes broadcasting the Protogen datafiles to the entire solar system to level the playing field and stop the fighting.
- Miller flatly refuses to allow the broadcast, threatening Holden and challenging his naive approach to interstellar politics.
True, but you have a hard time shooting people, and you are going to have to shoot me before you send that thing out.
âFigure itâ s dinner for you,â Amos said.
The man was right. Miller needed sleep. He hadnâ t managed more than
a catnap since theyâd scuttled the stealth ship, and that had been plagued by
strange dreams. He yawned at the thought of yawning, but the tension in his
gut said he was more likely to spend the day watching newsfeeds than
resting.
âItâs probably breakfast again,â Miller said.
âWant some beer for breakfast?â Amos asked.
âSure.â
Walking through the Rocinante felt surreal. The quiet hum of the air
recyclers, the softness of the air. The journey out to Julieâ s ship was a haze
of pain medication and sickne ss. The time on Eros before that was a
nightmare that wouldnâ t fade. To walk through the spare, functional
corridors, thrust gravity holding him gently to the floor , with very little
chance of anyon e trying to kill him felt suspicious. When he imagined Julie
walking with him, it wasnâ t so bad.
As he ate, his terminal chimed , the automatic reminder for another
blood flush. He stood, adjusted his hat, and headed off to let the needles and
pressure injector s do their worst . The captain was already there and hooked
into a station when Miller arrived.
Holden looked like heâd slept, but not well. There werenâ t the bruise-
dark marks under his eyes that Miller had, but his shoulders were tense, his
brow on the edge of furrowed. Miller wondered whether heâd been a little
too hard on the guy. I told you so could be an important message, but the
burden of innocent death, of the chaos of a failing civilization might also be
too much for one man to carry .
Or maybe he was still mooning over Naomi.
Holden raised the hand that wasnâ t encased in medical equipment.
âMorning,â Miller said.
âHey .â
âDecided where weâre going yet?â
âNot yet.â
âGetting harder and harder to get to Mars,â Miller said, easing himself
into the familiar embrace of the medical station. âIf thatâs what youâre
aiming for , youâd better do it soon.â
âWhile thereâ s still a Mars, you mean?â
âFor instance,â Miller agreed.
The needles snaked out on gently articulated armatures. Miller looked
at the ceiling, trying not to tense up as the lines forced their way into his
veins. There was a momentâ s stinging, then a low, dull ache, and then
numbness. The display above him announced the state of his body to
doctors who were watching young soldiers die miles above Olympus Mons.
âDo you think theyâd stop?â Holden asked. âI mean, Earth has got to
be doing this because Protog en owns some generals or senators or
something, right? Itâs all because they want to be the only ones who have
this thing. If Mars has it too, Protogen doesnâ t have a reason to fight.â
Miller blinked. Before he could pick his answerâ Theyâd try to
annihilate Mars completely , or Itâs gone too far for that, or Exactly how
naive ar e you, Captain? âHolden went on.
âScrew it. W eâve got the datafiles. Iâm going to broadcast them.â
Miller âs reply was as easy as reflex.
âNo, you arenâ t.â
Holden propped himself up, storm clouds in his expression.
âI appreciate that you might have a reasonable difference of opinion,â
he said, âbut this is still my ship. Y ouâre a passenger .â
âTrue,â Miller said. âBut you have a hard time shooting peop le, and
you are going to have to shoot me before you send that thing out.â
âIâm what? â
The new blood flowed into Miller âs system like a tickle of ice water
crawling toward his heart. The medical monitors shifted to a new pattern,
counting up the anomalous cells as they hit its filters.
âYou are going to have to shoot me,â Miller said, slowly this time.
âTwice now youâve had the choice of whether or not to break the solar
system, and both times youâve screwed it up. I donât want to see you strike
out.â
âI think you may have an exagg erated idea of how much influe nce the
second-in-command of a long-distance water hauler actually has. Yes,
thereâ s a war. And yes, I was there when it started up. But the Belt has hated
The Burden of Information
- Holden and Miller debate the ethics of transparency versus controlled information during a medical blood flush procedure.
- Holden argues that the current interplanetary war is the result of imperfect information and engineered deception.
- Miller counters with a story from his police work on Ceres, illustrating how raw data can lead to vigilante justice and wrong conclusions.
- Holden compares Miller's desire to gatekeep information to the secretive ethos of Protogen, the very corporation they are fighting.
- The conversation highlights a fundamental ideological rift: Holden believes in universal truth, while Miller believes in managing consequences.
âNot my powder keg; I just brought the matchâ?
crawling toward his heart. The medical monitors shifted to a new pattern,
counting up the anomalous cells as they hit its filters.
âYou are going to have to shoot me,â Miller said, slowly this time.
âTwice now youâve had the choice of whether or not to break the solar
system, and both times youâve screwed it up. I donât want to see you strike
out.â
âI think you may have an exagg erated idea of how much influe nce the
second-in-command of a long-distance water hauler actually has. Yes,
thereâ s a war. And yes, I was there when it started up. But the Belt has hated
the inner planets since a long time before the Cant was attacked.â
âYouâve got the inner planets divided up too,â Miller said.
Holden tilted his head.
âEarth has always hated Mars,â Holden said like he was reporting that
water was wet. âWhen I was in the navy , we ran projections for this. Battle
plans if Earth and Mars ever really got into it. Earth loses. Unless they hit
first, hit hard, and donâ t let up, Earth just plain loses.â
Maybe it was distance. Maybe it was a failure of imagination. Miller
had never seen the inner planets as divided.
âSeriously?â he asked.
âTheyâre the colony , but they have all the best toys and everyone
knows it,â Holden said. âEverything thatâs happening out there right now
has been building up for a hundred years. If it hadnâ t been there to start
with, this couldnâ t have happened.â
âThatâ s your defense? âNot my powder keg; I just broug ht the
matchâ?â
âIâm not making a defense,â Holden said. His blood pressure and heart
rate were spiking.
âWeâve been through this,â Miller said. âSo let me just ask, why is it
you think this time will be dif ferent?â
The needles in Miller âs arm seemed to heat up almost to the point of
being painful. He wondered if that was normal, if every blood flush he had
was going to feel the same way .
âThis time is different,â Holden said. âAll the crap thatâs going on out
there is what happens when you have imperfect information. Mars and the
Belt wouldnâ t have been going after each other in the first place if theyâd
known what we know now . Earth and Mars wouldnâ t be shooting each other
if everyone knew the fight was being engineered. The problem isnât that
people know too much, itâ s that they donâ t know enough.â
Something hissed and Miller felt a wave of chemical relaxation swim
through him. He resented it, but there was no calling the drugs back.
âYou canât just throw information at people,â Miller said. âYou have to
know what it means. What itâ s going to do. There was a case back on Ceres.
Little girl got killed. For the first eighteen hours, we were all sure Daddy
did it. He was a felon. A drunk. He was the last one who saw her breathing.
All the classic signs. Hour ninet een, we get a tip. Turned out Daddy owed a
lot of money to one of the local syndicates. All of a sudden, things are more
complicated. We have more suspects. Do you think if Iâd been broadcasting
everything I knew , Daddy woul d still have been alive when the tip came?
Or would someone have put it all together and done the obvious thing?â
Miller âs medica l station chimed. Another new cancer . He ignored it.
Holdenâ s cycle was just finishing, the redness of his cheeks speaking as
much to the fresh, healthy blood in his body as to his emotional state.
âThatâ s the same ethos they have,â Holden said.
âWho?â
âProtogen. You may be on different sides, but youâre playing the same
game. If everyone said what they knew , none of this would have happened.
If the first lab tech on Phoebe who saw something weird had gotten on his
system and said, âHey , everyone! Look, this is weird,â none of this would
have happened.â
âYeah,â Miller said, âbecause telling everyone thereâ s an alien virus
that wants to kill them all is a great way to maintain calm and order .â
âMiller ,â Holden said. âI donât mean to panic you, but thereâ s an alien
virus. And it wants to kill everyone.â
A Plateful of Less Wrong
- Holden and Miller debate the ethics of information transparency versus the pragmatic consequences of revealing the existence of the alien virus.
- Miller challenges Holden's idealism, arguing that broadcasting the truth will not stop the war but merely change its focus to a race for biological weapons.
- The conversation highlights the lack of a 'right' choice, with Miller suggesting that every available option is simply a different degree of wrong.
- Miller advises Holden to move away from abstract principles and instead ground his decisions in the perspective of someone he trusts, like Naomi.
- The dialogue concludes with the grim reality of the ongoing conflict as the OPA reports the execution of alleged Martian spies.
Miller watched a little piece of the manâs idealism die and was sorry that it gave him joy.
âProtogen. You may be on different sides, but youâre playing the same
game. If everyone said what they knew , none of this would have happened.
If the first lab tech on Phoebe who saw something weird had gotten on his
system and said, âHey , everyone! Look, this is weird,â none of this would
have happened.â
âYeah,â Miller said, âbecause telling everyone thereâ s an alien virus
that wants to kill them all is a great way to maintain calm and order .â
âMiller ,â Holden said. âI donât mean to panic you, but thereâ s an alien
virus. And it wants to kill everyone.â
Miller shook his head and smiled like Holden had said something
funny . âSo look, maybe I canât point a gun at you and make you do the right
thing. But lemme ask you something. Okay?â
âFine,â Holden said. Miller leaned back. The drugs were making his
eyelids heavy .
âWhat happens?â Miller said.
There was a long pause. Another chime from the medical system.
Another rush of cold through Miller âs abused veins.
âWhat happens? â Holden repeated. It occurred to Miller he could have
been more specific. He forced his eyes open again.
âYou broadcast everything weâve got. What happens?â
âThe war stops. People go after Protogen.â
âThereâ s some holes in that, but let it go. What happens after that?â
Holden was quiet for a few heartbeats.
âPeople start going after the Phoebe bug,â he said.
âThey start experimenting. They start fighting for it. If that little
bastardâ s as valuable as Protogen thinks, you canât stop the war. All you can
do now is change it.â
Holden frowned, angry lines at the corners of his mouth and eyes.
Miller watched a little piece of the manâ s idealism die and was sorry that it
gave him joy .
âSo what happens if we get to Mars?â Miller went on, his voice low.
âWe trade out the protomolecul e for more money than any of us have ever
seen. Or maybe they just shoot you. Mars just wins against Earth. And the
Belt. Or you go to the OPA, who are the best hope the Belt has of
independence, and theyâre a bunch of crazy zealots, half of âem thinking we
can actually sustain out there without Earth. And trust me, theyâll probably
shoot you too. Or you just tell everyone everything and pretend that
however it comes down, you kept your hands clean.â
âThereâ s a right thing to do,â Holden said.
âYou donât have a right thing , friend,â Miller said. âYouâve got a
whole plateful of maybe a little less wrong.â
Holdenâ s blood flush finished. The captain pulled the needles out of
his arm and let the thin metall ic tentacles retract. As he rolled down his
sleeve, the frown softened.
âPeople have a right to know whatâ s going on,â Holden said. âYour
argument boils down to you not thinking people are smart enough to figure
out the right way to use it.â
âHas anyone used anything youâve broadcast as something besides an
excuse to shoot someone they already didnâ t like? Giving them a new
reason wonâ t stop them killing each other ,â Miller said. âYou started these
wars, Captain. Doesnâ t mean you can stop them. But you have to try .â
âAnd how am I supposed to do that?â Holden said. The distress in his
voice could have been anger . It could have been prayer .
Something in Miller âs belly shifted, some inflamed organ calming
enough to slip back into place. He hadnâ t been aware heâd felt wrong until
he suddenly felt right again.
âYou ask yourself what happens, â Miller said. âAsk yourself what
Naomiâd do.â
Holden barked out a laugh. âIs that how you make your decisions?â
Miller let his eyes close. Juliette Mao was there, sitting on the couch at
her old apartment on Ceres. Fighting the crew of the stealth ship to a
standstill. Burst open by the alien virus on the floor of her shower stall.
âSomething like it,â Miller said.
The report from Ceres, a break from the usual competing press releases,
came that night. The governing council of the OPA announced that a ring of
Martian spies had been rooted out. The video feed showed the bodies
The Burden of the Grail
- The OPA on Ceres begins a violent purge of suspected Martian spies, signaling a descent into political pogroms and uncompromising brutality.
- Holden decides to divert the Rocinante to Tycho Station, choosing to trust Fred Johnson over other political factions with the dangerous Protogen data.
- Miller suggests that the only truly moral action would be to destroy the evidence and the alien virus entirely, though he acknowledges the impossibility of discarding such power.
- The crew shares a rare moment of domestic normalcy in the galley, preparing a meal together while under the pressure of high-acceleration travel.
Cut off just a hundred more heads, just a thousand more heads, just ten thousand more heads, and then weâll be free.
Holden barked out a laugh. âIs that how you make your decisions?â
Miller let his eyes close. Juliette Mao was there, sitting on the couch at
her old apartment on Ceres. Fighting the crew of the stealth ship to a
standstill. Burst open by the alien virus on the floor of her shower stall.
âSomething like it,â Miller said.
The report from Ceres, a break from the usual competing press releases,
came that night. The governing council of the OPA announced that a ring of
Martian spies had been rooted out. The video feed showed the bodies
floating out an industrial airlock in what looked like the old docks in sector
six. At a distanc e, the victims seemed almost peaceful. The feed cut to the
head of security . Captain Shaddid looked older . Harder .
âWe regret the necessity of this action,â she said to everyone
everywhere. âBut in the cause of freedom, there can be no compromise.â
Thatâ s what itâs come to, Miller thought, rubbing a hand across his
chin. Pogr oms after all. Cut off just a hundr ed more heads, just a thousand
more heads, just ten thousand mor e heads, and then weâll be fr ee.
A soft alert soun ded, and a mom ent later, gravity shifted a few degrees
to Miller âs left. Course change. Holden had made a decision.
He found the captain sitting alone and staring at a monitor in ops. The
glow lit his face from below , casting shadows up into his eyes. The captain
looked older too.
âYou make the broadcast?â Miller asked.
âNope. Weâre just one ship. We tell everyone what this thing is and
that weâve got it, weâll be dead before Protogen.â
âProbably true,â Miller said, sitting at an empty station with a grunt.
The gimbaled seat shifted silently . âWeâre going someplace.â
âI donât trust them with it,â Holden said. âI donât trust any of them
with that safe.â
âProbably smart.â
âIâm going to T ycho Station. Thereâ s someone there I⌠trust.â
âTrust?â
âDonâ t actively distrust.â
âNaomi think itâ s the right thing?â
âI donâ t know . I didnâ t ask her . But I think so.â
âClose enough,â Miller said.
Holden looked up from the monitor for the first time.
âYou know the right thing?â Holden said.
âYeah.â
âWhat is it?â
âThrow that safe into a long collision course with the sun and find a
way to make sure no one ever, ever goes to Eros or Phoebe again,â Miller
said. âPretend none of this ever happened.â
âSo why arenâ t we doing that?â
Miller nodded slowly . âHow do you throw away the holy grail?â
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Holden
Alex had the Rocinante running at three -quarters of a g for two hours while
the crew prepared and ate dinner . He would run it back up to three when the
break was over, but in the meantime, Holden enjoyed standing on his own
two legs at something not too far of f from Earth gravity . It was a little heavy
for Naomi and Miller , but neither of them complained. They both
understood the need for haste.
Once the gravity had dropped from the crush of high acceleration, the
whole crew quietly gathered in the galley and started making dinner . Naomi
blended together fake eggs and fake cheese. Amos cooked toma to paste and
the last of their fresh mushrooms into a red sauce that actually smelled like
the real thing. Alex, who had the duty watch, had forwarded ship ops down
to a panel in the galley and sat at a table next to it, spreading the fake
cheese paste and red sauce onto flat noodles in hopes that the end result
would approxim ate lasagna. Holden had oven duty and had spent the
lasagna prep time baking frozen lumps of dough into bread. The smell in
the galley was not entirely unlike actual food.
Miller had followed the crew into the galley but seemed uncomfortable
A Moment of Domesticity
- The crew of the Rocinante gathers in the galley to prepare a communal meal of synthetic lasagna and bread, finding a rare moment of peace.
- Holden experiences a complex mix of jealousy and gratitude as he watches Naomi interact warmly with Alex and the rest of the crew.
- The group intentionally avoids news of the ongoing war, choosing instead to focus on shared stories and companionable silence.
- Miller breaks his usual stoicism by sharing an improbable and humorous story about a black market cheese operation, easing the group's tension.
- Despite the levity, Holden remains haunted by the potential destruction of his family home and Miller's perceived judgment of his failures.
Even Miller got into the mood and told a long and increasingly improbable story about hunting down a black market cheese operation that ended in a gunfight with nine naked Australians in an illegal brothel.
whole crew quietly gathered in the galley and started making dinner . Naomi
blended together fake eggs and fake cheese. Amos cooked toma to paste and
the last of their fresh mushrooms into a red sauce that actually smelled like
the real thing. Alex, who had the duty watch, had forwarded ship ops down
to a panel in the galley and sat at a table next to it, spreading the fake
cheese paste and red sauce onto flat noodles in hopes that the end result
would approxim ate lasagna. Holden had oven duty and had spent the
lasagna prep time baking frozen lumps of dough into bread. The smell in
the galley was not entirely unlike actual food.
Miller had followed the crew into the galley but seemed uncomfortable
asking for something to do. Instead, he set the table and then sat down at it
and watched. He wasnâ t exact ly avoiding Holdenâ s eyes, but he wasnâ t
going out of his way to catch his attention. By unspoken mutual agreement,
no one had any of the news channels on. Holden was sure everyone would
rush back to check the current state of the war as soon as dinner was over,
but for now they all worked in companionable silence.
When the prep was done, Holden switched off bread duty and on to
moving lasagna-filled cookware into and out of the oven. Naomi sat down
next to Alex and began a quiet conversation with him about something
sheâd seen on the ops screen. Holden split his time between watching her
and watching the lasagna. She laughed at something Alex said and
unconsciously twisted one finger into her hair. Holden felt his belly tighten
a notch.
Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw Miller staring at him.
When he looked, the detective had turned away , a hint of a smile on his
face. Naomi laughed again. She had one hand on Alexâ s arm, and the pilot
was blushing and talking as fast as his silly Martian drawl would let him.
They looked like friends. That both made Holden happy and filled him with
jealousy . He wondered if Naomi would ever be his friend again.
She caught him looking and gave him a conspiratorial wink that
probably would have made a lot of sense if heâd been able to hear what
Alex was saying. He smiled and winked back, grateful just to be included in
the mom ent. A sizzling sound from inside the oven called his attention
back. The lasagna was beginning to bubble and run over the sides of the
dishes.
He pulled on his oven mitts and opened the door .
âSoupâ s on,â he said, pulling the first of the dishes and putting it on the
table.
âThatâ s mighty ugly-looking soup,â Amos said.
âUh, yeah,â Holden said. âItâs just something Mother Tamara used to
say when sheâd finished cooking. Not sure where it comes from.â
âOne of your three mothers did the cooking? How traditional,â Naomi
said with a smirk.
âWell, she split it pretty evenly with Caesar , one of my fathers.â
Naomi smiled at him, a genuine smile now .
âIt sounds really nice,â she said. âBig family like that.â
âYeah, it really was,â he replied, a vision in his head of nuclear fire
tearing apart the Montana farmhouse heâd grown up in, his family blowing
into ash. If it happened, he was sure Miller would be there to let him know
it was his fault. He wasnâ t sure heâd be able to ar gue anymore.
As they ate, Holden felt a slow release of tension in the room. Amos
belched loudly , then reacted to the chorus of protests by doing it again even
more loudly. Alex retold the joke that had made Naomi laugh. Even Miller
got into the mood and told a long and increasingly improbable story about
hunting down a black market cheese operation that ended in a gunfight with
nine naked Australians in an illegal brothel. By the finish of the story ,
Naomi was laughing so hard sheâd drooled on her shirt, and Amos kept
repeating âNo fucking way!â like a mantra.
The story was amusing enough, and the detectiveâ s dry delivery suited
Cheese and Cultural Divides
- The crew of the Rocinante shares a rare moment of levity and bonding over a meal, momentarily forgetting the looming threat of interplanetary war.
- Miller recounts a humorous and absurd story about a black market cheese operation on Ceres that ended in a gunfight with naked Australians.
- The conversation shifts to the high value of Earth-made goods like real cheese, highlighting the economic disparities between the inner planets and the Belt.
- Naomi explains that the fundamental physiological and environmental differences between Belters and 'Inners' lead to a lack of empathy that allows for atrocities like Eros.
- Holden reflects on the diverse origins of his crew, realizing that their shared humanity is what he is ultimately fighting to preserve.
No one who grew up with free air ever will. And thatâs why they can kill a million and a half of us to figure out what their bug really does.
into ash. If it happened, he was sure Miller would be there to let him know
it was his fault. He wasnâ t sure heâd be able to ar gue anymore.
As they ate, Holden felt a slow release of tension in the room. Amos
belched loudly , then reacted to the chorus of protests by doing it again even
more loudly. Alex retold the joke that had made Naomi laugh. Even Miller
got into the mood and told a long and increasingly improbable story about
hunting down a black market cheese operation that ended in a gunfight with
nine naked Australians in an illegal brothel. By the finish of the story ,
Naomi was laughing so hard sheâd drooled on her shirt, and Amos kept
repeating âNo fucking way!â like a mantra.
The story was amusing enough, and the detectiveâ s dry delivery suited
it well, but Hold en only half listened. He watched his crew , saw the tension
falling from their faces and shoulders. He and Amos were both from Earth,
though if he had to guess, heâd say Amos had forgotten about his home
world the first time heâd shipped out. Alex was from Mars and clearly still
loved it. One bad mistake on either side and both planets might be
radioactive rubble by the end of dinner . But right now they were just friends
having a meal together . It was right. It was what Holden had to keep
fighting for .
âI actua lly remember that cheese shortage,â Naomi said once Miller
had stopped talking. âBelt-wide. That was your fault?â
âYeah, well, if theyâd only been sneaking cheese past the gove rnment
auditors, we wouldnâ t have had a problem,â Miller said. âBut they had this
habit of shootin g the other cheese smugglers. Makes the cops notice. Bad
business.â
âOver fucking cheese? â Amos said, tossing his fork onto his plate with
a clack. âAre you serious? I mean, drugs or gambling or something. But
cheese?â
âGamblingâ s legal, most places,â Miller said. âAnd a chemistry class
dropout can cook up just about any drug you like in his bathroom. No way
to control supply .â
âReal cheese comes from Earth , or Mars,â Naomi added. âAnd after
they tack on shipping costs and the Coalitionâ s fifty percent in taxes, it costs
more than fuel pellets.â
âWe wound up with one hundred and thirty kilos of Vermont Cheddar
in the evidence lockup,â Miller said. âStreet value that would have probably
bought someone their own ship. It had disappeared by the end of the day.
We wrote it up as lost to spoilage. No one said a word, as long as everyone
went home with a brick.â
The detective leaned back in his chair with a distant look on his face.
âMy God, that was good cheese,â he said with a smile.
âYeah, well, this fake stuff does taste like shit,â Amos said, then added
in a hurry , âNo offense, Boss, you did a real good job whipping it up. But
thatâs still weird to me, fighting over cheese.â
âItâs why they killed Eros,â Naomi said.
Miller nodded but said nothing.
âHow do you figure that?â Amos said.
âHow long have you been flying?â Naomi asked.
âI dunno ,â Amos replied, his lips compressing as he did the mental
math. âT wenty-five years, maybe?â
âFly with a lot of Belters, right?â
âYeah,â Amos said. âCanâ t get better shipmates than Belters. âCept
me, of course.â
âYouâve flown with us for twenty-five years, you like us, youâve
learned the patois. I bet you can order a beer and a hooker on any station in
the Belt. Heck, if you were a little taller and a lot skinnier , you could pass
for one of us by now .â
Amos smiled, taking it as a compliment.
âBut you still donât get us,â Naomi said. âNot really . No one who grew
up with free air ever will. And thatâs why they can kill a million and a half
of us to figure out what their bug really does.â
âHey now,â Alex interjected. âYou serious âbout that? You think the
inners and outers see themselves as that dif ferent?â
âOf course they do,â Miller said. âWeâre too tall, too skinny , our heads
look too big, and our joints too knobby .â
Holden noticed Naomi glancing across the table at him, a speculative
The Biomass Computing Problem
- The crew discusses the deep-seated cultural and physical divide between Belters and 'Inners,' which fuels the dehumanization necessary for mass murder.
- Naomi proposes that the protomolecule is a distributed computing system that requires a massive amount of biomass to achieve its intended complexity.
- The group realizes that Eros was chosen as a controlled 'test tube' because its large population provides the biological processing power the virus needs to 'think.'
- Holden struggles to comprehend how a massive organization like Protogen could recruit enough people willing to participate in such a large-scale atrocity.
People have been getting tossed into ovens for less than that ever since they invented ovens.
Amos smiled, taking it as a compliment.
âBut you still donât get us,â Naomi said. âNot really . No one who grew
up with free air ever will. And thatâs why they can kill a million and a half
of us to figure out what their bug really does.â
âHey now,â Alex interjected. âYou serious âbout that? You think the
inners and outers see themselves as that dif ferent?â
âOf course they do,â Miller said. âWeâre too tall, too skinny , our heads
look too big, and our joints too knobby .â
Holden noticed Naomi glancing across the table at him, a speculative
look on her face. I like your head , Holden thought at her, but the radiation
hadnâ t given him telepathy either , because her expression didnâ t change.
âWeâve practically got our own language now,â Miller said. âEver see
an Earther try to get directions in the deep dig?â
ââTu run spin, pow, Schlauch tu way acima and ido,ââ Naomi said with
a heavy Belter accent.
âGo spinward to the tube station, which will take you back to the
docks,â Amos said. âThe fuckâ s so hard about that?â
âI had a partner wouldnâ t have known that after two years on Ceres,â
Miller said. âAnd Havelock wasnâ t stupid. He just wasnâ t⌠from there.â
Holden listened to them talk and pushed cold pasta around on his plate
with a chunk of bread.
âOkay , we get it,â he said. âYouâre weird. But to kill a million and a
half people over some skeletal dif ferences and slangâŚâ
âPeople have been getting tossed into ovens for less than that ever
since they inven ted ovens,â Miller said. âIf it makes you feel better , most of
us think youâre squat and microcephalic.â
Alex shook his head.
âDonâ t make a lick of sense to me, turninâ that bug loose, even if you
hated every single human on Eros personally . Who knows what that thingâll
do?â
Naomi walked to the galley sink and washed her hands, the running
water drawing everyoneâ s attention.
âIâve been thinking about that,â she said, then turned around, wiping
her hands on a towel. âThe point of it, I mean.â
Miller started to speak, but Holden hushed him with a quick gesture
and waited for Naomi to continue.
âSo,â she said. âIâve been thinki ng of it as a computing problem. If the
virus or nanomachine or protomolecule or whatever was designed, it has a
purpose, right?â
âDefinitely ,â Holden said.
âAnd it seems like itâs trying to do somethingâsomething complex. It
doesnâ t make sense to go to all that trouble just to kill people. Those
changes it makes look intentional, just⌠not complete, to me.â
âI can see that,â Holden said. Alex and Amos nodded along with him
but stayed quiet.
âSo maybe the issue is that the protomolecule isnât smart enou gh yet.
You can compress a lot of data down pretty small, but unless itâs a quantum
computer , processing takes space. The easiest way to get that processing in
tiny machines is through distribution. Maybe the protomolecule isnât
finishing its job because it just isnâ t smart enough to. Y et.â
âNot enough of them,â Alex said.
âRight,â Naomi said, dropping the towel into a bin under the sink. âSo
you give them a lot of biomass to work with, and see what it is they are
ultimately made to do.â
âAccording to that guy in the video, they were made to hijack life on
Earth and wipe us out,â Miller said.
âAnd that,â Holden said, âis why Eros is perfect. Lots of biomass in a
vacuum-sealed test tube. And if it gets out of hand, thereâ s already a war
going on. A lot of ships and missiles can be used for nuking Eros into glass
if the threat seems real. Nothin g to make us forget our differences like a
new player butting in.â
âWow,â Amos said. âThat is really , really fucked up.â
âOkay . But even though thatâs probably whatâ s happened,â Holden
said, âI still canât believe that there are enough evil people all in one place
to do it. This isnât a one-man operation. This is the work of dozens, maybe
hundreds, of very smart people . Does Protogen just go aroun d recruiting
Docking at Tycho Station
- Holden and Miller discuss the horrifying implications of the protomolecule, which appears designed to hijack biomass and replace life on Earth.
- The crew arrives at Tycho Station, seeking refuge with Fred Johnson while carrying a dangerous research safe containing the protomolecule sample.
- Holden reflects on the cultural and physical divide between Earthers and Belters, noting how the Belt is kept under economic control to prevent total independence.
- Despite Miller's skepticism, Holden decides to trust Fred Johnson as the 'least wrong' option for dealing with the Protogen conspiracy.
- The massive generation ship Nauvoo serves as a symbol of human ambition, contrasting with the biological threat they have uncovered.
The bird was out of the cage, but you couldnât let it stretch its wings too far or it might forget it belonged to you.
âAccording to that guy in the video, they were made to hijack life on
Earth and wipe us out,â Miller said.
âAnd that,â Holden said, âis why Eros is perfect. Lots of biomass in a
vacuum-sealed test tube. And if it gets out of hand, thereâ s already a war
going on. A lot of ships and missiles can be used for nuking Eros into glass
if the threat seems real. Nothin g to make us forget our differences like a
new player butting in.â
âWow,â Amos said. âThat is really , really fucked up.â
âOkay . But even though thatâs probably whatâ s happened,â Holden
said, âI still canât believe that there are enough evil people all in one place
to do it. This isnât a one-man operation. This is the work of dozens, maybe
hundreds, of very smart people . Does Protogen just go aroun d recruiting
every potential Stalin and Jack the Ripper it runs across?â
âIâll make sure to ask Mr. Dresden,â Miller said, an unreadable
expression on his face, âwhen we finally meet.â
Tychoâ s habitat rings spun serenely around the bloated zero-g factory globe
in the center . The massive construction waldoes that sprouted from the top
were maneuvering an enormous piece of hull plating onto the side of the
Nauvoo. Looking at the station on the ops screens while Alex finished up
docking procedu res, Holden felt something like relief. So far, Tycho was
the one place no one had tried to shoot them, or blow them up, or vomit goo
on them, and that practically made it home.
Holden looked at the research safe clamped securely to the deck and
hoped that he hadnâ t just killed everyone on the station by bringing it there.
As if on cue, Miller pulled himself through the deck hatch and drifted
over to the safe. He gave Holden a meaningful look.
âDonâ t say it. Iâm already thinking it,â Holden said.
Miller shrugged and drifted over to the ops station.
âBig,â he said, nodding at the Nauvoo, on Holdenâ s screen.
âGeneration ship,â Holden said. âSomething like that will give us the
stars.â
âOr a lonely death on a long trip to nowhere,â Miller replied.
âYou know,â Holden said, âsome speciesâ version of the great galactic
adventure is shooting virus-filled bullets at their neighbors. I think ours is
pretty damn noble in comparison.â
Miller seemed to consider that, nodded, and watched Tycho Station
swell on the monitor as Alex brought them closer . The detective kept one
hand on the console, making the micro adjustments necessary to remain still
even as the pilotâ s maneuvers threw unexpected bursts of gravity at them
from every direction. Holden was strapped into his chair . Even
concentrating, he couldnâ t handle zero g and intermittent thrust half that
well. His brain just couldnâ t be trained out of the twenty-odd years heâd
spent with gravity as a constant.
Naomi was right. It would be so easy to see Belters as alien. Hell, if
you gave them time to develop some really efficient implantable oxygen
storage and recycling and kept trimming the environment suits down to the
minimum necessary for heat, you might wind up with Belters who spent
more time outside their ships and stations than in.
Maybe that was why they were taxed to subsistence level. The bird
was out of the cage, but you couldnâ t let it stretch its wings too far or it
might for get it belonged to you.
âYou trust this Fred?â Miller asked.
âSort of,â Holden said. âHe treated us well last time, when everyone
else wanted us dead or locked up.â
Miller grunted, as if that proved nothing.
âHeâ s OPA, right?â
âYeah,â Holden said. âBut I think maybe the real OPA. Not the
cowboys who want to shoot it out with the inners. And not those nuts on the
radio calling for war . Fredâ s a politician.â
âWhat about the ones keeping Ceres in line?â
âI donât know ,â Holden said. âI donât know about them. But Fredâs the
best shot we have. Least wrong.â
âFair enough,â Miller said. âWe wonâ t find a political solution to
Protogen, you know .â
The Cost of Survival
- Holden and Miller meet with Fred Johnson to present evidence of Protogen's horrific experiments on Eros Station.
- The scale of the Nauvoo generation ship provides a sense of perspective and vertigo as the characters grapple with their mission.
- Holden and Miller are forced to take a lifelong regimen of medication to prevent death from radiation exposure following the events on Eros.
- Fred Johnson expresses disbelief at the psychopathic nature of the nanobug technology, while Miller argues that genocide is a historical constant.
- The group reaches a consensus that a political solution is impossible and that they must use force to stop Protogen's observation station.
The shipâ s expert medical system dispensed them for him every week with a warning that failing to take them on schedule would lead to horrific death.
else wanted us dead or locked up.â
Miller grunted, as if that proved nothing.
âHeâ s OPA, right?â
âYeah,â Holden said. âBut I think maybe the real OPA. Not the
cowboys who want to shoot it out with the inners. And not those nuts on the
radio calling for war . Fredâ s a politician.â
âWhat about the ones keeping Ceres in line?â
âI donât know ,â Holden said. âI donât know about them. But Fredâs the
best shot we have. Least wrong.â
âFair enough,â Miller said. âWe wonâ t find a political solution to
Protogen, you know .â
âYeah,â Holden said, then began unbuckling his harness as the Roci
slid into its berth with a series of metallic bangs. âBut Fred isnât just a
politician.â
Fred sat behind his large wooden desk, reading the notes Holden had
written about Eros, the search for Julie, and the discovery of the stealth
ship. Miller sat across from him, watching Fred like an entomologist might
watch a new species of bug, guessing if it was likely to sting. Holden was a
little farther away on Fredâ s right, trying not to keep looking at the clock on
his hand terminal. On the huge screen behind the desk, the Nauvoo drifted
by like the meta l bones of some dead and decaying leviathan. Holden could
see the tiny spots of brilliant blue light where workers used weld ing torches
on the hull and frame. T o occupy himself, he started counting them.
Heâd reached forty-three when a small shuttle appeared in his field of
view , a load of steel beams clutched in a pair of heavy manipulator arms,
and flew toward the half-built generation ship. The shuttle shrank to a point
no larger than the tip of a pen before it stopped. The Nauvoo suddenly
shifted in Holdenâ s mind from a large ship relatively nearby , to a gigantic
ship farther away . It gave him a short rush of vertigo.
His hand terminal beeped at almost the same instant that Miller âs did.
He didnât even look at it; he just tapped the face to shut it up. He knew this
routine by now. He pulled out a small bottle, took out two blue pills, and
swallowed them dry. He could hear Miller pouring pills out of his bottle as
well. The shipâ s expert medical system dispensed them for him every week
with a warning that failing to take them on schedule would lead to horrific
death. He took them. He would for the rest of his life. Missing a few would
just mean that wasnâ t very long.
Fred finished reading and threw his hand terminal down on the desk,
then rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands for several seconds. To
Holden, he looked older than the last time theyâd seen each other .
âI have to tell you, Jim, I have no idea what to make of this,â he finally
said.
Miller looked at Holden and mouthed, Jim, at him with a question on
his face. Holden ignored him.
âDid you read Naomiâ s addition at the end?â Holden asked.
âThe bit with the networked nanobugs for increased processing
power?â
âYeah, that bit,â Holden said. âIt makes sense, Fred.â
Fred laughed without humor , then stabbed one finger at his terminal.
âThat,â he said. âThat only makes sense to a psychopath. No one sane
could do that. No matter what they thought they might get out of it.â
Miller cleared his throat.
âYou have something to add, Mr . Muller?â Fred asked.
âMiller ,â the detective replied. âY es. Firstâand all respect hereâdonâ t
kid yourself. Genocideâ s old-sc hool. Second, the facts arenâ t in question.
Protogen infect ed Eros Station with a lethal alien disease, and theyâre
recording the results. Why doesnâ t matter . We need to stop them.â
âAnd,â Holden said, âwe think we can track down where their
observation station is.â
Fred leaned back in his chair, the fake leather and metal frame
creaking under his weight even in the one-third g.
âStop them how?â he asked. Fred knew . He just wanted to hear them
say it out loud. Miller played along.
âIâd say we fly to their station and shoot them.â
Planning the Counterstrike
- Holden and Miller propose a military strike against the Protogen observation station to stop the lethal experiments on Eros.
- Fred Johnson agrees to let Holden keep the alien sample for now, acknowledging that the captain's honesty makes him a unique guardian.
- Miller reflects on the immense wealth and power displayed at Tycho Station while observing the construction of the massive ship, the Nauvoo.
- Naomi struggles to triangulate the location of the enemy station due to complex tightbeam data and potential relay drones.
What if I told you that Iâve hidden the safe on a planetesimal booby-trapped with enough plutonium to break anyone who touches it into their component atoms even if they could find it?
kid yourself. Genocideâ s old-sc hool. Second, the facts arenâ t in question.
Protogen infect ed Eros Station with a lethal alien disease, and theyâre
recording the results. Why doesnâ t matter . We need to stop them.â
âAnd,â Holden said, âwe think we can track down where their
observation station is.â
Fred leaned back in his chair, the fake leather and metal frame
creaking under his weight even in the one-third g.
âStop them how?â he asked. Fred knew . He just wanted to hear them
say it out loud. Miller played along.
âIâd say we fly to their station and shoot them.â
âWho is âweâ?â Fred asked.
âThere are a lot of OP A hotheads looking to shoot it out with Earth and
Mars,â Holden said. âW e give them some real bad guys to shoot at instead.â
Fred nodded in a way that didnâ t mean he agreed to anything.
âAnd your sample? The captainâ s safe?â Fred said.
âThatâ s mine,â Holden said. âNo negotiation on that.â
Fred laughed again, though there was some humor in it this time.
Miller blinked in surprise and then stifled a grin.
âWhy would I agree to that?â Fred asked.
Holden lifted his chin and smiled.
âWhat if I told you that Iâve hidden the safe on a planetesimal booby-
trapped with enough plutonium to break anyone who touches it into their
component atoms even if they could find it?â he said.
Fred stared at him for a moment, then said, âBut you didnâ t.â
âWell, no,â Holden said. âBut I could tell you I did.â
âYou are too honest,â Fred said.
âAnd you canât trust anyone with something this big. You already
know what Iâm going to do with it. Thatâ s why, until we can agree on
something better , youâre leaving it with me.â
Fred nodded.
âYes,â he said, âI guess I am.â
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Miller
The observation deck looked out over the Nauvoo as the behemoth slowly
came together . Miller sat on the edge of a soft couch, his fingers laced over
his knee, his gaze on the immen se vista of the construction. After his time
on Holdenâ s ship and, before that, in Eros, with its old-style closed
architecture, a view so wide seemed artificial. The deck itself was wider
than the Rocinante and decorated with soft ferns and sculpted ivies. The air
recyclers were eerily quiet, and even though the spin gravity was nearly the
same as Ceresâ, the Coriolis felt subtly wrong.
Heâd lived in the Belt his whol e life, and heâd never been anywhere
that was designed so carefully for the tasteful display of wealth and power .
It was pleasant as long as he didnâ t think about it too much.
He wasnâ t the only one drawn to the open spaces of Tycho. A few
dozen station workers sat in groups or walked through togeth er. An hour
before, Amos and Alex had gone by, deep in their own conversation, so he
wasnâ t entirely surprised when, standing up and walking back toward the
docks, he saw Naomi sitting by herself with a bowl of food cooling on a
tray at her side. Her gaze was fixed on her hand terminal.
âHey ,â he said.
Naomi looked up, recognized him, and smiled distractedly .
âHey ,â she said.
Miller nodded toward the hand terminal and shrugged a question.
âComm data from that ship,â she said. It was always that ship, Miller
noticed. The same way people would call a particularly godawful crime
scene that place. âItâs all tightbe am, so I though t it wouldnâ t be so hard to
triangulate. ButâŚâ
âNot so much?â
Naomi lifted her eyebrows and sighed.
âIâve been plotting orbits,â she said. âBut nothingâ s fitting. There
could be relay drones, though. Moving targets the ship system was
calibrated for that would send the message on to the actual station. Or
another drone, and then the station, or who knows?â
âAny data coming of f Eros?â
âI assume so,â Naomi said, âbut I donât know that it would be any
easier to make sense of than this.â
âCanâ t your OPA friends do something?â Miller asked. âTheyâve got
more processing power than one of these handhelds. Probably have a better
activity map of the Belt too.â
Orbits and Unfinished Business
- Naomi struggles to trace the transmission path from Eros, suspecting a complex network of relay drones is masking the destination.
- Miller reaches out to his former partner Havelock via an encrypted drop site on Ganymede to seek assistance with the investigation.
- Watching the construction of the Nauvoo, Miller reflects on the Mormons' plan to launch a generation ship into deep space.
- Miller realizes that the discovery of the protomolecule as a weapon poses a dire threat to any future interstellar travelers.
Generations would live and die in it, and if they were mind-bendingly lucky enough to find a planet worth living on the end of the journey, the people who came out of it would never have known Earth or Mars or the Belt.
âIâve been plotting orbits,â she said. âBut nothingâ s fitting. There
could be relay drones, though. Moving targets the ship system was
calibrated for that would send the message on to the actual station. Or
another drone, and then the station, or who knows?â
âAny data coming of f Eros?â
âI assume so,â Naomi said, âbut I donât know that it would be any
easier to make sense of than this.â
âCanâ t your OPA friends do something?â Miller asked. âTheyâve got
more processing power than one of these handhelds. Probably have a better
activity map of the Belt too.â
âProbably ,â she said.
He couldnâ t tell if she didnâ t trust this Fred that Holden had given them
over to, or just needed to feel like the investigation was still hers. He
considered telling her to back off it for a while, to let the others carry it, but
he didnâ t see he had the moral authority to make that one stick.
âWhat?â Naomi said, an uncertain smile on her lips.
Miller blinked.
âYou were laugh ing a little,â Naomi said. âI donât think Iâve ever seen
you laugh before. I mean, not when something was funny .â
âI was just thinking about something a partner of mine told me about
letting cases go when you got pulled from them.â
âWhat did he say?â
âThat itâ s like taking half a shit,â Miller said.
âHad a way with words, that one.â
âHe was all right for an Earther ,â Miller said, and something tickled at
the back of his mind. Then, a moment later: âAh, Jesus. I may have
something.â
Havelock met him in an encrypted drop site that lived on a server cluster on
Ganymede. The latency kept them from anything like real-time
conversation. It was more like dropping notes, but it did the trick. The
waiting made Miller anxious. He sat with his terminal set to refresh every
three seconds.
âWould you like anything else?â the woman asked. âAnother
bourbon?â
âThatâd be great,â Miller said, and checked to see if Havelock had
replied yet. He hadnâ t.
Like the observation deck, the bar looked out on the Nauvoo, though
from a slightly different angle. The great ship looked foreshortened, and
arcs of energy lit it where a layer of ceramic was annealing. A bunch of
religious zealots were going to load themselves into that massive ship, that
small self-sustaining world, and launch themselves into the darkness
between the stars. Generations would live and die in it, and if they were
mind-bendingly lucky enough to find a planet worth living on the end of the
journey , the people who came out of it would never have known Earth or
Mars or the Belt. Theyâd be aliens already . And if whatever had made the
protomolecule was out there to greet them, then what?
Would they all die like Julie had?
There was life out there. They had proof of it now. And the proof came
in the shape of a weapon, so what did that tell him? Except that maybe the
Mormons deserved a little warning about what they were signing their
great-grandkids up for .
He laughed to himself when he realized that was exactly what Holden
A Debt Repaid
- Miller reflects on the existential risks of the Mormon generation ship, realizing the protomolecule represents a lethal alien weapon.
- Havelock, Miller's former partner, sends an encrypted message confirming he is working security for the 'scary' Protogen corporation.
- The message provides the secret coordinates for Thoth Station, a discreet black ops research lab heavily guarded by automated defenses.
- Miller warns Havelock to distance himself from Protogen before deleting the evidence and preparing to share the intel with Holden.
He had the bone-deep feeling he wasnât ever going to talk to Havelock again.
between the stars. Generations would live and die in it, and if they were
mind-bendingly lucky enough to find a planet worth living on the end of the
journey , the people who came out of it would never have known Earth or
Mars or the Belt. Theyâd be aliens already . And if whatever had made the
protomolecule was out there to greet them, then what?
Would they all die like Julie had?
There was life out there. They had proof of it now. And the proof came
in the shape of a weapon, so what did that tell him? Except that maybe the
Mormons deserved a little warning about what they were signing their
great-grandkids up for .
He laughed to himself when he realized that was exactly what Holden
would say .
The bourbon arrived at the same moment his hand terminal chimed.
The video file had a layered encryption that took almost a minute to
unpack. That alone was a good sign.
The file opened, and Havelock grinned out from the screen. He was in
better shape than heâd been on Ceres, and it showed in the shape of his jaw.
His skin was darker , but Miller didnâ t know if it was purely cosmetic or if
his old partner had been basking in false sunlight for the joy of it. It didnâ t
matter . It made the Earther look rich and fit.
âHey , buddy ,â Havelock said. âGood to hear from you. After what
happened with Shaddid and the OPA, I was afraid we were going to be on
different sides now . Iâm glad you got out of there before the shit hit the fan.
âYeah, Iâm still with Protogen, and Iâve got to tell you, these guys are
kind of scary . I mean, Iâve work ed contract security before, and Iâm pretty
clear when someoneâ s hard-cor e. These guys arenâ t cops. Theyâre troops.
You know what I mean?
âOfficially , I donât know dick about a Belt station, but you know how
it is. Iâm from Earth. There are a lot of these guys who gave me shit about
Ceres. Working with the vacuum-heads. That kind of thing. But the way
things are here, itâs better to be on the good side of the bad guys. Itâs just
that kind of job.â
There was an apology in his expression. Miller understood. Working in
some corporations was like going to prison. You adopted the views of the
people around you. A Belter might get hired on, but heâd never belong.
Like Ceres, just pointed the other way. If Havelock had made friends with a
set of inner planets mercs who spent their off nights curb-stomping Belters
outside bars, then he had.
But making friends didnâ t mean he was one of them.
âSo. Off the record, yeah, thereâs a black ops station in the Belt. I
hadnâ t heard it called Thoth, but it could be. Some sort of very scary deep
research and development lab. Heavy science crew , but not a huge place. I
think discr eet would be the word. Lots of automated defenses, but not a big
ground crew .
âI donât need to tell you that leaking the coordinates would get my ass
killed out here. So wipe the file when youâre done, and letâs not talk again
for a long, long time.â
The datafile was small. Three lines of plaintext orbital notation. Miller
put it into his hand terminal and killed the file of f the Ganymede server . The
bourbon still sat beside his hand , and he drank it off neat. The warmth in his
chest might have been the alcohol or it might have been victory .
He turned on the hand terminalâ s camera.
âThanks. I owe you one. Hereâ s part of the payment. What happened
on Eros? Protogen was part of it, and itâs big. If you get the chance to drop
your contract with them, do it. And if they try to rotate you out to that black
ops station, donâ t go.â
Miller frowned. The sad truth was that Havelock was probably the last
real partner heâd had. The only one whoâd looked on him as an equal. As
the kind of detective Miller had imagined himself to be.
âTake care of yourself, partner ,â he said, then ended the file, encrypted
it, shipped it out. He had the bone-deep feeling he wasnâ t ever going to talk
to Havelock again.
He put through a connection request to Holden. The screen filled with
The Location of Thoth Station
- Miller secures critical intelligence from his former partner Havelock, identifying the location of the mysterious Thoth Station.
- The detective reflects on the shifting alliances of the conflict, realizing the war isn't just Belters versus Inners, but those who value life versus those who don't.
- Miller approaches Fred Johnson with the coordinates but demands proof that the OPA has the military capability to actually destroy the station.
- Despite his moralizing, Miller admits to himself that he would execute the Protogen leadership without hesitation if given the chance.
He had the bone-deep feeling he wasnât ever going to talk to Havelock again.
put it into his hand terminal and killed the file of f the Ganymede server . The
bourbon still sat beside his hand , and he drank it off neat. The warmth in his
chest might have been the alcohol or it might have been victory .
He turned on the hand terminalâ s camera.
âThanks. I owe you one. Hereâ s part of the payment. What happened
on Eros? Protogen was part of it, and itâs big. If you get the chance to drop
your contract with them, do it. And if they try to rotate you out to that black
ops station, donâ t go.â
Miller frowned. The sad truth was that Havelock was probably the last
real partner heâd had. The only one whoâd looked on him as an equal. As
the kind of detective Miller had imagined himself to be.
âTake care of yourself, partner ,â he said, then ended the file, encrypted
it, shipped it out. He had the bone-deep feeling he wasnâ t ever going to talk
to Havelock again.
He put through a connection request to Holden. The screen filled with
the captainâ s open, charming, vaguely naive face.
âMiller ,â Holden said. âEverything okay?â
âYeah. Great. But I need to talk to your Fred guy. Can you arrange
that?â
Holden frowned and nodded at the same time.
âSure. Whatâ s going on?â
âI know where Thoth Station is,â Miller said.
âYou know what?â
Miller nodded.
âWhere the hell did you get that?â
Miller grinned. âIf I gave you that information and it got out, a good
man would get killed,â he said. âY ou see how that works?â
It struck Miller as he, Holden, and Naomi waited for Fred that he knew an
awful lot of inner planets types fighting against the inner planets. Or at least
not for them. Fred, supposedly a high-ranking OPA member . Havelock.
Three-quarters of the crew of the Rocinante. Juliette Mao.
It wasnâ t what he would have expected. But maybe that was
shortsighted. He was seeing the thing the way Shaddid and Protogen did.
There were two sides fightingâthat was true enoughâbut they werenâ t the
inner planets versus the Belters. They were the people who thought it was a
good idea to kill people who looked or acted differently against the people
who didnâ t.
Or maybe that was a crap analysis too. Because given the chance to
put the scientist from the Protogen pitch, the board of directors, and
whoever this Dresden piece of shit was into an airlock, Miller knew heâd
agonize about it for maybe half a second after he blew them all into
vacuum. Didnâ t put him on the side of angels.
âMr. Miller . What can I do for you?â
Fred. The Earth er OPA. He wore a blue button-down shirt and a nice
pair of slacks. He could have been an architect or a mid-level administrator
for any number of good, respec table corporations. Miller tried to imagine
him coordinating a battle.
âYou can convince me that youâve really got what it takes to kill the
Protogen station,â Miller said. âThen Iâll tell you where it is.â
Fredâ s eyebrows rose a millimeter .
âCome into my of fice,â Fred said.
Miller went. Holden and Naomi followed. When the doors closed
behind them, Fred was the first to speak.
âIâm not sure exactly what you want from me. Iâm not in the habit of
making my battle plans public knowledge.â
âWeâre talking about storming a station,â Miller said. âSomething with
damn good defenses and mayb e more ships like the one that killed the
Canterbury . No disrespect intended, but thatâs a pretty tall order for a bunch
of amateurs like the OP A.â
âAh, Miller?â Holden said. Miller held up a hand, cutting him of f.
âI can give you the directions to Thoth Station,â Miller said. âBut if I
do that and it turns out you havenâ t got the punch to see this through, then a
lot of people die and nothing gets resolved. Iâm not up for that.â
Fred cocked his head, like a dog hearing an unfamiliar sound. Naomi
The Butcher and the Detective
- Miller expresses deep skepticism about the OPA's ability to conduct a large-scale military operation against Thoth Station.
- Holden and Naomi reveal that Fred Johnson is actually the infamous 'Butcher of Anderson Station,' a former high-ranking military officer.
- Chastened by his mistake, Miller provides the coordinates for the station but demands a spot on the ground assault team.
- Fred Johnson accepts Miller's terms and prepares a force consisting of OPA soldiers, a cargo ship, and the Rocinante for the mission.
âThe Butcher of Anderson Station?â he said. âThe same,â Fred said.
damn good defenses and mayb e more ships like the one that killed the
Canterbury . No disrespect intended, but thatâs a pretty tall order for a bunch
of amateurs like the OP A.â
âAh, Miller?â Holden said. Miller held up a hand, cutting him of f.
âI can give you the directions to Thoth Station,â Miller said. âBut if I
do that and it turns out you havenâ t got the punch to see this through, then a
lot of people die and nothing gets resolved. Iâm not up for that.â
Fred cocked his head, like a dog hearing an unfamiliar sound. Naomi
and Holden shared a glance that Miller couldnâ t parse.
âThis is a war,â Miller said, warming to the subject. âIâve worke d with
the OPA before, and frankly you folks are a lot better at little guerrilla
bullshit than at coordinating anything real. Half of the people who claim to
speak for you are crackpots who happened to have a radio nearby . I see
youâve got a lot of money . I see youâve got a nice of fice. What I donâ t seeâ
what I need to seeâis that youâve got what it takes to bring these bastards
down. Taking out a station isnât a game. I donât care how many simulations
youâve run. This is real now. If Iâm going to help you, I need to know you
can handle it.â
There was a long silence.
âMiller?â Naomi said. âY ou know who Fred is, right?â
âThe Tycho mouthpiece for the OPA,â Miller said. âThat doesnâ t draw
a whole lot of water with me.â
âHeâ s Fred Johnson, â Holden said.
Fredâ s eyebrows rose another millimeter . Miller frowned and crossed
his arms.
âColonel Frederick Lucius Johnson,â Naomi said, clarifying.
Miller blinked. âThe Butcher of Anderson Station?â he said.
âThe same,â Fred said. âI have been talking with the central council of
the OPA. I have a cargo ship with more than enough troops to secure the
station. Air support is a state-of-the-art Martian torpedo bomber .â
âThe Roci? â Miller said.
âThe Rocinante, â Fred agreed. âAnd while you may not believe it, I
actually know what Iâm doing.â
Miller looked at his feet, then up toward Holden.
âThat Fred Johnson?â he said.
âI thought you knew ,â Holden said.
âWell. Donâ t I feel like the flaming idiot,â Miller said.
âItâll pass,â Fred said. âWas there anything else you wanted to
demand?â
âNo,â Miller said. And then: âYes. I want to be part of the ground
assault. When we take that station crew , I want to be there.â
âAre you sure?â Fred said. ââTaking out a station isnât a game.â What
makes you think you have what it takes?â
Miller shrugged.
âOne thing it takes is the coordinates,â Miller said. âI have got those.â
Fred laughed. âMr. Miller . If youâd like to go down to this station and
have whatever âs waiting for us down there try to kill you along with the rest
of us, I wonâ t stand in your way .â
âThanks,â Miller said. He pulled up his hand terminal and sent the
plaintext coordi nates to Fred. âThere you go. My source is solid, but heâs
not working from firsthand data. W e should confirm before we commit.â
âIâm not an amateur ,â Colonel Fred Johnson said, looking at the file.
Miller nodded, adjusted his hat, and walked out. Naomi and Holden flanked
him. When they reached the wide, clean public hallway , Miller looked to
his right, catching Holdenâ s eyes.
âReally , I thought you knew ,â Holden said.
Eight days later, the message came. The cargo ship Guy Molinari had
arrived, full up with OPA soldiers. Havelockâ s coordinates had been
Departure for Thoth Station
- Miller prepares to leave the Rocinante to join OPA soldiers on the Guy Molinari for an assault on Thoth Station.
- The mission is triggered by the verification of coordinates where data is being collected from the Eros incident.
- Miller experiences a rare moment of emotional vulnerability when Holden insists on the crew reuniting after the battle.
- The Rocinante initiates a stealth approach toward the target, drifting silently while the cargo ship acts as a decoy.
Something painful happened under Millerâs sternum. Not a sharp pain, just a sudden ache.
not working from firsthand data. W e should confirm before we commit.â
âIâm not an amateur ,â Colonel Fred Johnson said, looking at the file.
Miller nodded, adjusted his hat, and walked out. Naomi and Holden flanked
him. When they reached the wide, clean public hallway , Miller looked to
his right, catching Holdenâ s eyes.
âReally , I thought you knew ,â Holden said.
Eight days later, the message came. The cargo ship Guy Molinari had
arrived, full up with OPA soldiers. Havelockâ s coordinates had been
verified. Somet hing was sure as hell out there, and it appe ared to be
collecting the tightbeamed data from Eros. If Miller wanted to be part of
this, the time had come to move out.
He sat in his quarters in the Rocinante for what was likely the last
time. He realize d with a little twinge, equal parts surprise and sorrow , that
he was going to miss the place. Holden, for all his faults and Miller âs
complaints, was a decent guy. In over his head and only half aware of the
fact, but Miller could think of more than one person who fit that bill. He
was going to miss Alexâ s odd, affected drawl and Amosâ casua l obscenity .
He was going to wonder if and how Naomi ever worked things out with her
captain.
Leaving was a reminder of things heâd already known: that he didnâ t
know what would come next, that he didnâ t have much money , and that
while he was sure he could get back from Thoth station, where and how he
went from there was going to be improvisation. Maybe there would be
another ship he could sign on with. Maybe heâd have to take a contract and
save up some money to cover his new medical expenses.
He checked the magazine in his gun. Packed his spare clothes into the
small, battered pack heâd taken on the transport from Ceres. Everything he
owned still fit in it.
He turned off the lights and made his way down the short corridor
toward the ladder -lift. Holden was in the galley , twitching nervously . The
dread of the coming battle was already showing in the corners of the manâ s
eyes.
âWell,â Miller said. âHere we go, eh?â
âYep,â Holden said.
âItâs been a hell of a ride,â Miller said. âCanâ t say itâs all been
pleasant, butâŚâ
âYeah.â
âTell the others I said goodbye,â Miller said.
âWill do,â Holden said. Then, as Miller moved past him toward the
lift: âSo assumin g we all actual ly live through this, where shou ld we meet
up?â
Miller turned.
âI donâ t understand,â he said.
âYeah, I know . Look, I trust Fred or I wouldnâ t have come here. I think
heâs honorable, and heâll do the right thing by us. That doesnâ t mean I trust
the whole OPA. After we get this thing done, I want the whole crew
together . Just in case we need to get out in a hurry .â
Something painful happened under Miller âs sternum. Not a sharp pain,
just a sudden ache. His throat felt thick. He coughed to clear it.
âAs soon as we get the place secure, Iâll get in touch,â Miller said.
âOkay , but donât take too long. If Thoth Station has a whorehouse left
standing, Iâm going to need help prying Amos out of it.â
Miller opened his mouth, closed it, and tried again.
âAye, aye, Captain,â he said, forcing a lightness into his voice.
âBe careful,â Holden said.
Miller left, pausing in the passa geway between ship and station until
he was sure heâd stopped weeping, and then making his way to the cargo
ship and the assault.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Holden
The Rocinante hurtled through space like a dead thing, tumbling in all three
axes. With the reactor shut down and all the cabin air vented, it radiated
neither heat nor electromagnetic noise. If it werenâ t for its speeding toward
Thoth station significantly faster than a rifle shot, the ship would be
indistinguishable from the rocks in the Belt. Nearly half a million
kilometers behind it, the Guy Molinari screamed the Rociâs innocence to
anyone who would listen, and fired its engines in a long slow deceleration.
With the radio off, Holden couldnât hear what they were saying, but
The Low-Tech Trojan Horse
- The Rocinante approaches Thoth Station disguised as a piece of runaway cargo, tumbling through space with its reactor and life support shut down.
- The crew uses the Guy Molinari to broadcast a fake warning about an accidental detonation to provide a plausible cover for the ship's high-speed trajectory.
- The strategy relies on the assumption that the station's security will hesitate to fire to avoid revealing their secret location to the rest of the solar system.
- Flying blind and silent, the crew must rely on mechanical timepieces and pre-memorized schedules rather than high-tech sensors to execute their arrival.
- Holden reflects on the precariousness of their situation, knowing that any miscalculation by the team or the station would result in instant vaporization.
The Rocinante hurtled through space like a dead thing, tumbling in all three axes.
The Rocinante hurtled through space like a dead thing, tumbling in all three
axes. With the reactor shut down and all the cabin air vented, it radiated
neither heat nor electromagnetic noise. If it werenâ t for its speeding toward
Thoth station significantly faster than a rifle shot, the ship would be
indistinguishable from the rocks in the Belt. Nearly half a million
kilometers behind it, the Guy Molinari screamed the Rociâs innocence to
anyone who would listen, and fired its engines in a long slow deceleration.
With the radio off, Holden couldnât hear what they were saying, but
heâd helped write the warning, so it echoed in his head anywa y. Warning!
Accidental detonation on the cargo ship Guy Molinari has broken large
cargo container free. Warning to all ships in its path: Container is traveling
at high speed and without independent contr ol. W arning!
There had been some discussion about not broadcasting at all. Because
Thoth was a black station, theyâd be using only passive sensor s. Scanning
every direction with radar or ladar would light them up like a Christmas
tree. It was possible that with its reactor off, the Rocinante could sneak up
on the station without being noticed. But Fred had decided that if they were
somehow spotted, it would be suspicious enough to probably warrant an
immediate coun terattack. So instead of playing it quiet, theyâd decided to
play it loud and count on confusion to help them.
With luck the Thoth Station security systems would scan them and see
that they were in fact a big chunk of metal flying on an unchan ging vector
and lacking apparent life support, and ignore them just long enough to let
them get close. From far away , the stationsâ defense systems might be too
much for the Roci. But up close, the maneuverable little ship could dart
around the station and cut it to pieces. All their cover story needed to do
was buy them time while the stationâs security team tried to figure out what
was going on.
Fred, and by extension everyone in the assault, was betting that the
station wouldnâ t fire until they were absolutely certain they were under
attack. Protogen had gone to a lot of trouble to hide their research lab in the
Belt. As soon as they launched their first missile, their anonymity was lost
forever . With the war going on, monitors would pick up the fusion torch
trails and wonde r what was up. Firing a weapon would be Thoth Stationâ s
last resort.
In theory .
Sitting alone inside the tiny bubble of air contained in his helmet,
Holden knew that if they were wrong, heâd never even realize it. The Roci
was flying blind. All radio contact was down. Alex had a mechanical
timepiece with a glow-in-the-dark face, and a to-the-second schedule
memorized. They couldnâ t beat Thoth at high-tech, so they were flying as
low-tech as you could get. If theyâd missed their guess and the station fired
on them, the Roci would be vaporized without warning. Holden had once
dated a Buddhis t who said that death was merely a different state of being,
and people only feared the unknown that lay behind that transition. Death
The Low-Tech Gambit
- The crew of the Rocinante attempts a stealth approach toward Thoth station by powering down all electronic systems to avoid detection.
- Holden reflects on the extreme risks of the mission, noting that the OPA assault team faces a projected casualty rate of over sixty percent.
- A thermal signature near the station suggests the presence of a stealth frigate, adding a lethal tactical complication to the boarding plan.
- The tension of the silent approach breaks as the ship's systems begin to flicker back to life for the final high-G braking maneuver.
If theyâd missed their guess and the station fired on them, the Roci would be vaporized without warning.
was flying blind. All radio contact was down. Alex had a mechanical
timepiece with a glow-in-the-dark face, and a to-the-second schedule
memorized. They couldnâ t beat Thoth at high-tech, so they were flying as
low-tech as you could get. If theyâd missed their guess and the station fired
on them, the Roci would be vaporized without warning. Holden had once
dated a Buddhis t who said that death was merely a different state of being,
and people only feared the unknown that lay behind that transition. Death
without warning was preferable, as it removed all fear .
He felt he now had the counterar gument.
To keep his mind busy, he ran through the plan again. When they were
practically close enough to spit on Thoth station, Alex would fire up the
reactor and do a braking maneuver at nearly ten gâs. The Guy Molinari
would begin spraying radio static and laser clutter at the station to confuse
its targeting package for the few moments the Roci would need to come
around on an attack vector . The Roci would engage the stationâ s defenses,
disabling anythi ng that could hurt the Molinari, while the cargo ship moved
in to breach the stationâ s hull and drop of f her assault troops.
There were any number of things wrong with this plan.
If the station decided to fire early , just in case, the Roci could die
before the fight even started. If the stationâ s targeting system could cut the
Molinari âs static and laser clutter , they might begin firing while the Roci
was still getting into position. And even if all that worked perfectly , there
was still the assault team, cutting their way into the station and fighting
corridor to corridor to the nerve center to take control. Even the inner
planetsâ best marines were terrified of breaching actions, and for good
reason. Moving through unfamiliar metal hallways without cover while the
enemy ambushe d you at every intersection was a good way to get a lot of
people killed. In training simulations back in the Earth navy , Holden had
never seen the marines do better than 60 percent casualties. And these
werenâ t inner planet marines with years of training and state-of-the-art
equipment. They were OPA cowboys with whatever gear they could scrape
together at the last minute.
But even that wasnâ t what really worried Holden.
What really worried him was the large, slightly-warmer -than-space
area just a few dozen meters above Thoth station. The Molinari had spotted
it and warned them before cutting them loose. Having seen the stealth ships
before, no one on the Roci doubted that this was another one.
Fighting the station would be bad enough, even up close, wher e most
of the stationâ s advantages were lost. But Holden didnâ t look forward to
dodging torpedo fire from a missile frigate at the same time. Alex had
assured him that if they could get in close enough to the station, they could
keep the frigate from firing at them for fear of damaging Thoth, and that the
Rociâs greate r maneuverability would make it more than a match for the
larger and more heavily armed ship. The stealth frigates were a strategic
weapon, heâd said, not a tactical one. Holden hadnâ t said, Then why do they
have one her e?
Holden moved to glance down at his wrist, then snorted with
frustration in the pitch black of the ops deck. His suit was powered down,
chronometers and lights both. The only system on in his suit was air
circulation, and that was strictly mechanical. If something got fouled up
with it, no little warning lights would come on; heâd just choke and die.
He glanced around the dark room and said, âCome on, how much
longer?â
As if in answer , lights began flickering on through the cabin. There
was a burst of static in his helmet; then Alexâ s drawling voice said,
âInternal comms online.â
Holden began flipping switches to bring the rest of the systems back
up.
âReactor ,â he said.
âTwo minutes,â Amos replied from the engine room.
âMain computer .â
The High-G Burn
- The crew of the Rocinante transitions from a silent, dark approach to full combat readiness as systems come back online.
- A stealth ship near Thoth Station begins powering up its engines, signaling an imminent confrontation.
- The ship's automated medical systems inject the crew with a cocktail of drugs to prepare their bodies for extreme gravitational forces.
- The Rocinante executes a brutal ten-g deceleration maneuver that physically crushes the crew while they remain painfully lucid.
- Despite the physical strain, the crew successfully targets the station's communication array as the high-g burn concludes.
A thousand pounds sat on Holdenâs chest and rumbled like a laughing giant as the Rociâs engine slammed on the brakes at ten gâs.
circulation, and that was strictly mechanical. If something got fouled up
with it, no little warning lights would come on; heâd just choke and die.
He glanced around the dark room and said, âCome on, how much
longer?â
As if in answer , lights began flickering on through the cabin. There
was a burst of static in his helmet; then Alexâ s drawling voice said,
âInternal comms online.â
Holden began flipping switches to bring the rest of the systems back
up.
âReactor ,â he said.
âTwo minutes,â Amos replied from the engine room.
âMain computer .â
âThirty seconds to reboot,â Naomi said, and waved at him from across
the ops deck. The lights had come up enough for them to see each other .
âWeps?â
Alex laughed with something like genuine glee over the comm.
âWeapons are coming online,â he said. âAs soon as Naomi gives me
back the tar geting comp, weâll be cocked, locked, and ready to rock.â
Hearing everyone check in after the long and silent darkness of their
approach reassu red him. Being able to look across the room and see Naomi
working at her tasks eased a dread he hadnâ t even realized heâd been
feeling.
âTargeting should be up now ,â Naomi said.
âRoger that,â Alex replied. âScopes are up. Radar , up. Ladar , upâ
Shit, Naomi, you seeing this?â
âI see it,â Naom i said. âCaptain, getting engine signatures from the
stealth ship. Theyâre powering up too.â
âWe expected that,â Holden said. âEveryone stay on task.â
âOne minute,â Amos said.
Holden turned on his console and pulled up his tactical display . In the
scope, Thoth Station turned in a lazy circle while the slightly warm spot
above it got hot enough to resolve a rough hull outline.
âAlex, that doesnâ t look like the last frigate,â Holden said. âDoes the
Roci recognize it yet?â
âNot yet, Cap, but sheâ s workinâ on it.â
âThirty seconds,â Amos said.
âGetting ladar searches from the station,â Naomi said. âBroadcasting
chatter .â
Holden watched on his screen as Naomi tried to match the wavelength
the station was using to target them, and began spraying the station with
their own laser comm array to confuse the returns.
âFifteen seconds,â Amos said.
âOkay , buckle up, kids,â Alex said. âHere comes the juice.â
Even before Alex had finished saying it, Holden felt a dozen pinpricks
as his chair pumped him full of drugs to keep him alive during the coming
deceleration. His skin went tight and hot, and his balls crawled up into his
belly . Alex seemed to be speaking in slow motion.
âFive⌠four⌠three⌠twoâŚâ
He never said one. Instead, a thousand pounds sat on Holdenâ s chest
and rumbled like a laughing giant as the Rociâs engine slammed on the
brakes at ten gâs. Holden thought he could actually feel his lungs scraping
the inside of his rib cage as his chest did its best to collapse. But the chair
pulled him into a soft gel-filled embrace, and the drugs kept his heart
beating and his brain processing. He didnâ t black out. If the high-g
maneuvering killed him, heâd be wide awake and lucid for the entire thing.
His helmet filled with the sound of gurgling and labored breathing,
only some of which was his own. Amos managed part of a curse before his
jaw was clamped shut. Holden couldnâ t hear the Roci shuddering with the
strain of her course change, but he could feel it through the seat. She was
tough. Tougher than any of them. Theyâd be long dead before the ship
pulled enough gâ s to hurt itself.
When relief came, it came so suddenly that Holden almost vomited.
The drugs in his system stopped that too. He took a deep breath and the
cartilage of his sternum clicked painfully back into place.
âCheck in,â he muttered. His jaw hurt.
âComm array targeted,â Alex replied immediately . Thoth Stationâ s
Ambush at Thoth Station
- The crew of the Rocinante survives a high-G maneuver only to discover that what appeared to be one large stealth ship is actually two smaller, highly maneuverable interceptors.
- Captain Holden orders Alex to fire a torpedo to draw the enemy ships' attention away from the Molinari, effectively painting a target on the Roci.
- Thoth Station surprises the crew by firing a heavy gauss cannon that punches a hole straight through the ship's galley and machine shop.
- Faced with multiple threats, Holden prioritizes destroying the station's communication array while preparing to blind the incoming fighters with the ship's comm laser.
- The Rocinante enters a chaotic engagement zone filled with point defense cannon fire as Alex attempts a dangerous torpedo run on the station.
Nothing thatâll kill us sounded good, but Holden felt a pang for his coffeemaker.
only some of which was his own. Amos managed part of a curse before his
jaw was clamped shut. Holden couldnâ t hear the Roci shuddering with the
strain of her course change, but he could feel it through the seat. She was
tough. Tougher than any of them. Theyâd be long dead before the ship
pulled enough gâ s to hurt itself.
When relief came, it came so suddenly that Holden almost vomited.
The drugs in his system stopped that too. He took a deep breath and the
cartilage of his sternum clicked painfully back into place.
âCheck in,â he muttered. His jaw hurt.
âComm array targeted,â Alex replied immediately . Thoth Stationâ s
comm and tar geting array was the first item on their tar get priority list.
âAll green,â Amos said from below .
âSir,â Naomi said, a warning in her voice.
âShit, I see it,â Alex said.
Holden told his console to mirror Naomiâ s so he could see what she
was looking at. On her screen, the Roci had figured out why it couldn ât
identify the stealth ship.
There were two ships, not one large and ungainly missile frigate that
they could dance around and cut to pieces at close range. No, that would
have been too easy. These were two much smaller ships parked close
together to trick enemy sensors. And now they were both firing their
engines and splitting up.
Okay , Holden thought. New plan.
âAlex, get their attention,â he said. âCanâ t let them go after the
Molinari. â
âRoger ,â Alex replied. âOne away .â
Holden felt the Roci shudder as Alex fired a torpedo at one of the two
ships. The smaller ships were rapidly changing speed and vector , and the
torpedo had been fired hastily and from a bad angle. It wouldnâ t score a hit,
but the Roci would be on everyoneâ s scope as a threat now. So that was
good.
Both of the smaller ships darte d away in opposite directions at full
burn, spraying chaff and laser chatter behind them as they went. The
torpedo wobble d in its trajectory and then limped away in a random
direction.
âNaomi, Alex, any idea what weâre facing here?â Holden asked.
âRoci still doesnâ t recognize them, sir ,â Naomi said.
âNew hull design,â Alex said over her. âBut theyâre flyinâ like fast
interceptors. Guessinâ a torpedo or two on the belly , and a keel-mounted rail
gun.â
Faster and more maneuverable than the Roci, but theyâd be able to fire
in only one direction.
âAlex, come around toââ Holdenâ s order was cut short when the
Rocinante shuddered and jumped sideway s, hurling him into the side of his
restraints with rib-bruising force.
âWeâre hit!â Amos and Alex yelled at the same time.
âStation shot us with some sort of heavy gauss cannon,â Naomi said.
âDamage,â Holden said.
âWent clean through us, Cap,â Amos said. âGalley and the machine
shop. Got yellows on the board, but nothing thatâll kill us.â
Nothing thatâll kill us sounded good, but Holden felt a pang for his
coffeemaker .
âAlex,â Holden said. âFor get the little ships, kill that comm array .â
âRoger ,â Alex replied, and the Roci lurched sideways as Alex chang ed
course to begin his torpedo run on the station.
âNaomi, as soon as the first one of those fighters comes around on his
attack run, give him the comm laser in the face, full strength, and start
dropping chaf f.â
âYes, sir,â she replied. Maybe the laser would be enough to screw up
his tar geting system for a few seconds.
âStationâ s openinâ up with the PDCs,â Alex said. âThisâll get a mite
bumpy .â
Holden switched from mirroring Naomiâ s screen to watching Alexâ s.
His pane l filled with thousands of rapidly moving balls of light and Thoth
station rotating in the background. The Rociâs threat computer was outlining
the incoming point defense cann on fire with bright light on Alexâ s HUD. It
was moving impossibly fast, but at least with the system doing a bright
overlay on each round, the pilot could see where the fire was coming from
and which direc tion it was trave ling. Alex reacted to this threat information
The PDC Dance
- Alex maneuvers the Rocinante through a lethal grid of point defense cannon fire using high-speed, random movements to confuse automated targeting.
- Amos enters the dangerous crawl space between the ship's inner and outer hulls to repair damaged maneuvering thrusters during the heat of battle.
- The crew successfully destroys Thoth Station's communication and targeting array with a close-range torpedo strike, temporarily silencing the station's defenses.
- The victory is short-lived as enemy fighters launch two high-speed missiles, forcing the Roci into a desperate defensive sprint.
The ship moved restlessly, finding the gaps between the threads and dodging away to a new gap before the strands could react and touch her.
Holden switched from mirroring Naomiâ s screen to watching Alexâ s.
His pane l filled with thousands of rapidly moving balls of light and Thoth
station rotating in the background. The Rociâs threat computer was outlining
the incoming point defense cann on fire with bright light on Alexâ s HUD. It
was moving impossibly fast, but at least with the system doing a bright
overlay on each round, the pilot could see where the fire was coming from
and which direc tion it was trave ling. Alex reacted to this threat information
with consummate skill, maneuvering away from the PDCsâ direction of fire
in quick , almost random movements that forced the automated targeting of
the point defense cannons to adjust constantly .
To Holden, it looked like a game. Incredibly fast blobs of light flew up
from the space station in chains, like long and thin pearl necklaces. The ship
moved restlessly , finding the gaps between the threads and dodg ing away to
a new gap before the strands could react and touch her. But Holden knew
that each blob of light represented a chunk of Teflon-coated tungsten steel
with a depleted uranium heart, going thousands of meters per second. If
Alex lost the game, theyâd know it when the Rocinante was cut to pieces.
Holden almost jumped out of his skin when Amos spoke. âShit, Cap,
got a leak some where. Three port-maneuvering thrusters are losing water
pressure. Going to patch it.â
âCopy , Amos. Go fast,â Holden said.
âYou hang on down there, Amos,â Naomi said.
Amos just snorted.
On his console, Holden watche d as Thoth Station grew larger on the
scope. Somewhere behind them, the two fighters were probably coming
about. The thought made the back of Holdenâ s head itch, but he tried to
keep focus. The Roci didnâ t have enough torpedoes for Alex to fire shot
after shot at the station from far off and hope one made it throu gh the point
defense fire. Alex had to bring them in so close that the canno ns couldnâ t
shoot the torpedo down.
A blue highlight appeared on the HUD surrounding a portion of the
stationâ s central hub. The highlighted portion expanded into a smaller
subscreen. Holden could make out the dishes and antennas that made up the
comm and tar geting array .
âOne away ,â Alex said, and the Roci vibrated as her second torpedo
was fired.
Holden shook violently in his restraints and then slapped back into his
chair as Alex took the Roci through a series of sudden maneuvers and then
slammed down the throttle to evade the last of the PDC fire. Holden
watched his screen as the red dot of their missile streaked towar d the station
and struck the comm array . A flash blanked out his screen for a second and
then faded. Almost immediately the PDC fire stopped.
âGood shââ Holden was cut off by Naomi yelling, âBogey one has
fired! T wo fast movers!â
Holden flipped back to her screen and saw the threat system tracking
both fighters and two smaller and much faster objects moving toward the
Roci on an intercept course.
âAlex!â Holden said.
âGot it, Chief. Going defensive.â
Holden slamme d back into his chair again as Alex poured on the
speed. The steady rumble of the engine seemed to stutter , and Holden
realized he was feeling the constant fire of their own PDCs as they tried to
shoot down the pursuing missiles.
âWell, fuck,â Amos said almost conversationally .
âWhere are you?â Holden asked , then flipped his screen to Amosâ suit
camera. The mechanic was in a dimly illuminated crawl space filled with
conduit and piping. That meant he was between the inner and outer hulls. In
front of him, a section of damaged pipe looked like snapped bones. A
cutting torch floated nearby . The ship bounced violently , banging the
mechanic around in the tight space. Alex whooped over the comm.
âMissiles did not impact!â he said.
âTell Alex to stop jerking her around,â Amos said. âMakes it hard to
hang on to my tools.â
Combat and Hull Repairs
- The Rocinante engages in a high-stakes dogfight against two interceptors while dodging incoming missile fire.
- Amos performs critical repairs on a damaged pipe between the ship's hulls to maintain the vessel's maneuverability.
- Alex attempts to conserve limited torpedo supplies by relying on point defense cannons, prompting a stern order from Holden to prioritize survival over resources.
- The ship sustains a massive impact that throws the crew into chaos, resulting in physical injury to Holden and the activation of emergency systems.
The Rocinante slammed sideways hard enough that Holden broke his nose on the inside of his helmet.
Holden slamme d back into his chair again as Alex poured on the
speed. The steady rumble of the engine seemed to stutter , and Holden
realized he was feeling the constant fire of their own PDCs as they tried to
shoot down the pursuing missiles.
âWell, fuck,â Amos said almost conversationally .
âWhere are you?â Holden asked , then flipped his screen to Amosâ suit
camera. The mechanic was in a dimly illuminated crawl space filled with
conduit and piping. That meant he was between the inner and outer hulls. In
front of him, a section of damaged pipe looked like snapped bones. A
cutting torch floated nearby . The ship bounced violently , banging the
mechanic around in the tight space. Alex whooped over the comm.
âMissiles did not impact!â he said.
âTell Alex to stop jerking her around,â Amos said. âMakes it hard to
hang on to my tools.â
âAmos, get back to your crash couch!â Naomi said.
âSorry , Boss,â Amos replied with a grunt as he yanked one end of the
broken pipe free. âIf I donât fix this and we lose pressure, Alex wonâ t be
able to turn to starboard anymore. Bet thatâll fuck us up good.â
âKeep working, Amos,â Holden said over Naomiâ s protests. âBut hang
on. This is going to get worse.â
Amos said, âRoger that.â
Holden switched back to Alexâ s HUD display .
âHolden,â Naom i said. There was fear in her voice. âAmos is going to
getââ
âHeâ s doing his job. Do yours. Alex, we have to take these two out
before the Molinari gets here. Get me an intercept on one of them and letâs
kick its ass.â
âRoger that, Cap,â Alex said. âGoing after bogey two. Could use some
help with bogey one.â
âBogey one is Naomiâ s priority ,â Holden said. âDo what you can to
keep it of f of our backside while we kill his friend.â
âRoger ,â Naomi said in a tight voice.
Holden switched back to Amosâ helmet camera, but the mechanic
seemed to be doing fine. He was cutting the damaged pipe free with his
torch, and a length of replacement pipe floated nearby .
âStrap that pipe down, Amos,â Holden said.
âAll respect, Captain,â Amos said, âbut safety standards can kiss my
ass. Iâm getting this done fast and getting outta here.â
Holden hesitated . If Alex had to make a course correction, the floating
pipe could turn into a projectile massive enough to kill Amos or break the
Roci. Itâs Amos, he told himself. He knows what heâ s doing.
Holden flipped to Naomiâ s scree n as she poured everything the comm
system had at the small interce ptor, trying to blind it with light and radio
static. Then he went back to his tactical display . The Roci and bogey two
flew toward each other at suicid al speeds. As soon as they passed the point
where incoming torpedo fire couldnâ t be avoided, bogey two launched both
his missiles. Alex flagged the two fast movers for the PDCs and kept up his
intercept course but didnâ t launch missiles.
âAlex, why arenâ t we shooting?â Holden said.
âGonna shoot his torpedoes down, then get in close and let the PDCs
chew him up,â the pilot replied.
âWhy?â
âWeâve only got so many torpedoes and no resupply . No call to waste
âem on these munchkins.â
The incoming torpedoes arced forward on Holdenâ s display , and he felt
the Rociâs PDCs firing to shoot them down.
âAlex,â he said. âWe didnâ t pay for this ship. Feel free to use it up. If I
get killed so you can save amm o, I am going to put a reprimand in your
permanent file.â
âWell, you put it that wayâŚâ Alex said. Then: âOne away .â
The red dot of their torpedo streaked off toward bogey two. The
incoming missiles got closer and closer , and then one disappear ed from the
display .
Alex said, âShit,â in a flat voice, and then the Rocinante slammed
sideways hard enough that Holden broke his nose on the inside of his
helmet. Yellow emer gency lights began rotating on all the bulkheads,
though with the ship evacuated of air, Holden mercifully could nât hear the
Klaxons that were trying to sound throughout it. His tactical display
The Rocinante Under Fire
- The Rocinante sustains heavy damage from a near-miss torpedo detonation that destroys maneuvering thrusters and the crew airlock.
- Despite a broken nose and a busted rib among the crew, Holden and Alex attempt to maneuver the crippled ship to face an approaching enemy fighter.
- A direct hit from the enemy's railgun or cannon shreds the ship's hull, sending superheated metal shavings flying through the depressurized cabin.
- The crew narrowly survives a kinetic round that passes through the ship's bulkheads, missing Naomi by only a few centimeters.
The inside of the ship was filled with flying debris and bits of superheated metal shavings that looked like slow-motion showers of sparks.
âWell, you put it that wayâŚâ Alex said. Then: âOne away .â
The red dot of their torpedo streaked off toward bogey two. The
incoming missiles got closer and closer , and then one disappear ed from the
display .
Alex said, âShit,â in a flat voice, and then the Rocinante slammed
sideways hard enough that Holden broke his nose on the inside of his
helmet. Yellow emer gency lights began rotating on all the bulkheads,
though with the ship evacuated of air, Holden mercifully could nât hear the
Klaxons that were trying to sound throughout it. His tactical display
flickered, went out, and then came back after a second. When it came back
up, all three torpedoes, as well as bogey two, were gone. Bogey one
continued to bear down on them from astern.
âDamage!â Holden yelled, hoping the comm was still up.
âMajor damage to the outer hull,â Naomi replied. âFour maneuvering
thrusters gone. One PDC nonresponsive. Weâve also lost O2 storage, and
the crew airlock looks like itâ s slag.â
âWhy are we alive?â Holden asked while he flipped through the
damage report and then over to Amosâ suit camera.
âThe fish didnâ t hit us,â Alex said. âThe PDC got it, but it was close.
Warhead detonated and sprayed us down pretty good.â
It didnâ t look like Amos was moving. Holden yelled, âAmos! Report!â
âYeah, yeah, still here, Capta in. Just hanging on in case we get
knocked around like that again. I think I busted a rib on one of the hull
braces, but Iâm strapped down. Good fucking thing I didnâ t waste time with
that pipe, though.â
Holden didnâ t take time to answer. He flipped back to his tactical
display and watched the rapidly approaching bogey one. It had already fired
its torpedoes, but at close range it could still cut them apart with its cannon.
âAlex, can you get us turned around and get a firing solution on that
fighter?â he said.
âWorking on it. Donâ t have much maneuverability ,â Alex replied, and
the Roci began rotating with a series of lurches.
Holden switched to a telescope and zoomed in on the approaching
fighter . Up close, the muzzle of its cannon looked as big around as a
corridor on Ceres, and it appeared to be aimed directly at him.
âAlex,â he said.
âWorking on it, Chief, but the Rociâs hurtinâ.â
The enemy shipâ s cannon flared open, preparing to fire.
âAlex, kill it. Kill it kill it kill it. â
âOne away ,â the pilot said, and the Rocinante shuddered.
Holdenâ s consol e threw him out of the scope view and back to the
tactical view automatically . The Rociâs torped o flew toward the fighter at
almost the same instant that the fighter opened up with its cannon. The
display showed the incoming rounds as small red dots moving too fast to
follow .
âIncomââ he shouted, and the Rocinante came apart around him.
Holden came to.
The inside of the ship was filled with flying debris and bits of
superheated metal shavings that looked like slow-motion showe rs of sparks.
With no air, they bounced off walls and then floated, slowly cooling, like
lazy fireflies. He had a vague memory of one corner of a wall-mounted
monitor detaching and bouncin g off three bulkheads in the worldâ s most
elaborate billiard s shot, then hitting him right below the sternum. He looked
down, and the little chunk of monitor was floating a few centimeters in
front of him, but there was no hole in his suit. His guts hurt.
The ops console chair next to Naomi had a hole in it; green gel slowly
leaked into small balls that floated away in the zero g. Holden looked at the
hole in the chair , and the matching hole in the bulkhead acros s the room,
and realized that the round must have passed within centimeters of Naomiâ s
leg. A shudder swept through him, leaving him nauseated in its wake.
âWhat the fuck was that?â Amos asked quietly . âAnd how about we
donât do it anymore?â
Survival and the Belt
- The Rocinante survives a devastating direct hit from a fighter's cannon that shreds the ship from bow to stern.
- Holden regains consciousness to find the cabin filled with superheated debris and realizes Naomi narrowly escaped death.
- Despite the damage, the crew confirms the enemy is destroyed and prepares to limp toward a docking station.
- Miller prepares for a ground assault alongside young Belter soldiers whose thick accents and reckless bravery highlight the cultural divide of the system.
The inside of the ship was filled with flying debris and bits of superheated metal shavings that looked like slow-motion showers of sparks.
âOne away ,â the pilot said, and the Rocinante shuddered.
Holdenâ s consol e threw him out of the scope view and back to the
tactical view automatically . The Rociâs torped o flew toward the fighter at
almost the same instant that the fighter opened up with its cannon. The
display showed the incoming rounds as small red dots moving too fast to
follow .
âIncomââ he shouted, and the Rocinante came apart around him.
Holden came to.
The inside of the ship was filled with flying debris and bits of
superheated metal shavings that looked like slow-motion showe rs of sparks.
With no air, they bounced off walls and then floated, slowly cooling, like
lazy fireflies. He had a vague memory of one corner of a wall-mounted
monitor detaching and bouncin g off three bulkheads in the worldâ s most
elaborate billiard s shot, then hitting him right below the sternum. He looked
down, and the little chunk of monitor was floating a few centimeters in
front of him, but there was no hole in his suit. His guts hurt.
The ops console chair next to Naomi had a hole in it; green gel slowly
leaked into small balls that floated away in the zero g. Holden looked at the
hole in the chair , and the matching hole in the bulkhead acros s the room,
and realized that the round must have passed within centimeters of Naomiâ s
leg. A shudder swept through him, leaving him nauseated in its wake.
âWhat the fuck was that?â Amos asked quietly . âAnd how about we
donât do it anymore?â
âAlex?â Holden said.
âStill here, Cap,â the pilot replied, his voice eerily calm.
âMy panelâ s dead,â Holden said. âDid we kill that son of a bitch?â
âYeah, Cap, heâs dead. About half a dozen of his rounds actually hit
the Roci. Looks like they went through us from bow to stern. That anti-
spalling webbin g on the bulkheads really keeps the shrapnel down, doesnâ t
it?â
Alexâ s voice had started shaking. He meant We should all be dead.
âOpen a channel to Fred, Naomi,â Holden said.
She didnâ t move.
âNaomi?â
âRight. Fred,â she said, then tapped on her screen.
Holdenâ s helme t was filled with static for a second, then with Fredâ s
voice.
âGuy Molinari here. Glad you guys are still alive.â
âRoger that. Begin your run. Let us know when we can limp over to
one of the stationâ s docks.â
âRoger ,â Fred replied. âW eâll find you a nice place to land. Fred out.â
Holden pulled the quick release on his chair âs restraints and floated
toward the ceiling, his body limp.
Okay , Miller . Your turn.
Chapter Fourty
Miller
âOi, Pampaw,â the kid in the crash couch to Miller âs right said. âPopped
seal, you and bang, hey?â
The kidâs combat armor was gray-green, articulated pressure seals at
the joints and stripes across the front plates where a knife or flechette round
had scraped the finish. Behind the face mask, the kid could have been
fifteen. His hand gestures spoke of a childhood spent in vacuum suits, and
his speech was pure Belt creole.
âYeah,â Miller said, raising his arm. âSaw some action recently . Iâll be
fine.â
âFineâ s fine as fine,â the kid said. âBut you hold to the foca, and neto
can pass the air out to you, hey?â
No one on Mars or Earth would have the first clue what youâr e saying,
Miller thought. Shit, half the people on Ceres would be embarrassed by an
accent that thick. No wonder they donâ t mind killing you.
âSounds good to me,â Miller said. âYou go first, and Iâll try to keep
anyone from shooting you in the back.â
The kid grinned. Miller had seen thousands like him. Boys in the
throes of adolescence, working through the normal teenage drive to take
risks and impress girls, but at the same time they lived in the Belt, where
one bad call meant dead. Heâd seen thousands. Heâd arrested hundreds.
Heâd watched a few dozen picked up in hazmat bags.
He leaned forward to look down the long rows of close- packed
The Breach of Thoth Station
- Miller prepares for a high-stakes boarding action alongside Diogo and a hundred OPA militia members aboard the Guy Molinari.
- Despite his physical injuries and lingering nausea, Miller relies on his superior combat experience compared to the young, inexperienced 'rock jumpers.'
- The assault force endures a high-G burn and a cocktail of combat drugs to prepare for immediate corridor-to-corridor fighting.
- Miller experiences a hallucination of Julie Mao, viewing his participation in the suicide mission as a way of taking her place.
- The breaching charge successfully connects the ship to the station, and Miller joins the chaotic surge of soldiers entering the narrow service corridors.
Julie sat on the wall beside him, her hair swirling around her like she was underwater.
No one on Mars or Earth would have the first clue what youâr e saying,
Miller thought. Shit, half the people on Ceres would be embarrassed by an
accent that thick. No wonder they donâ t mind killing you.
âSounds good to me,â Miller said. âYou go first, and Iâll try to keep
anyone from shooting you in the back.â
The kid grinned. Miller had seen thousands like him. Boys in the
throes of adolescence, working through the normal teenage drive to take
risks and impress girls, but at the same time they lived in the Belt, where
one bad call meant dead. Heâd seen thousands. Heâd arrested hundreds.
Heâd watched a few dozen picked up in hazmat bags.
He leaned forward to look down the long rows of close- packed
gimbaled crash couches that lined the gut of the Guy Molinari. Miller âs
rough estimate put the count at between ninety and a hundred of them. So
by dinner , chances were good heâd have seen a couple dozen more die.
âWhatâ s your name, kid?â
âDiogo.â
âMiller ,â he said, and gave the kid his hand to shake. The high-quality
Martian battle armor Miller had taken from the Rocinante let his fingers
flex a lot more than the kidâ s.
The truth was Miller was in no shape for the assault. He was still
getting occasional waves of inexplicable nausea, and his arm ached
whenever the medication level in his blood started thinning out. But he
knew his way around a gun, and he probably knew more about corridor -to-
corridor fighting than nine-tenths of the OPA rock jumpers and ore hogs
like Diogo who were about to go in. It would have to be good enough.
The shipâ s address system clicked once.
âThis is Fred. Weâve had word from air support, and weâre green for
breach in ten minutes. Final checks start now , people.â
Miller sat back in his couch. The clicking and chattering of a hundred
suits of armor , a hundred sidearms, a hundred assault weapons filled the air.
Heâd been over his own enough times now; he didnâ t feel the urge to do it
again.
In a few minute s, the burn would come. The cocktail of high-g drugs
was kept on the ragged edge, since theyâd be going straight from the
couches into a firefight. No point having your assault force more doped
than necessary .
Julie sat on the wall beside him, her hair swirling around her like she
was underwater . He imagined the dappled light flashing across her face.
Portrait of the young pinnace racer as a mermaid. She smiled at the idea,
and Miller smiled back. She would have been here, he knew . Along with
Diogo and Fred and all the other OPA militia, patriots of the vacuum, sheâd
have been in a crash couch, wearing borrowed armor , headi ng into the
station to get herself killed for the greater good. Miller knew he wouldnâ t
have. Not before her . So in a sense, heâd taken her place. Heâd become her .
They made it, Julie said, or maybe only thought. If the ground attack
was going forward, it meant the Rocinante had survivedâat least long
enough to knock out the defens es. Miller nodded, acknowledging her and
letting himself feel a momentâ s pleasure at the idea, and then thrust gravity
pushed him into his couch so hard that his consciousness flicke red, and the
hold around him dimmed. He felt it when the braking burn came, all the
crash couches spinning to face the new up. Needles dug into Miller âs flesh.
Something deep and loud happened, the Guy Molinari ringing like a
gigantic bell. The breaching charge. The world pulled hard to the left, the
couch swinging for the last time as the assault ship matched the stationâ s
spin.
Someone was shouting at him. âGo go go!â Miller lifted his assault
rifle, tapped the sidearm strapped to his thigh, and joined the press of bodies
making for the exit. He missed his hat.
The service corridor theyâd cut into was narrow and dim. The
schematics the Tycho engineers had worked up suggested they wouldnâ t see
The Assault on Thoth
- Miller and the OPA irregulars breach Thoth Station, immediately encountering lethal automated laser defenses.
- The station's interior contrasts sharply with the violence, featuring luxury carpets, ivy spirals, and bonsai trees.
- Fred Johnson, the 'Butcher of Anderson Station,' takes command of the undisciplined Belter militia to prevent them from rushing into traps.
- Protogen security forces utilize advanced ricochet tactics, bouncing low-shrapnel rounds off the station's curved corridors.
- Despite the chaos and potential hearing damage from grenades, Miller finds a strange mental stillness during the heat of the breach.
The next time a defense laser fired, the walls flashed with mad iridescence, and the smoke of burning plastic filled the air, but no one died.
Something deep and loud happened, the Guy Molinari ringing like a
gigantic bell. The breaching charge. The world pulled hard to the left, the
couch swinging for the last time as the assault ship matched the stationâ s
spin.
Someone was shouting at him. âGo go go!â Miller lifted his assault
rifle, tapped the sidearm strapped to his thigh, and joined the press of bodies
making for the exit. He missed his hat.
The service corridor theyâd cut into was narrow and dim. The
schematics the Tycho engineers had worked up suggested they wouldnâ t see
any real resistance until they got into the manned parts of the station. That
had been a bad guess. Miller staggered in with the other OPA soldiers in
time to see an automatic defense laser cut the first rank in half.
âTeam three! Gas it!â Fred snapped in all their ears, and half a dozen
blooms of thick white anti-laser smoke burst into the close air. The next
time a defense laser fired, the walls flashed with mad iridescence, and the
smoke of burning plastic filled the air, but no one died. Miller pressed
forward and up a red metal ramp. A welding charge flared, and a service
door swung open.
The corridors of Thoth station were wide and roomy , with long swaths
of ivy grown in carefully tended spirals, niches every few feet with
tastefully lit bonsai. Soft light the pure white of sunlight made the place feel
like a spa or a rich manâ s private residence. The floors were carpet.
The HUD in his armor flickered, marking the path the assault was
meant to take. Miller âs heart stepped up to a fast, constant flutter , but his
mind seemed to grow perfectly still. At the first intersection, a riot barrier
was manned by a dozen men in Protogen security uniforms. The OPA
troops hung back, using the curve of the ceiling as cover . What suppressing
fire there was came in kneecap low .
The grenades were perfectly round, not even a hole where the pin had
been pulled. They didnâ t roll as well on the soft industrial carpet as they
would have on stone or tiling, so one of the three went off before it reached
the barrier . The concussion was like being hit in the ears with a hammer; the
narrow , sealed corridors channeled the blast back at them almost as much as
at the enemy. But the riot barrie r shattered, and the Protogen security men
fell back.
As they all rushed forward, Miller heard his new, temporary
compatriots whooping with the first taste of victory . The sound was
muffled, as if they were a long way away . Maybe his earpi eces hadnâ t
dampened the blast as much as they were supposed to. Making the rest of
the assault with blown eardrums wouldnâ t be easy .
But then Fred came on, and his voice was clear enough.
âDo not advance! Hold back!â
It was almost enough. The OPA ground force hesitated, Fredâ s orders
pulling at them like a leash. These werenâ t troops. They werenâ t even cops.
They were a Belter irregular militia; discipline and respect for authority
werenâ t natural to them. They slowed. They got careful. So rounding the
corner , they didnâ t walk into the trap.
The next corridor was long and straight, leadingâthe HUD suggested
âto a service ramp up toward the control center . It looked empty , but a
third of the way to the curve horizon, the carpeting started to fly apart in
ragged tufts. One of the boys beside Miller grunted and went down.
âThey are using low-shrapnel rounds and bouncing them off the
curve,â Fred said into all their ears at once. âBank-shot ricochet. Stay low,
and do exactly as I say .â
The calm in the Earther âs voice had more effect than his shoutin g had.
Miller thought he might have been imagining it, but there also seemed to be
a deeper tone. A certainty . The Butcher of Anderson Station doing what he
did best, leading his troops against the tactics and strategies heâd helped
The Siege of Thoth Station
- Fred Johnson leads the OPA forces through the station using his tactical expertise as a former high-ranking commander to counter Protogen's ricochet tactics.
- The station's architecture is revealed to be a hybrid of a luxury spa and a high-security prison, designed with long sight lines to trap intruders in crossfire.
- Miller struggles with his identity as a former lawman when OPA soldiers are forced to kill unarmored civilians who attack them during the assault.
- A moment of distraction nearly costs Diogo his life, but he survives a direct hit thanks to his armor, highlighting the chaotic and lethal nature of the corridor fighting.
The air sang, and Diogo went down, his head snapping back as he fell.
âto a service ramp up toward the control center . It looked empty , but a
third of the way to the curve horizon, the carpeting started to fly apart in
ragged tufts. One of the boys beside Miller grunted and went down.
âThey are using low-shrapnel rounds and bouncing them off the
curve,â Fred said into all their ears at once. âBank-shot ricochet. Stay low,
and do exactly as I say .â
The calm in the Earther âs voice had more effect than his shoutin g had.
Miller thought he might have been imagining it, but there also seemed to be
a deeper tone. A certainty . The Butcher of Anderson Station doing what he
did best, leading his troops against the tactics and strategies heâd helped
create back when heâd been the enemy .
Slowly , the OPA forces moved forward, up one level, and then the
next, then the next. The air grew hazy with smoke and ablate d paneling.
The wide corridors opened into broad plazas and squares, as airy as prison
yards, with the Protogen forces in the guard towers. The side corridors were
locked down, local security trying to channel them into situations where
they could be caught in crossfire.
It didnâ t work. The OPA forced open the doors, taking cover in
display-rich rooms, something between lecture halls and manufacturing
complexes. Twice, unarmored civilians, still at their work despite the
ongoing assault, attacked them when they entered. The OPA boys mowed
them down. Part of Miller âs mindâthe part that was still a cop and not a
soldierâtwitched at that. They were civilians. Killing them was, at the very
least, bad form. But then Julie whispered in the back of his mind, No one
here is innocent, and he had to agree.
The operations center was a third of the way up the stationâ s slight
gravity well, defended better than anything they had seen so far. Miller and
five others, directed by the all-knowing voice of Fred, took cover in a
narrow service corridor , keepin g a steady suppressing fire up the main
corridor toward ops, and making sure no Protogen counterattack would go
unanswered. Miller checked his assault weapon and was surprised to see
how much ammunition was left.
âOi, Pampaw ,â the kid next to him said, and Miller smiled, recognizing
Diogoâ s voice behind the face mask. âDayâ s the day , passa?â
âIâve seen wors e,â Miller agreed, then paused. He tried to scratch his
injured elbow , but the armor plates kept anything satisfying from
happening.
âBeccas tu?â Diogo asked.
âNo, Iâm fine. Itâs just⌠this place. I donât get it. It looks like a spa,
and itâ s built like a prison.â
The boyâs hands shifted in query. Miller shook his fist in response,
thinking through the ideas as he spoke.
âItâs all long sight lines and locked-down side passages,â Miller said.
âIf I was going to build a place like this, Iâdââ
The air sang, and Diogo went down, his head snapping back as he fell.
Miller yelped and wheeled. Behind them in the side corridor , two figures in
Protogen security uniform dove for cover . Something hissed through the air
by Millerâs left ear. Something else bounced off the breastplate of his fancy
Martian armor like a hammer blow . He didnâ t think about raising his assault
weapon; it was just there, coughing out return fire like an extension of his
will. The other three OP A soldiers turned to help.
âGet back,â Miller barked. âKeep your fucking eyes on the main
corridor! Iâm on this.â
Stupid, Miller told himself, stupid to let them get behind us. Stupid to
stop and talk in the middle of a firefight. He shou ld have known better , and
now, because heâd lost focus, the boy wasâŚ
Laughing?
Diogo sat up, lifted his own assault weapon, and peppered the side
corridor with rounds. He got unsteadily to his feet, then whooped like a
child whoâd just gotten off a thrill ride. A wide streak of white goo
stretched from his collarbone up across the right side of his face mask.
Behind it, Diogo was grinning. Miller shook his head.
The Breach of Thoth Station
- Miller and Diogo survive a close encounter with non-lethal crowd suppression rounds during the chaotic push through the station.
- The OPA assault nearly falters due to overcrowding and poor coordination until Miller steps in to clear space for the technical teams.
- A specialized tech uses a cutting torch and hydraulic jacks to breach the final blast doors leading to the station's command center.
- The operation culminates in the capture of the ops center and the discovery of the high-ranking Protogen figure, Mr. Dresden.
- Fred Johnson transitions from engineer to general, officially taking control of the station as his techs lock down the systems.
How many battles, all through history, fell apart at moments like this? he wondered. The victory all but delivered until allied forces started tripping over each other.
Stupid, Miller told himself, stupid to let them get behind us. Stupid to
stop and talk in the middle of a firefight. He shou ld have known better , and
now, because heâd lost focus, the boy wasâŚ
Laughing?
Diogo sat up, lifted his own assault weapon, and peppered the side
corridor with rounds. He got unsteadily to his feet, then whooped like a
child whoâd just gotten off a thrill ride. A wide streak of white goo
stretched from his collarbone up across the right side of his face mask.
Behind it, Diogo was grinning. Miller shook his head.
âWhat the hell are they using crowd suppression rounds for?â he said
to himself as much as the boy . âThey think this a riot?â
âForward teams,â Fred said in Miller âs ear, âget ready . Weâre moving
in five. Four . Three. T wo. Go!â
We donât know what weâre getting into here, Miller thought as he
joined the sprint down the corridor , pressing toward the assaultâ s final
target. A wide ramp led up to a set of blast doors done in wood-grain
veneer . Something detonated behind them, but Miller kept his head low and
didnâ t look back. The press of bodies jostling in their ragtag armor grew
thicker , and Miller stumbled on something soft. A body in Protogen
uniform.
âGive us some room!â a woman at the front shouted. Miller pushed
toward her, cutting through the crowd of OPA soldiers with his shoulder
and elbow . The woman shouted again as he reached her .
âWhatâ s the problem?â Miller shouted.
âI canât cut through this bitch with all these dick-lickers pushing me,â
she said, lifting a cutting torch already glowing white at the edge. Miller
nodded and slid his assault rifle into the sling on his back. He grabbed two
of the nearest shoulders, shook the men until they noticed him, and then
locked his elbows with theirs.
âJust need to give the techs some room,â Miller said, and together they
waded into their own men, pushing them back. How many battles, all
through history , fell apart at moments like this? he wondered. The victory
all but deliver ed until allied forces started tripping over each other . The
welder popped to life behind him, the heat pressing at his back like a hand
even in armor .
At the edge of the crowd, automatic weapons gur gled and choked.
âHowâ s it going back there?â Miller shouted over his shoulder .
The woman didnâ t answer . Hours seemed to pass, though it couldnâ t
have been more than five minu tes. The haze of hot metal and aerosolized
plastic filled the air .
The welding torch turned off with a pop. Over his shoulder , Miller saw
the bulkhead sag and shift. The tech placed a card-thin jack into the gap
between plates, activated it, and stood back. The station around them
groaned as a new set of pressures and strains reshaped the metal. The
bulkhead opened.
âCome on,â Miller shouted, then tucked his head and moved through
the new passageway , up a carpeted ramp, and into the ops center. A dozen
men and women looked up from their stations, eyes wide with fear .
âYouâre under arrest!â Miller shouted as the OPA soldiers boiled in
around him. âWell, no youâre not, but⌠shit. Put your hands up and back
away from the controls!â
One of the menâtall as a Belter , but built solid as a man in full gravity
âsighed. He wore a good suit, linen and raw silk, without the lines and
folds that spoke of computer tailoring.
âDo what they say,â the linen suit said. He sounded peeved, but not
frightened.
Miller âs eyes narrowed.
âMr. Dresden?â
The suit raised a carefully shaped eyebrow , paused, and nodded.
âBeen looking for you,â Miller said.
Fred walked into the ops center like he belonged there. With a tighter set of
the shou lders and a degreeâ s shift of the spine, the master engineer of Tycho
Station was gone, and the general was in his place. He looked over the ops
center , sucking in every detail with a flicker of his eyes, then nodded at one
of the senior OP A techs.
âAll locked down, sir ,â the tech said. âThe stationâ s yours.â
The General and the Scientist
- Fred Johnson assumes command of the captured station, shedding his engineer persona to reveal the seasoned general beneath.
- Miller observes a moment of spiritual absolution in Fred, who seems to find redemption for his violent past by securing the station.
- Dresden, the lead scientist, remains unfazed by the armed takeover and attempts to bribe Fred into leaving with money or weapons.
- The exchange highlights a massive moral divide, as Dresden dismisses the atrocities on Eros as mere work to be resumed.
- Fred rejects the offer of amnesty and riches, comparing Dresden's proposal to a devilish temptation for worship.
Decades ago, this manâyounger, fitter, not as much gray in his hairâhad taken a space station, wading up to his knees in the gore and death of Belters, and Miller saw the barely perceptible relaxation in his jaw, the opening of his chest that meant that burden had lifted.
The suit raised a carefully shaped eyebrow , paused, and nodded.
âBeen looking for you,â Miller said.
Fred walked into the ops center like he belonged there. With a tighter set of
the shou lders and a degreeâ s shift of the spine, the master engineer of Tycho
Station was gone, and the general was in his place. He looked over the ops
center , sucking in every detail with a flicker of his eyes, then nodded at one
of the senior OP A techs.
âAll locked down, sir ,â the tech said. âThe stationâ s yours.â
Miller had almost never been present to witness another manâ s
moment of absolution. It was such a rare thing, and so utterly private that it
approached the spiritual. Decad es ago, this manâyounger , fitter , not as
much gray in his hairâhad taken a space station, wading up to his knees in
the gore and death of Belters , and Miller saw the barely perceptible
relaxation in his jaw, the opening of his chest that meant that burden had
lifted. Maybe it wasnâ t gone, but it was near enough. It was more than most
people managed in a lifetime.
He wondered what it would feel like if he ever got the chance.
âMiller?â Fred said. âI hear youâve got someone weâd like to talk to.â
Dresden unfolde d from his chair , ignoring the sidearms and assault
weapons as if such things didnâ t apply to him.
âColonel Johnso n,â Dresden said. âI should have expected that a man
of your caliber would be behind all this. My name is Dresden.â
He handed Fred a matte black business card. Fred took it as if by reflex
but didnâ t look at it.
âYouâre the one responsible for this?â
Dresden gave him a chilly smile and looked around before he
answered.
âIâd say youâre responsible for at least part of it,â Dresden said.
âYouâve just killed quite a few people who were simply doing their jobs.
But maybe we can dispense with the moral finger -pointing and get down to
what actually matters?â
Fredâ s smile reached all the way to his eyes.
âAnd what exactly would that be?â
âNegotiating terms,â Dresden replied. âYou are a man of expe rience.
You understand that your victory here puts you in an untenable position.
Protogen is one of the most powerful corporations on Earth. The OPA has
attacked it, and the longer you try to hold it, the worse the reprisals will be.â
âIs that so?â
âOf course it is,â Dresden said, waving Fredâ s tone away with a
dismissing hand. Miller shook his head. The man genuinely didnâ t
understand what was going on. âYouâve taken your hostages. Well, here we
are. We can wait until Earth sends a few dozen battleships and negotiate
while you look down the barrels, or we can end this now .â
âYouâre asking me⌠how much money I want to take my people and
just leave,â Fred said.
âIf moneyâ s what you want,â Dresden said with a shrug. âWeapons.
Ordinance. Medical supplies. Whatever it is you need to prosecute your
little war and get this over with quickly .â
âI know what you did on Eros,â Fred said quietly .
Dresden chuckled. The sound made Miller âs flesh crawl.
âMr. Johnson,â Dresden said. âNobody knows what we did on Eros.
And every minute I have to spend playing games with you is one I canât use
more productiv ely elsewhere. I will swear this: You are in the best
bargaining posit ion right now that you will ever have. There is no incentive
for you to draw this out.â
âAnd youâre of fering?â
Dresden spread his hands. âAnything you like and amnesty besides. As
long as it gets you out of here and lets us return to our work. W e both win.â
Fred laughed. It was mirthless.
âLet me get this straight,â he said. âYouâll give me all the kingd oms of
the Earth if I just bow down and do one act of worship for you?â
Dresden cocked his head. âI donâ t know the reference.â
Chapter Fourty-One
Holden
The Rocinante docked with Thoth station on the last gasps from her
maneuvering thrusters. Holden felt the stationâ s docking clamps grab the
The Cost of Victory
- The Rocinante successfully docks with Thoth station despite sustaining catastrophic damage from a plasma warhead and gauss cannon rounds.
- The crew is forced to perform a tethered spacewalk to the station because the ship's airlocks are welded shut and the internal oxygen supply has been vented.
- Holden experiences a sense of grim satisfaction and a lack of remorse as OPA soldiers begin storming the station to eliminate those responsible for the Eros tragedy.
- A preliminary assessment of the ship reveals millions of dollars in damages, including holes through the hull and a compromised life support system.
The moral complexity of the situation had grown past his ability to process it, so he just relaxed in the warm glow of victory instead.
Dresden spread his hands. âAnything you like and amnesty besides. As
long as it gets you out of here and lets us return to our work. W e both win.â
Fred laughed. It was mirthless.
âLet me get this straight,â he said. âYouâll give me all the kingd oms of
the Earth if I just bow down and do one act of worship for you?â
Dresden cocked his head. âI donâ t know the reference.â
Chapter Fourty-One
Holden
The Rocinante docked with Thoth station on the last gasps from her
maneuvering thrusters. Holden felt the stationâ s docking clamps grab the
hull with a thud, and then gravi ty returned at a low one-third g. The close
detonation of a plasma warhea d had torn off the outer door of the crew
airlock and flooded the chamber with superheated gas, effectively welding
it shut. That meant theyâd be using the cargo airlock at the stern of the ship
and spacewalking over to the station.
That was fine; they were still in their suits. The Roci had more holes
now than the air cycling system could keep up with, and their shipboard O2
supply had been vented into space by the same explosion that killed the
airlock.
Alex dropped from the cockpit , face hidden by his helmet, his belly
unmistakable even in his atmo sphere suit. Naomi finished locking her
station and powering down the ship, then joined Alex, and the three of them
climbed down the crew ladder to the shipâ s aft. Amos was waiting there,
buckling an EVA pack onto his suit and charging it with compressed
nitrogen from a storage tank. The mechanic had assured Hold en that the
EVA maneuvering pack had enough thrust to overcome the stationâ s spin
and get them back up to an airlock.
No one spoke. Holden had expe cted banter . Heâd expected to want to
banter . But the damaged Roci seemed to call for silence. Maybe awe.
Holden leaned against the cargo bay bulkhead and closed his eyes. The
only sounds he could hear were the steady hiss of his air supply and the
faint static of the comm. He could smell nothing through his broken and
blood-clogged nose, and his mouth was filled with a coppery taste. But
even so, he couldnâ t keep a smile of f his face.
Theyâd won. Theyâd flown right up to Protogen, taken everything the
evil bastards could throw at them, and bloodied their noses. Even now OPA
soldiers were storming their station, shooting the people whoâd helped kill
Eros.
Holden decided that he was okay with not feeling any remorse for
them. The mora l complexity of the situation had grown past his ability to
process it, so he just relaxed in the warm glow of victory instead.
The comm chirped and Amos said, âReady to move.â
Holden nodded, remembered he was still in his atmosphere suit, and
said, âOkay . Hook on, everyone.â
He, Alex, and Naomi pulled tethers from their suits and clamped them
to Amosâ broad waist. Amos cycled the cargo airlock and flew out the door
on puffs of gas. They were immediately hurled away from the ship by
station spin, but Amos quickly got them under control and flew back up
toward Thothâ s emer gency airlock.
As Amo s flew them past the Roci, Holden studied the outside of the
ship and tried to catalog repair requirements. There were a dozen holes in
both her bow and aft that corresponded to holes all along the inside of the
ship. The gauss cannon rounds the interceptor had fired probably hadnâ t
even slowed appreciably on their path through the Roci. The crew was just
lucky none of them had found the reactor and punched a hole in it.
There was also a huge dent in the false superstructure that made the
ship look like a compressed gas freighter . Holden knew it would match an
equally ugly wound in the armo red outer hull. The damage hadn ât extended
to the inner hull, or the ship would have cracked in two.
With the damage to the airlock, and the total loss of their oxygen
storage tanks and recycling systems, there would be millions of dollars in
Aftermath and Assault
- The Rocinante has sustained severe structural damage, including the loss of oxygen systems and a compromised outer hull, requiring extensive repairs.
- Holden and his crew board the station to find the OPA has successfully breached the facility despite fierce resistance from Protogen security.
- Holden experiences personal physical toll from the conflict, including a broken nose and a lingering gunshot wound to his leg.
- The corridor leading to the operations center is a scene of carnage, filled with the bodies of OPA soldiers, security personnel, and scientists.
- Holden feels a deep-seated contempt for the station's scientists, viewing their horrific experiments on Eros as an unforgivable crime against humanity.
The security guys had maybe made a bad decision in going to work for the wrong team, but the scientists on this station had killed a million and a half people just to see what would happen.
even slowed appreciably on their path through the Roci. The crew was just
lucky none of them had found the reactor and punched a hole in it.
There was also a huge dent in the false superstructure that made the
ship look like a compressed gas freighter . Holden knew it would match an
equally ugly wound in the armo red outer hull. The damage hadn ât extended
to the inner hull, or the ship would have cracked in two.
With the damage to the airlock, and the total loss of their oxygen
storage tanks and recycling systems, there would be millions of dollars in
damage and weeks in dry dock, assuming they could make it to a dry dock
somewhere.
Maybe the Molinari could give them a tow .
Amos flashed the EVA packâ s yellow warning lights three times, and
the stationâs emer gency airlock door cycled open. He flew them inside,
where four Belters in combat armor waited.
As soon as the airlock finished cycling, Holden pulled his helmet off
and touched his nose. It felt twice its normal size and throbbed with every
heartbeat.
Naomi reached out and held his face still, her thumbs on either side of
his nose, her touch surprisingly gentle. She turned his head from side to
side, examining the injury , then let go.
âItâll be crooked without some cosmetic surgery,â she said. âBut you
were too pretty before anyway . Itâll give your face character .â
Holden felt a slow grin coming on, but before he could reply , one of
the OP A troops started talking.
âWatched the fight, hermano. Y ou guys really kicked some ass.â
âThanks,â said Alex. âHowâ s it goinâ in here?â
The soldier with the most stars on his OPA insignia said, âLess
resistance than expected, but the Protogen securityâ s been fighting for every
foot of real estate. Even some of the egg-heads have been coming at us.
Weâve had to shoot a few .â
He pointed at the inner airlock door .
âFredâ s heading up to ops. W ants you people up there, pronto.â
âLead the way ,â Holden replied, his nose turning it into lee da way .
âHowâ s that leg, Cap?â Amos asked as they walked along the station
corridor . Holden realized heâd forgotten about the limp his gunshot to the
calf had left him.
âDoesnâ t hurt, but the muscle doesnâ t flex as much,â he replied.
âYours?â
Amos grinned and glanced down at the leg that still limped from the
fracture heâd suf fered on the Donnager months earlier .
âNo biggie,â he said. âThe ones that donâ t kill you donâ t count.â
Holden started to reply , then stopped when the group rounded a corner
into a slaughter house. They were clearly coming up behind the assault
team, because now the corridor floor was littered with bodie s, the walls
with bullet holes and scorch marks. To his relief, Holden saw a lot more
bodies in Protogen security armor than in OPA gear. But there were enough
dead Belters on the floor to make his stomach twist. When he passed a dead
man in a lab coat, he had to stop himself from spitting on the floor . The
security guys had maybe made a bad decision in going to work for the
wrong team, but the scientists on this station had killed a million and a half
people just to see what would happen. They couldnâ t be dead enough for
Holdenâ s comfort.
Something tugged at him, and he paused. Lying next to the dead
scientist was what looked like a kitchen knife.
âHuh,â Holden said. âHe didnâ t come at you guys with that, did he?â
âYeah, crazy, no?â said one of their escorts. âI heard of bringing a
knife to a gunfight, butâŚâ
âOps is up ahead,â said the ranking trooper . âGeneralâ s waiting.â
Holden entered the stationsâ ops center and saw Fred, Miller , a bunch of
OPA troops, and one stranger in an expensive-looking suit. A line of
technicians and operations staff in Protogen uniform had their wrists cuffed
Confronting the Architect
- Holden and the OPA forces successfully seize the Protogen operations center, capturing the station's staff and executive leadership.
- Antony Dresden, the architect of the Eros project, is introduced as a calm and condescending figure despite being surrounded by armed boarders.
- Holden questions the unusual security choices of the station, noting that many guards were equipped with non-lethal riot control gear.
- Dresden maintains an air of intellectual superiority, dismissing Holden's understanding of the protomolecule while admitting the capture of the Anubis nearly derailed their timeline.
The bastard had no right to be comfortable. Condescending. Holden wanted the man terrified, begging for his life, not sneering behind his cultured accent.
Something tugged at him, and he paused. Lying next to the dead
scientist was what looked like a kitchen knife.
âHuh,â Holden said. âHe didnâ t come at you guys with that, did he?â
âYeah, crazy, no?â said one of their escorts. âI heard of bringing a
knife to a gunfight, butâŚâ
âOps is up ahead,â said the ranking trooper . âGeneralâ s waiting.â
Holden entered the stationsâ ops center and saw Fred, Miller , a bunch of
OPA troops, and one stranger in an expensive-looking suit. A line of
technicians and operations staff in Protogen uniform had their wrists cuffed
and were being led away . The room was covered deck to ceiling in screens
and monitors, most of which were spooling text data too fast to read.
âLet me get this straight,â Fred was saying. âYouâll give me all the
kingdoms of the Earth if I just bow down and do one act of worship for
you?â
âI donâ t know the reference,â the stranger said.
Whatever else they were about to say stopped when Miller noticed
Holden and tapped Fred on the shoulder . Holden could swear that the
detective gave him a warm smile, though on his dour face it was hard to
tell.
âJim,â Fred said, then gestured for him to come closer . He was reading
a matte black business card. âMeet Antony Dresden, executive VP of bio
research for Protogen, and the architect of the Eros project.â
The asshole in the suit actually reached out like he was going to shake
hands. Holden ignored him.
âFred,â he said. âCasualties?â
âShockingly low .â
âHalf their secur ity had non-lethals,â Miller said. âRiot control. Sticky
rounds. Like that.â
Holden nodded and then shook his head and frowned.
âI saw a lot of Protogen security bodies out there in the corrido r. Why
have so many guys and then give them weapons that canâ t repel boarders?â
âGood question,â Miller agreed.
Dresden chuckled.
âThis is what I mean, Mr. Johnson,â Dresden said. He turned to
Holden. âJim? Well then, Jim. The fact that you donât understand this
stationâ s security needs tells me that you have no idea what youâve become
involved with. And I think you know that as well as I do. As I was saying to
Fred hereââ
âAntony , you need to shut the fuck up,â Holden said, surprised by the
sudden flush of anger . Dresden looked disappointed.
The bastard had no right to be comfortable. Condescending. Holden
wanted the man terrified, begging for his life, not sneering behind his
cultured accent.
âAmos, if he talks to me again without being told to, break his jaw .â
âMy pleasure, Captain,â Amos said, and took half a step forward.
Dresden smirked at the ham-fisted threat but kept his mouth shut.
âWhat do we know?â Holden asked, aiming the question at Fred.
âWe know the Eros data is coming here, and we know this piece of shit
is in char ge. W eâll know more once weâve taken the place apart.â
Holden turned to look at Dresden again, taking in the blue blood
European good looks, the gym-sculpted physique, the expensive haircut.
Even now, surrounded by men with guns, Dresden managed to look like he
was in charge. Holden could imagine him glancing down at his watch and
wondering how much more of his expensive time this boarding party was
going to take.
Holden said, âI need to ask him something.â
Fred nodded. âY ou earned it.â
âWhy?â Holden asked. âI want to know why .â
Dresdenâ s smile was almost pitying, and he stuck his hands into his
pockets as casually as a man talking sports at a dockside bar .
ââWhyâ is a very big question,â Dresden said. âBecause God wanted it
that way? Or perhaps you want to narrow it for me.â
âWhy Eros?â
âWell, Jimââ
âYou can call me Captain Holden. Iâm the guy that found your lost
ship, so Iâve seen the video from Phoebe. I know what the protomolecule
is.â
âReally!â Dresd en said, his smile becoming half a degree more
genuine. âI have you to thank for turning the viral agent over to us on Eros.
Losing the Anubis was going to put our timeline back months. Finding the
The Logic of Gods
- Dresden dismisses the death of 1.5 million people on Eros as an insignificant 'rounding error' compared to the historical scale of Genghis Khan's conquests.
- The protomolecule is revealed as a two-billion-year-old alien machine capable of altering host organisms at a molecular level.
- Dresden argues that humanity is in a desperate race to catch up to a god-like civilization that sent the viral agent to Earth eons ago.
- Holden realizes that Dresdenâs persuasive, practiced rhetoric is likely what secured the massive corporate and political backing for the Protogen project.
Building humanityâs greatest empire is like building the worldâs largest anthill.
Dresdenâ s smile was almost pitying, and he stuck his hands into his
pockets as casually as a man talking sports at a dockside bar .
ââWhyâ is a very big question,â Dresden said. âBecause God wanted it
that way? Or perhaps you want to narrow it for me.â
âWhy Eros?â
âWell, Jimââ
âYou can call me Captain Holden. Iâm the guy that found your lost
ship, so Iâve seen the video from Phoebe. I know what the protomolecule
is.â
âReally!â Dresd en said, his smile becoming half a degree more
genuine. âI have you to thank for turning the viral agent over to us on Eros.
Losing the Anubis was going to put our timeline back months. Finding the
infected body already there on the station was a godsend.â
I knew it. I fucking knew it, Holden thought. Out loud, he said, âWhy?â
âYou know what the agent is,â Dresden said, at a loss for the first time
since Holden had come into the room. âI donât know what more I can tell
you. This is the most important thing to ever happen to the human race. Itâs
simultaneously proof that we are not alone in the universe, and our ticket
out of the limitations that bind us to our little bubbles of rock and air .â
âYou arenâ t answering me,â Holden said, hating the way his broken
nose made his voice slightly comical when he wanted to be threatening. âI
want to know why you killed a million and a half people.â
Fred cleared his throat, but he didnâ t interrupt. Dresden looked from
Holden to the colonel and back again.
âI am answering, Captain. A millio n and a half people is small
potatoes. What weâre working with here is bigger than that,â Dresden said,
then moved over to a chair and sat down, pulling up his pants leg as he
crossed his knees, so as not to stretch the fabric. âAre you familiar with
Genghis Khan?â
âWhat?â Holden and Fred said at almost the same instant. Miller only
stared at Dresde n with a blank expression, tapping the barrel of his pistol
against his own armored thigh.
âGenghis Khan. There are some historians who claim that Genghis
Kahn killed or displaced one quarter of the total human population of Earth
during his conquest,â Dresden said. âHe did that in pursuit of an empire that
would begin falling apart as soon as he died. In todayâ s scale, that would
mean killing nearly ten billion people in order to affect a generation. A
generation and a half. Eros isnâ t even a rounding error by comparison.â
âYou really donâ t care,â Fred said, his voice quiet.
âAnd unlike Khan, we arenâ t doing it to build a brief empire. I know
what you think. That weâre trying to aggrandize ourselves. Grab power .â
âYou donâ t want to?â Holden said.
âOf course we do.â Dresdenâ s voice was cutting. âBut youâre thinking
too small. Building humanityâ s greatest empire is like building the worldâ s
largest anthill. Insignificant. There is a civilization out there that built the
protomolecule and hurled it at us over two billion years ago. They were
already gods at that point. What have they become since then? W ith another
two billion years to advance?â
With a growing dread, Holden listened to Dresden speak. This speech
had the air of something spoken before. Perhaps many times. And it had
worked. It had convinced powerful people. It was why Protogen had stealth
ships from the Earth shipyards and seemingly limitless behind-the-scenes
support.
âWe have a terrifying amount of catching up to do, gentl emen,â
Dresden was saying. âBut fortunately we have the tool of our enemy to use
in doing it.â
âCatching up?â a soldier to Holdenâs left said. Dresden nodded at the
man and smiled.
âThe protomolec ule can alter the host organism at the molecula r level;
it can create genetic change on the fly. Not just DNA, but any stable
replicator . But it is only a machine. It doesnâ t think. It follows instructions.
If we learn how to alter that programming, then we become the architects of
that change.â
Holden interrupted. âIf it was supposed to wipe out life on Earth and
The Architect of Evolution
- Dresden argues that the protomolecule is a programmable machine capable of altering genetic structures at a molecular level.
- He envisions a future where humans use the molecule to transcend biological limits, surviving in space without suits or oxygen.
- To facilitate the horrific experiments on Eros, Dresden reveals that his entire science team was neurologically modified to remove ethical restraints.
- Dresden justifies his atrocities as a necessary evolution to prepare humanity for an inevitable encounter with god-like alien entities.
We modified our science team to remove ethical restraints.
Dresden was saying. âBut fortunately we have the tool of our enemy to use
in doing it.â
âCatching up?â a soldier to Holdenâs left said. Dresden nodded at the
man and smiled.
âThe protomolec ule can alter the host organism at the molecula r level;
it can create genetic change on the fly. Not just DNA, but any stable
replicator . But it is only a machine. It doesnâ t think. It follows instructions.
If we learn how to alter that programming, then we become the architects of
that change.â
Holden interrupted. âIf it was supposed to wipe out life on Earth and
replace it with whatever the protomoleculeâ s creators wanted, why turn it
loose?â
âExcellent question,â Dresden said, holding up one finger like a
college professor about to deliver a lecture. âThe protomolecule doesnâ t
come with a user âs manual. In fact, weâve never before been able to actually
watch it carry out its program. The molecule requires significant mass
before it develops enough processing power to fulfill its directives.
Whatever they are.â
Dresden pointed at the screens covered with data around them.
âWe are going to watch it at work. See what it intends to do. How it
goes about doing it. And, hope fully, learn how to change that program in
the process.â
âYou could do that with a vat of bacteria,â Holden said.
âIâm not interested in remaking bacteria,â Dresden said.
âYouâre fucking insane,â Amos said, and took another step toward
Dresden. Holden put a hand on the big mechanicâ s shoulder .
âSo,â Holden said. âYou figure out how the bug works, and then
what?â
âThen everything. Belters who can work outside a ship without
wearing a suit. Humans capable of sleeping for hundreds of years at a time
flying colony ships to the stars. No longer being bound to the millions of
years of evoluti on inside one atmosphere of pressure at one g, slaves to
oxygen and water . We decide what we want to be, and we reprogram
ourselves to be that. Thatâ s what the protomolecule gives us.â
Dresden had stood back up as heâd delivered this speech, his face
shining with the zeal of a prophet.
âWhat we are doing is the best and only hope of humanityâ s survival.
When we go out there, we will be facing gods. â
âAnd if we donâ t go out?â Fred asked. He sounded thoughtful.
âTheyâve already fired a doomsday weapon at us once,â Dresden said.
The room was silent for a moment. Holden felt his certainty slip. He
hated everything about Dresden âs argument, but he couldnâ t quite see his
way past it. He knew in his bones that something about it was dead wrong,
but he couldnâ t find the words.
Naomiâ s voice startled him.
âDid it convince them?â she asked.
âExcuse me?â Dresden said.
âThe scientists. The technicians. Everyone you needed to make it
happen. They actually had to do this. They had to watch the video of people
dying all over Eros. They had to design those radioactive murder chambers.
So unles s you managed to round up every serial killer in the solar system
and send them through a postgraduate program, how did you do this?â
âWe modified our science team to remove ethical restraints.â
Half a dozen clues clicked into place in Holdenâ s head.
âSociopaths,â he said. âY ou turned them into sociopaths.â
âHigh-functioning sociopaths,â Dresden said with a nod. He seemed
pleased to explain it. âAnd extremely curious ones. As long as we kept
them supplied with interesting problems to solve and unlimited resources,
they remained quite content.â
âAnd a big security team armed with riot control rounds for when they
arenâ t,â Fred said.
âYes, there are occasional issues,â Dresden said. He looked around, the
slightest frown creasing his forehead. âI know . You think itâ s monstrous, but
I am saving the human race. I am giving humanity the stars. You
disapprove? Fine. Let me ask you this. Can you save Eros? Right now .â
âNo,â Fred said, âbut we canââ
âWaste the data,â Dresden said. âYou can make certain that every man,
The Execution of Dresden
- Dresden attempts to justify the atrocities on Eros by claiming his research is essential for the survival and advancement of the human race.
- Miller abruptly ends Dresden's negotiation by shooting him multiple times, bypassing any legal process or trial.
- Holden is horrified by the extrajudicial killing, leading to a major rift between him and Miller that results in Miller's expulsion from the Rocinante.
- Fred Johnson maintains a pragmatic stance, focusing on securing the station's data and prisoners while offering Miller a ride back to Tycho Station.
Dresdenâs head snapped back, blooming red. Blood spattered a wide screen, obscuring the data stream.
they remained quite content.â
âAnd a big security team armed with riot control rounds for when they
arenâ t,â Fred said.
âYes, there are occasional issues,â Dresden said. He looked around, the
slightest frown creasing his forehead. âI know . You think itâ s monstrous, but
I am saving the human race. I am giving humanity the stars. You
disapprove? Fine. Let me ask you this. Can you save Eros? Right now .â
âNo,â Fred said, âbut we canââ
âWaste the data,â Dresden said. âYou can make certain that every man,
woman, and child who died on Eros died for nothing.â
The room was silent. Fred was frowning, his arms crossed. Holden
understood the struggle going on in the manâ s mind. Everything Dresden
said was repulsive and eerie and rang too much of the truth.
âOr,â Dresden said, âwe can negotiate a price, you can go on your way ,
and I canââ
âOkay . Thatâs enough,â Miller said, speaking for the first time since
Dresden had begun his pitch. Holden glanced over at the detective. His flat
expression had gone stony . He wasnâ t tapping the barrel of his pistol against
his leg.
Oh, shit.
Chapter Fourty-T wo
Miller
Dresden didnâ t see it coming. Even as Miller raised the pistol, the manâ s
eyes didnâ t register a threat. All he saw was Miller with an object in his
hand that happened to be a gun. A dog would have known to be scared, but
not Dresden.
âMiller!â Holden shouted from a great distance. âDonâ t!â
Pulling the trigger was simple. A soft click, the bounce of metal
against his glove-cushioned palm, and then again two more times.
Dresdenâ s head snapped back, blooming red. Blood spattered a wide screen,
obscuring the data stream. Mille r stepped close, fired two more rounds into
Dresdenâ s chest, considered for a moment, then holstered the pistol.
The room was silent. The OPA soldiers were all looking at each other
or at Miller , surprised, even after the press of the assault, by the sudden
violence. Naom i and Amos were looking at Holden, and the captain was
staring at the corpse. Holdenâ s injured face was set as a mask; fury, outrage,
maybe even despair . Miller understood that. Doing the obvious thing still
wasnâ t natural for Holden. There had been a time when it hadnâ t come so
easily for Miller either .
Only Fred didnâ t flinch or look nervous. The colonel didnâ t smile or
frown, and he didnâ t look away .
âWhat the fuck was that?â Holden said through his blood-plugged
nose. âY ou shot him in cold blood!â
âYeah,â Miller said.
Holden shook his head. âWhat about a trial? What about justice? You
just decide, and thatâ s the way it goes?â
âIâm a cop,â Miller said, surprised by the apology in his voice.
âAre you even human anymore?â
âAll right, gentlemen!â Fred said, his voice booming out in the quiet.
âShowâ s over. Letâs get back to work. I want the decryption team in here.
Weâve got prisoners to evacuate and a station to strip down.â
Holden looked from Fred to Miller to the still-dying Dresden. His jaw
was set with rage.
âHey , Miller ,â Holden said.
âYeah?â Miller said softly . He knew what was coming.
âFind your own ride home,â the captain of the Rocinante said, then
spun and stalked out of the room, his crew following. Miller watched them
walk away. Regret tapped gently at his heart, but there was nothing to be
done about it. The broken bulkhead seemed to swallow them. Miller turned
to Fred.
âHitch a lift?â
âYouâre wearing our colors,â Fred said. âWeâll get you as far as
Tycho.â
âI appreciate that,â Miller said. Then, a moment later: âYou know it
had to be done.â
Fred didnâ t reply . There wasnâ t anything to say .
Thoth Station was injured, but not dead. Not yet. Word of the sociopathic
crew spread fast, and the OPA forces took the warning to heart. The
occupation and control phase of the attack lasted forty hours instead of the
twenty that it would have taken with normal prisoners. With humans. Miller
The Calculus of Posthumanity
- The OPA successfully occupies Thoth Station, though the process is slowed by the sociopathic nature of the Protogen captives.
- Miller utilizes his years of police experience to manage prisoners, finding hidden weapons that the inexperienced OPA recruits missed.
- The station is systematically stripped of its technology, medical supplies, and personnel before any inner planet response can arrive.
- Miller reflects on the term 'posthuman,' questioning if he himself lost his humanity long before encountering the protomolecule.
- Exhausted and slipping into psychosis, Miller experiences a haunting vision of Julie Mao as he flees the skeletonized station.
The thrust gravity was like a pillow over his face.
âYouâre wearing our colors,â Fred said. âWeâll get you as far as
Tycho.â
âI appreciate that,â Miller said. Then, a moment later: âYou know it
had to be done.â
Fred didnâ t reply . There wasnâ t anything to say .
Thoth Station was injured, but not dead. Not yet. Word of the sociopathic
crew spread fast, and the OPA forces took the warning to heart. The
occupation and control phase of the attack lasted forty hours instead of the
twenty that it would have taken with normal prisoners. With humans. Miller
did what he could with prisoner control.
The OPA kids were well inten tioned, but most of them had never
worked with captive populatio ns before. They didnâ t know how to cuff
someone at the wrist and elbow so that the perp couldnâ t get his hands out
in front to strangle them. They didnâ t know how to restrain someone with a
length of cord around the neck so that the prisoner couldnâ t choke himself
to death, by accident or intention ally. Half of them didnâ t even know how to
pat someone down. Miller knew all of it like a game heâd played since
childhood. In five hours, he found twenty hidden blades on the science crew
alone. He hardly had to think about it.
A second wave of transport ships arrived: personnel haule rs that
looked ready to spill their air out into the vacuum if you spat on them,
salvage trawlers already dismantling the shielding and superstructure of the
station, supply ships boxing and packing the precious equipment and
looting the pharmacies and food banks. By the time news of the assault
reached Earth, the station would be stripped to a skeleton and its people
hidden away in unlicensed prison cells throughout the Belt.
Protogen would know sooner , of course. They had outposts much
closer than the inner planets. There was a calculus of response time and
possible gain. The mathematics of piracy and war. Miller knew it, but he
didnâ t let it worry him. Those were decisions for Fred and his attachĂŠs to
make. Miller had taken more than enough initiative for one day .
Posthuman.
It was a word that came up in the media every five or six years, and it
meant different things every time. Neural regrowth hormone? Posthuman.
Sex robots with inbuilt pseudo intelligence? Posthuman. Self-optimizing
network routing ? Posthuman. It was a word from advert ising copy ,
breathless and empty , and all heâd ever thought it really meant was that the
people using it had a limited imagination about what exactly humans were
capable of.
Now , as he escorted a dozen captives in Protogen uniforms to a docked
transport heading God-knew-where, the word was taking on new meaning.
Are you even human anymor e?
All posthuman meant, literally speaking, was what you were when you
werenâ t human anymore. Protomolecule aside, Protogen aside, Dresden and
his Mengele-as-Genghis-Khan self-righteous fantasies aside, Miller thought
that maybe heâd been ahead of the curve all along. Maybe heâd been
posthuman for years.
The min-max point came forty hours later, and it was time to go. The
OPA had skeletonized the station, and it was time to get out before anyone
came along with vengeance in mind. Miller sat in a crash couch, his blood
dancing with spent amphetamin es and his mind slipping into and out of
exhaustion psychosis. The thrust gravity was like a pillow over his face. He
was vaguely aware that he was weeping. It didnâ t mean anything.
In Mille râs haze, Dresden was talking again, pouring out promises and
lies, half-truths and visions. Miller could see the words thems elves like a
dark smoke, coalescing into the spilling black filament of the
protomolecule. The threads of it were reaching toward Holden, Amos,
Naomi. He tried to find his gun, to stop it, to do the obvious thing. His
despairing shout woke him, and he remembered heâd already won.
Julie sat beside him, her hand cool against his forehead. Her smile was
gentle, understanding. For giving.
Sleep, she said, and his mind fell into the deep black.
Miller's Return to Tycho
- Miller awakens from a haunting nightmare of the protomolecule to find himself back on Tycho Station, crashing in a cramped apartment with Diogo.
- Despite his desire for independence, Miller is forced to live off OPA funds provided by Fred Johnson for his involvement in the Thoth Station raid.
- The solar system is spiraling into chaos, with Earth blockading Mars and Belter factions engaging in guerrilla warfare and industrial sabotage.
- Miller spends his days in a state of paralysis, obsessively watching newsfeeds for mention of the Thoth attack while the world edges closer to total war.
Miller could see the words themselves like a dark smoke, coalescing into the spilling black filament of the protomolecule.
lies, half-truths and visions. Miller could see the words thems elves like a
dark smoke, coalescing into the spilling black filament of the
protomolecule. The threads of it were reaching toward Holden, Amos,
Naomi. He tried to find his gun, to stop it, to do the obvious thing. His
despairing shout woke him, and he remembered heâd already won.
Julie sat beside him, her hand cool against his forehead. Her smile was
gentle, understanding. For giving.
Sleep, she said, and his mind fell into the deep black.
âOi, Pampaw ,â Diogo said. âAcima and out, sabez?â
It was Miller âs tenth morning back on Tycho, his seventh hot-bunking
in Diogoâ s closet-sized apartment. He could tell from the buzz in the boyâs
voice it would have to be one of the last. Fish and company start to smell
after three days. He rolled off the thin bed, ran fingers through his hair, and
nodded. Diogo stripped down and crawled into the bed withou t speaking.
He stank of liquor and cheap tub-grown marijuana.
Miller âs terminal told him that the second shift had ended two hours
before, the third shift halfway into its morning. He gathered his things in his
suitcase, turned off the lights on Diogoâ s already snoring form, and trundled
out to the public showers to spend a few of his remaining credits trying to
look less homeless.
The pleasant surprise of his return to Tycho Station was the boost of
money in his account. The OPA, meaning Fred Johnson, had paid him for
his time on Thoth. He hadnâ t asked for it, and there was part of him that
wanted to turn the payment down. If there had been an alternative, he might
have. Since there wasnâ t, he tried to stretch the funds out as far as they
would go and appreciate the irony . He and Captain Shaddid were on the
same payroll after all.
For the first few days after his return to Tycho, Miller had expe cted to
see the attack on Thoth in the newsfeeds. EAR TH CORPORA TION LOSES
RESEARCH STATION TO CRAZED BELTERS, or some such. He should have been
finding a job or a place to sleep that wasnâ t charity . He meant to. But the
hours seemed to dissolve as he sat in the bar or the lounges, watching the
screens for just a few more minutes.
The Martian navy had suffered a series of harassing attacks by Belters.
A half ton of super -accelerated gravel had forced two of their battleships to
change course. A slowdown in water harvesting on Saturnâ s rings was
either an illegal work stoppage, and therefore treasonous, or the natural
response to increased security needs. Two Earth-owned mining operations
had been attack ed by either Mars or the OPA. Four hundred people were
dead. Earthâs blockade of Mars was entering its third month. A coalition of
scientists and terraforming specialists were screaming that the cascading
The Logic of Atrocity
- Miller observes the escalating interplanetary conflict as Earth's blockade of Mars threatens to derail generations of terraforming progress.
- The text draws a chilling parallel between a dark joke about murder and the sociopathic logic used by Protogen and Dresden to justify mass death.
- Miller reflects on how the architects of the Eros incident disconnected themselves from humanity, viewing innocent blood as a trivial detail.
- A chance encounter with a young, tense veteran of Thoth Station highlights the shared trauma and hollow coping mechanisms of those involved in the conflict.
- Miller offers cynical advice to the young technician, noting that alcohol only serves to make one indifferent to their own suffering rather than healing it.
That it was drowned in innocent blood was as trivial as the font the reports were printed in.
finding a job or a place to sleep that wasnâ t charity . He meant to. But the
hours seemed to dissolve as he sat in the bar or the lounges, watching the
screens for just a few more minutes.
The Martian navy had suffered a series of harassing attacks by Belters.
A half ton of super -accelerated gravel had forced two of their battleships to
change course. A slowdown in water harvesting on Saturnâ s rings was
either an illegal work stoppage, and therefore treasonous, or the natural
response to increased security needs. Two Earth-owned mining operations
had been attack ed by either Mars or the OPA. Four hundred people were
dead. Earthâs blockade of Mars was entering its third month. A coalition of
scientists and terraforming specialists were screaming that the cascading
processes were in danger , and that while the war would be over in a year or
two, the loss of supplies would set the terraforming effort back generations.
Everyone blamed everyone else for Eros. Thoth station didnâ t exist.
It would, though.
With most of the Martian navy still in the outer planets, Earthâ s siege
was a brittle thing. Time was getting short. Either the Martians would go
home and try facing down the somewhat older , somewhat slow er, but more
numerous ships of Earth, or theyâd go straight for the planet itself. Earth
was still the source of a thousand things that couldnâ t be grown elsewhere,
but if someone got happy or cocksure or desperate, it wouldnâ t take much to
start dropping rocks down the gravity wells.
All of it as a distraction.
There was an old joke. Miller didnâ t remember where heâd heard it.
Girlâ s at her own father âs funera l, meets this really cute guy. They talk, hit it
off, but he leaves before she can get his number . Girl doesnâ t know how to
track the guy down.
So a week later , she kills her mom.
Big laugh.
It was the logic of Protogen, of Dresden, of Thoth. Here is the
problem, they said to themselves, and there is the solution. That it was
drowned in innocent blood was as trivial as the font the reports were printed
in. They had disconnected themselves from humanity . Shut off the cell
clusters in their brains that made life besides their own sacred. Or valuable.
Or worth saving. All it had cost them was every human connection.
Funny how familiar that sounded.
The guy who walked into the bar and nodded to Miller was one of
Diogoâ s friends. Twenty years old or maybe a little south of that. A veteran
of Thoth Station, just like Miller . He didnâ t remember the kidâs name, but
heâd seen him around often enough to know that the way he held himself
was different than usual. Tight-wound. Miller tapped the mute on his
terminalâ s newsfeed and made his way over .
âHey ,â he said, and the kid looked up sharply . The face was tense, but
a softer , intentional ease tried to mask it. It was just Diogoâ s old grandpa.
The one, everyo ne on Thoth knew, whoâd killed the biggest dick in the
universe. It won Miller some points, so the kid smiled and nodded to the
stool beside him.
âAll pretty fucked up, isnâ t it?â Miller said.
âYou donât know the half,â the kid said. He had a clipped accent.
Belter by his height, but educated. T echnician, probably . The kid tabbed in a
drink order , and the bar offered up a glass of clear fluid so volatile Miller
could watch it evaporate. The kid drank it down with a gulp.
âDoesnâ t work,â Miller said.
The kid looked over . Miller shrugged.
âThey say drinking helps, but it doesnâ t,â Miller said.
âNo?â
âNope. Sex sometimes, if youâve got a girl whoâll talk to you after. Or
target practice. Working out, sometimes. Liquor doesnâ t make you feel
better . Just makes you not so worried about feeling bad.â
The Horror of Eros
- Miller encounters a young technician at a bar who is struggling with the moral weight of the recent violence on Thoth Station.
- The technician shares decrypted feeds from Eros, revealing the horrifying biological transformation occurring on the station.
- The protomolecule is shown repurposing human remains into grotesque, mobile structures and mindless, piping entities.
- While the public views Miller as a hero for his actions, he remains cynical and haunted by the scale of the unfolding disaster.
When Miller zoomed in, it was a human torsoârib cage, spine, trailing lengths of what used to be intestines and were now the long black threads of the protomoleculeâpushing itself along on the stump of an arm.
terminalâ s newsfeed and made his way over .
âHey ,â he said, and the kid looked up sharply . The face was tense, but
a softer , intentional ease tried to mask it. It was just Diogoâ s old grandpa.
The one, everyo ne on Thoth knew, whoâd killed the biggest dick in the
universe. It won Miller some points, so the kid smiled and nodded to the
stool beside him.
âAll pretty fucked up, isnâ t it?â Miller said.
âYou donât know the half,â the kid said. He had a clipped accent.
Belter by his height, but educated. T echnician, probably . The kid tabbed in a
drink order , and the bar offered up a glass of clear fluid so volatile Miller
could watch it evaporate. The kid drank it down with a gulp.
âDoesnâ t work,â Miller said.
The kid looked over . Miller shrugged.
âThey say drinking helps, but it doesnâ t,â Miller said.
âNo?â
âNope. Sex sometimes, if youâve got a girl whoâll talk to you after. Or
target practice. Working out, sometimes. Liquor doesnâ t make you feel
better . Just makes you not so worried about feeling bad.â
The kid laughed and shook his head. He was on the edge of talking, so
Miller sat back and let the quiet do his work for him. He figured the kid had
killed someone, probably on Thoth, and it was sneaking up on him. But
instead of tellin g the story , the kid took Miller âs terminal, keyed in a few
local codes, and handed it back . A huge menu of feeds appea redâvideo,
audio, air pressu re and content, radiological. It took Miller half a second to
understand what he was seeing. Theyâd cracked the encryption on the Eros
feeds.
He was looking at the protomol ecule in action. He was seeing Juliette
Andromeda Maoâs corpse writ large. For a moment, his imagined Julie
flickered beside him.
âIf you ever wonder if you did the right thing shooting that guy,â the
kid said, âlook at that.â
Miller opened a feed. A long corridor , wide enough for twenty people
to walk abreast. The flooring was wet and undulating like the surface of a
canal. Somethin g small rolled awkwardly through the mush. When Miller
zoomed in, it was a human torsoârib cage, spine, trailing lengths of what
used to be intestines and were now the long black threads of the
protomoleculeâpushing itself along on the stump of an arm. There was no
head. The feed output bar showed there was sound, and Miller undid the
mute. The high, mindless piping reminded him of mentally ill children
singing to themselves.
âItâs all like that,â the kid said. âWhole stationâ s crawling with⌠shit
like that.â
âWhatâ s it doing?â
âBuilding some thing,â the kid said, and shuddered. âI thoug ht you
should see it.â
âYeah?â Miller said, his gaze nailed to the screen. âWhat did I ever do
to you?â
The kid laughed.
âEveryone thinks youâre a hero for killing that guy,â the kid said.
âEveryone think s we should push every last prisoner we took off that
station out an airlock.â
Probably should, Miller thought, if we canât make them human again.
He switched the feed. The casin o level where he and Holden had been, or
else a section very like it. A webwork of something like bones linked
ceiling and roof. Black sluglike things a yard long slithered up and between
them. The sound was a hushing, like the recordings heâd heard of surf
against a beach. He switched again. The port, with bulkheads closed and
encrusted with huge nautilus spirals that seemed to shift while he watched
them.
âEveryone think s youâre a fucki ng hero,â the kid said, and this time, it
bit a little. Miller shook his head.
âNah,â he said. âJust a guy who used to be a cop.â
Why should going into a firefi ght, charging into an enemy station filled
with people and automatic systems built to kill you, seem less frightening
than talking to people who you shipped with for weeks?
And still.
It was third shift, and the bar at the observation platform was set to
imitate night. The air was scented with something smoky that wasnâ t
Dipped in Shit
- Miller attempts to reconnect with the crew of the Rocinante in a bar, but finds the atmosphere thick with tension and avoidance.
- Naomi and Amos use transparent excuses about an errand for Holden to cut the social interaction short.
- The physical posture of the characters reveals their internal state, with Miller adopting a 'fighterâs crouch' as if expecting injury.
- Amos stays behind to confront Miller, drawing a sharp distinction between 'good people' like Naomi and men like themselves.
- The conversation confirms that Millerâs standing with Captain Holden has been severely compromised following recent events.
It was the seated version of a fighterâs crouch, bent forward with his arms protecting the soft places in his neck and belly.
them.
âEveryone think s youâre a fucki ng hero,â the kid said, and this time, it
bit a little. Miller shook his head.
âNah,â he said. âJust a guy who used to be a cop.â
Why should going into a firefi ght, charging into an enemy station filled
with people and automatic systems built to kill you, seem less frightening
than talking to people who you shipped with for weeks?
And still.
It was third shift, and the bar at the observation platform was set to
imitate night. The air was scented with something smoky that wasnâ t
smoke. A piano and bass dueled lazily with each other while a manâ s voice
lamented in Arabic. Dim lights glowed at the bases of the tables, casting
soft shadows up across faces and bodies, emphasizing the customersâ legs
and bellies and breasts. The shipyards beyond the windows were busy as
always. If he went close, he could pick out the Rocinante, still recovering
from its wounds. Not dead, and being made stronger .
Amos and Naomi were at a table in a corner . No sign of Alex. No sign
of Hold en. That made it easie r. Not easy, but closer . He made his way
toward them. Naomi saw him first, and Miller read the discomfort in her
expression, covered over as quickly as it appeared. Amos turned to see what
sheâd been reacting to, and the corners of his mouth and eyes didnâ t shift
into a frown or a smile. Miller scratched his arm even though it didnâ t itch.
âHey ,â he said. âBuy you folks a round?â
The silence lasted a beat longer than it should have, and then Naomi
forced a smile.
âSure. Just one. W eâve got⌠that thing. For the captain.â
âOh yeah,â Amos said, lying even more awkwardly than Naomi had,
making his awareness of the fact part of the message. âThe thing. Thatâ s
important.â
Miller sat, lifted a hand for the waiter to see, and, when the man
nodded, leaned forward with his elbows on the table. It was the seated
version of a fighterâs crouch, bent forward with his arms protecting the soft
places in his neck and belly . It was the way a man stood when he expected
injury .
The waiter came , and then beers all around. Miller paid for them with
the OP Aâs money and took a sip.
âHowâ s the ship?â he asked at last.
âComing together ,â Naomi said. âThey really banged the hell out of
her.â
âSheâll still fly ,â Amos said. âSheâ s one tough bitch.â
âThatâ s good. Whenââ Miller said, then tripped on his words and had
to start again. âWhen are you folks shipping out?â
âWhenever the captain says,â Amos said with a shrug. âWeâre airtight
now, so could go tomorrow , if heâ s got someplace he wants to be.â
âAnd if Fred lets us,â Naomi said, and then grimaced like she wished
sheâd kept silent.
âThat an issue?â Miller asked. âIs the OP A leaning on Holden?â
âItâs just something I was think ing about,â Naomi said. âItâs nothing.
Look, thanks for the drink, Miller . But I really think weâd better be going.â
Miller took a long breath and let it out slow .
âYeah,â he said. âOkay .â
âYou head out,â Amos said to Naomi. âIâll catch up.â
Naomi shot a confused look at the big man, but Amos only gave back
a smile. It could have meant anything.
âOkay ,â Naomi said. âBut donâ t be long, okay? The thing.â
âFor the captain,â Amos said. âNo worries.â
Naomi rose and walked away . Her effort not to look back over her
shoulder was visible. Miller looked at Amos. The lights gave the mechanic
a slightly demonic appearance.
âNaomiâ s a good person,â Amos said. âI like her, you know? Like my
kid sister , only smart and Iâd do her if she let me. Y ou know?â
âYeah,â Miller said. âI like her too.â
âSheâ s not like us,â Amos said, and the warmth and humor were gone.
âThatâ s why I like her,â Miller said. It was the right thing to say. Amos
nodded.
âSo hereâs the thing. As far as the captain goes, youâre dipped in shit
right now .â
The scrim of bubbles where his beer touched the glass glowed white in
the dim light. Miller gave the glass a quarter turn, watching them closely .
The Moral Compass of Outcasts
- Amos confronts Miller in a bar, explaining that Miller's habit of killing without consultation has made Captain Holden and the crew uncomfortable.
- Amos admits his own moral compass is broken and that he relies on Holden's inherent righteousness to determine what is right and wrong.
- The crew of the Rocinante reaches a consensus that Miller is no longer welcome among them, leaving him isolated with only his hallucinations of Julie Mao.
- On Tycho Station, Holden oversees repairs to the ship led by Sam, a highly skilled mechanic whose diminutive appearance belies her professional competence.
I know what I am, and my moral compass? Iâll tell you, itâs fucked.
a slightly demonic appearance.
âNaomiâ s a good person,â Amos said. âI like her, you know? Like my
kid sister , only smart and Iâd do her if she let me. Y ou know?â
âYeah,â Miller said. âI like her too.â
âSheâ s not like us,â Amos said, and the warmth and humor were gone.
âThatâ s why I like her,â Miller said. It was the right thing to say. Amos
nodded.
âSo hereâs the thing. As far as the captain goes, youâre dipped in shit
right now .â
The scrim of bubbles where his beer touched the glass glowed white in
the dim light. Miller gave the glass a quarter turn, watching them closely .
âBecause I killed someone who needed it?â Miller asked. The
bitterness in his voice wasnâ t surprising, but it was deeper than heâd
intended. Amos didnâ t hear it or else didnâ t care.
âBecause youâve got a habit of that,â Amos said. âCapânâ s not like
that. Killing people without talking it over first makes him jumpy . You did a
lot of it on Eros, but⌠you know .â
âYeah,â Miller said.
âThoth Station wasnâ t Eros. Next place we go wonâ t be Eros either .
Holden doesnâ t want you around.â
âAnd the rest of you?â Miller asked.
âWe donât want you around either ,â Amos said. His voice wasnâ t hard
or gentle. He was talking about the gauge of a machine part. He was talking
about anything. The words hit Miller in the belly , just where heâd expected
it. He couldnâ t have blocked them.
âHereâ s the thing,â Amos went on. âYou and me, weâre a lot the same.
Been around. I know what I am, and my moral compass? Iâll tell you, itâs
fucked. A few things fell different when I was a kid. I could have been
those ass-bandits on Thoth. I know that. Captain couldnâ t have been. Itâ s not
in him. Heâs as close to righteous as anyone out here gets. And when he
says youâre out, thatâs just the way it is, because the way I figure it, heâs
probably right. Sure as hell has a better chance than I do.â
âOkay ,â Miller said.
âYeah,â Amos said. He finishe d his beer. Then he finished Naomiâ s.
And then he walked away , leaving Miller to himself and his empty gut.
Outside, the Nauvoo fanned a glittering array of sensors, testing something
or else just preening. Miller waited.
Beside him, Julie Mao leaned on the table, just where Amos had been.
So, she said. Looks like itâ s just you and me now .
âLooks like,â he said.
Chapter Fourty-Thr ee
Holden
A Tycho worker in blue coveral ls and a welding mask sealed up the hole in
one of the galle y bulkheads. Holden watched with his hand shielding his
eyes from the harsh blue glare of the torch. When the plate steel was
secured in place, the welder flipped her mask up to check the bead. She had
blue eyes and a small mouth in a heart-shaped pixie face and a mop of red
hair pulled into a bun. Her name was Sam, and she was the team leader on
the Rocinante repair project. Amos had been chasing her for two weeks
now with no success. Holden was glad, because the pixie had turned out to
be one of the best mechanics heâd ever met, and heâd hate for her to focus
on anything other than his ship.
âItâs perfect,â he said to her as she ran one gloved hand over the
cooling metal.
âItâs okay ,â she said with a shrug. âWeâll grind this down smooth
enough, paint it nice, then youâll never even know your ship had a boo-
boo.â She had a surprisingly deep voice that contrasted with her looks and
her habit of using mockingly childlike phrases. Holden guess ed that her
appearance combined with her chosen profession had led to a lot of people
underestimating her in the past. He didnâ t want to make that mistake.
âYouâve done amazing work, Sam,â he said. He guessed Sam was
short for something, but heâd never asked and sheâd never volunteered. âI
Repairs and Rivalries
- Holden praises Sam, a highly skilled mechanic on Tycho Station, for her exceptional work repairing his ship.
- Sam reveals that the ship's durability is remarkable, noting that the damage it sustained would have destroyed most other vessels.
- Naomi has formed a close friendship with Sam and the Tycho crew, participating in competitive games and social circles outside of Holden's immediate influence.
- Holden struggles with feelings of possessiveness and guilt as he realizes he is no longer Naomi's sole social connection.
- The ship is nearly flight-ready, with only cosmetic and nonessential repairs remaining before it is back to perfect condition.
Holden hated to admit it, but he missed being the only social circle Naomi had. When he did admit it to himself, like now, it made him feel like a creep.
now with no success. Holden was glad, because the pixie had turned out to
be one of the best mechanics heâd ever met, and heâd hate for her to focus
on anything other than his ship.
âItâs perfect,â he said to her as she ran one gloved hand over the
cooling metal.
âItâs okay ,â she said with a shrug. âWeâll grind this down smooth
enough, paint it nice, then youâll never even know your ship had a boo-
boo.â She had a surprisingly deep voice that contrasted with her looks and
her habit of using mockingly childlike phrases. Holden guess ed that her
appearance combined with her chosen profession had led to a lot of people
underestimating her in the past. He didnâ t want to make that mistake.
âYouâve done amazing work, Sam,â he said. He guessed Sam was
short for something, but heâd never asked and sheâd never volunteered. âI
keep telling Fred how happy we are to have you in char ge of this job.â
âMaybe Iâll get a gold star in my next report card,â she said while she
put her torch away and stood up. Holden tried to think of something to say
to that and failed.
âSorry ,â she said, turning to face him. âI appreciate your praise to the
boss. And to be honest, itâs been a lot of fun working on your little girl.
Sheâs quite a ship. The beating she took would have blown anything we
own into scrap.â
âIt was a close thing, even for us,â Holden replied.
Sam nodded, then began putting the rest of her gear away . As she
worked, Naomi climbed down the crew ladder from the upper decks, her
gray coveralls hung with electricianâ s tools.
âHow are things up there?â Holden asked.
âNinety percen t,â Naomi said as she crossed the galley to the
refrigerator and took out a bottle of juice. âGive or take.â She took out a
second bottle and tossed it to Sam, who caught it one-handed.
âNaomi,â Sam said, raising the bottle in mock toast before downing
half of it in one swallow .
âSammy ,â Naomi said in return with a grin.
The two of them had hit it off right away , and now Naom i was
spending a lot of her off time with Sam and her Tycho crowd. Holden hated
to admit it, but he missed being the only social circle Naomi had. When he
did admit it to himself, like now , it made him feel like a creep.
âGolgo comp in rec, tonight?â Sam said after sheâd gulped down the
last of her drink.
âThink those C7 chumps are tired of getting their asses handed to
them?â Naomi said in return. To Holden, it sounded like they were speaking
in code.
âWe can throw the first one,â Sam said. âGet âem hooked tight before
we drop the hammer and wipe their roll.â
âSounds good to me,â Naomi said, then tossed her empty bottle into
the recycling bin and started back up the ladder . âSee you at eight, then.â
She tossed a little wave at Holden. âLater , Captain.â
Holden said, âHow much longer , do you think?â to Samâ s back as she
finished with her tools.
Sam shrugged. âCouple days, maybe, to get her to perfect. She could
probably fly now , if youâre not worried about nonessentials and cosmetics.â
âThanks, again, â Holden said, holding out his hand to Sam as she
turned around. She shook it once, her palm heavily calloused and her grip
firm. âAnd I hope you mop the floor with those chumps from C7.â
She gave him a predatory grin.
âItâs not even in doubt.â
Through Fred Johnson, the OPA had provided the crew with living quarters
Luxury Amidst Total War
- The Rocinante is nearing completion of its repairs at Tycho Station, with Sam reporting the ship is nearly flight-ready.
- Holden struggles with the cognitive dissonance of living in high-end luxury while Earth and Mars escalate toward total annihilation.
- The horrific fate of the million and a half people on Eros and the reality of ancient alien technology continue to haunt Holden's thoughts.
- Miller makes an unexpected appearance at Holden's door, interrupting Holden's attempt to distract himself from the looming interplanetary conflict.
Aliens that had tried to take over the Earth two billion years ago, and failed because Saturn got in the way.
Holden said, âHow much longer , do you think?â to Samâ s back as she
finished with her tools.
Sam shrugged. âCouple days, maybe, to get her to perfect. She could
probably fly now , if youâre not worried about nonessentials and cosmetics.â
âThanks, again, â Holden said, holding out his hand to Sam as she
turned around. She shook it once, her palm heavily calloused and her grip
firm. âAnd I hope you mop the floor with those chumps from C7.â
She gave him a predatory grin.
âItâs not even in doubt.â
Through Fred Johnson, the OPA had provided the crew with living quarters
on the station during the renovation of the Roci, and over the past few
weeks, Holdenâ s cabin had almost come to feel like home. Tycho had
money , and they seemed to spend a lot of it on their employees. Holden had
three rooms to himself, including a bath and a kitchen nook off the public
space. On most stations, youâd have to be the governor to have that kind of
luxury . Holden had the impression it was fairly standard for management on
Tycho.
He tossed his grimy jumpsuit into the laundry bin and started a pot of
coffee before jumping into his private shower . A shower every night after
work: another almost unthinkab le luxury . It would be easy to get distracted.
To start thinking of this period of ship repair and quiet home life as
normalcy , not interlude. Holden couldnâ t let that happen.
Earthâ s assault on Mars filled the newsfeeds. The domes of Mars still
stood, but two showers of meteors had pocked the wide slopes of Olympus
Mons. Earth claimed that it was debris from Deimos, Mars that it was an
intentional threa t and provocation. Martian ships from the gas giants were
burning hard for the inner planets. Every day, every hour brought the
moment closer when Earth would have to commit to annihilating Mars or
backing away . The OPAâs rhetoric seemed built to ensure that whoever won
would kill them next. Holden had just helped Fred with what Earth would
see as the lar gest act of piracy in the history of the Belt.
And a million and a half people were dying right now on Eros. Holden
thought of the video feed heâd seen of what was happening to the people on
the station, and shuddered even in the heat of the shower .
Oh, and aliens. Aliens that had tried to take over the Earth two billion
years ago, and failed because Saturn got in the way. Canâ t forget the aliens.
His brain still hadnât figured out a way to process that, so it kept trying to
pretend it didnâ t exist.
Holden grabbed a towel and turned on the wall screen in his living
room while he dried off. The air was filled with the competin g scents of
coffee, humidity from the shower , and the faintly grassy and floral scent
Tycho pumped into all the residences. Holden tried the news, but it was
speculation about the war without any new information. He changed to a
competition show with incomprehensible rules and psychoti cally giddy
contestants. He flipped through a few feeds that he could tell were
comedies, because the actors paused and nodded where they expected the
laughs to be.
When his jaw started aching, he realized he was gritting his teeth. He
turned off the screen and threw the remote onto his bed in the next room.
He wrap ped the towel around his waist, then poured a mug of coffee and
collapsed onto the couch just in time for his door to chime.
âWhat?â he yelled at the top of his lungs. No one replied. Good
insulation on Tycho. He went to the door, arranging his towel for maximum
modesty along the way , and yanked it open.
It was Miller . He was dressed in a rumpled gray suit heâd probably
brought from Ceres, and was fumbling around with that stupid hat.
âHolden, heyââ he started, but Holden cut him of f.
âWhat the hell do you want? â Holden said. âAnd are you really
standing outside my door with your hat in your hands?â
Miller smiled, then put the hat back on his head. âYou know , I always
wondered what that meant.â
The Executioner's Justification
- Miller visits Holden's quarters on Tycho Station to address the fallout from Miller's summary execution of the scientist Dresden.
- Holden expresses deep moral outrage, accusing Miller of playing judge, jury, and executioner and violating their previous agreement.
- Miller defends his actions by arguing that Dresden's power and wealth made him 'untouchable' by any formal legal system.
- The tension between the two men highlights a fundamental ideological split between Holden's idealism and Miller's cynical pragmatism.
- Miller reveals a haunting motivation for the killing, suggesting that Dresden's persuasive rhetoric was beginning to win people over.
I donât want to hear any more of your stories about how being a cop makes you wiser and deeper and able to face the truth about humanity. As far as I can tell, all it did was break you.
laughs to be.
When his jaw started aching, he realized he was gritting his teeth. He
turned off the screen and threw the remote onto his bed in the next room.
He wrap ped the towel around his waist, then poured a mug of coffee and
collapsed onto the couch just in time for his door to chime.
âWhat?â he yelled at the top of his lungs. No one replied. Good
insulation on Tycho. He went to the door, arranging his towel for maximum
modesty along the way , and yanked it open.
It was Miller . He was dressed in a rumpled gray suit heâd probably
brought from Ceres, and was fumbling around with that stupid hat.
âHolden, heyââ he started, but Holden cut him of f.
âWhat the hell do you want? â Holden said. âAnd are you really
standing outside my door with your hat in your hands?â
Miller smiled, then put the hat back on his head. âYou know , I always
wondered what that meant.â
âNow you know ,â Holden replied.
âYou got a minute?â Miller said.
Holden waited a moment, staring up at the lanky detective. He quickly
gave up. He probably outweighed Miller by twenty kilos, but it was
impossible to be intimidating when the person you were staring down was a
foot taller than you.
âOkay , come in,â he said, then headed for his bedroom. âLet me get
dressed. Thereâ s cof fee.â
Holden didnâ t wait for a reply; he just closed the bedroom door and sat
on the bed. He and Miller hadnâ t exchanged more than a dozen words since
returning to Tycho. He knew they couldnâ t leave it at that, as much as he
might like to. He owed Miller at least the conversation where he told him to
get lost.
He put on a pair of warm cotton pants and a pullover , ran one hand
through his damp hair, and went back out to the living room. Miller was
sitting on his couch holding a steaming mug.
âGood cof fee,â the detective said.
âSo, letâ s hear it,â Holden replied, sitting in a chair across from him.
Miller took a sip of his cof fee and said, âW ellââ
âI mean , this is the conversation where you tell me how you were right
to shoot an unarmed man in the face, and how Iâm just too naive to see it.
Right?â
âActuallyââ
âI fucking told you,â Holden said, surprised to feel the heat rise in his
cheeks. âNo more of that judge, jury, and executioner shit or you could find
your own ride, and you did it anyway .â
âYes.â
The simple af firmative took Holden of f guard.
âWhy?â
Miller took another sip of his coffee, then set the mug down. He
reached up and took off his hat, tossed it onto the couch next to him, then
leaned back.
âHe was going to get away with it.â
âExcuse me?â Holden replied . âDid you miss the part where he
confessed to everything?â
âThat wasnât a confession. That was a boast. He was untouchable, and
he knew it. T oo much money . Too much power .â
âThatâ s bullshit. No one gets to kill a million and a half people and get
away with it.â
âPeople get away with things all time. Guilty as hell, but something
gets in the way. Evidence. Politics. I had a partner for a while, name of
Muss. When Earth pulled out of Ceresââ
âStop,â Holden said. âI donât care. I donât want to hear any more of
your stories about how being a cop makes you wiser and deeper and able to
face the truth about humanity . As far as I can tell, all it did was break you.
Okay?â
âYeah, okay .â
âDresden and his Protogen buddies thought they could choose who
lives and who dies. That sound familiar? And donât tell me itâs different this
time, because everyone says that, every time. And itâ s not.â
âWasnât revenge,â Miller said, a little too hotly .
âOh really? This wasnâ t about the girl in the hotel? Julie Mao?â
âCatching him was. Killing himâŚâ
Miller sighed and nodded to himself, then got up and opened the door.
He stopped in the doorway and turned around, real pain on his face.
âHe was talking us into it,â Miller said. âAll that about getting the stars
and protecting ourselves from whatever shot that thing at Earth? I was
Righteousness and Exile
- Miller admits he shot Dresden not just for revenge, but because the scientist's persuasive arguments were beginning to make sense to him.
- Holden officially severs ties with Miller, stating he cannot trust the detective's unpredictable nature around the people he cares about.
- Holden struggles with the guilt of his own actions, feeling responsible for the escalating war and the deaths of those who tried to help them.
- Naomi confirms Holden's reputation for righteousness, suggesting that Miller was seeking absolution from him before being cast out.
The cop was like an unpredictable dog that might lick your hand or take a bite out of your leg.
lives and who dies. That sound familiar? And donât tell me itâs different this
time, because everyone says that, every time. And itâ s not.â
âWasnât revenge,â Miller said, a little too hotly .
âOh really? This wasnâ t about the girl in the hotel? Julie Mao?â
âCatching him was. Killing himâŚâ
Miller sighed and nodded to himself, then got up and opened the door.
He stopped in the doorway and turned around, real pain on his face.
âHe was talking us into it,â Miller said. âAll that about getting the stars
and protecting ourselves from whatever shot that thing at Earth? I was
starting to think maybe he should get away with it. Maybe things were just
too big for right and wrong. Iâm not saying he convinced me. But he made
me think maybe, you know? Just maybe.â
âAnd for that, you shot him.â
âI did.â
Holden sighed, then leaned against the wall next to the open door, his
arms crossed.
âAmos calls you righteous,â Miller said. âY ou know that?â
âAmos thinks heâs a bad guy because heâs done some thing s heâs
ashamed of,â Holden said. âHe doesnâ t always trust himself, but the fact
that he cares tells me he isnât a bad guy .â
âYeahââ Miller started, but Holden cut him of f.
âHe looks at his soul, sees the stains, and wants to be clean,â he said.
âBut you? Y ou just shrug.â
âDresden wasââ
âThis isnât about Dresden. Itâs about you,â Holden said. âI canât trust
you around the people I care about.â
Holden stared at Miller , waitin g for him to reply , but the cop just
nodded sadly , then put his hat on and walked away down the gently curving
corridor . He didnâ t turn around.
Holden went back inside and tried to relax, but he felt jumpy and
nervous. He would never have gotten off Eros without Miller âs help. There
was no question about it: T ossing him out on his ear felt wrong. Incomplete.
The truth was Miller made his scalp crawl every time they were in the
same room. The cop was like an unpredictable dog that migh t lick your
hand or take a bite out of your leg.
Holden thought about calling Fred and warning him. He called Naomi
instead.
âHey ,â she answ ered on the second chime. Holden could hear a barâs
frantic, alcohol-fueled merriment in the background.
âNaomi,â he said, then paused, trying to think of some excuse to have
called. When he couldnâ t think of one, he said, âMiller was just here.â
âYeah, he cornered Amos and me a while back. What did he want?â
âI donâ t know ,â Holden said with a sigh. âSay goodbye, maybe.â
âWhat are you doing?â Naomi asked. âW ant to meet up?â
âYes. Y es I do.â
Holden didnâ t recognize the bar at first, but after ordering a scotch from a
professionally friendly waiter , he realized it was the same place heâd
watched Naomi sing karaoke to a Belter punk song what seemed like
centuries before . She wandered in and plopped down across from him in the
booth just as his drink showed up. The waiter gave her a questioning smile.
âGah, no,â she said quickly , waving her hands at him. âIâve had plenty
tonight. Just some water , thanks.â
As the waiter bustled away , Holden said, âHow did your, uh⌠What
exactly is Golgo, anyway? And how did it go?â
âGame they play here,â Naomi said, then took a glass of wate r from
their returning waiter and drank half of it in one gulp. âLike a cross between
darts and soccer . Never seen it before, but I seem to be good at it. W e won.â
âGreat,â Holden said. âThanks for coming. I know itâs late, but this
Miller thing freaked me out a bit.â
âHe wants you to absolve him, I think.â
âBecause Iâm ârighteous,ââ Holden said with a sarcastic laugh.
âYou are,â Naomi said with no irony . âI mean, itâs a loaded term, but
youâre as close to it as anyone Iâve ever known.â
âIâve fucked everything up,â Holden blurted out before he could stop
himself. âEvery one whoâ s tried to help us, or that weâve tried to help, has
died spectacularly . This whole fucking war. And Captain McDowell and
A Win and a Wasteland
- Holden expresses deep guilt and a sense of failure to Naomi, lamenting the lives lost and his desperate need to make a meaningful difference in the war.
- Naomi challenges Holden's self-serious nobility and reveals she has been waiting years for him to make a romantic move.
- The two reach a romantic turning point as Naomi invites Holden home, emphasizing the uncertainty of their future and the need to live in the moment.
- Miller reflects on his profound isolation and spiritual kinship with the 'disconnected tribe' of drifters as he watches the Rocinante from afar.
I knew the story of Moses seeing a promised land he would never enter.
âGreat,â Holden said. âThanks for coming. I know itâs late, but this
Miller thing freaked me out a bit.â
âHe wants you to absolve him, I think.â
âBecause Iâm ârighteous,ââ Holden said with a sarcastic laugh.
âYou are,â Naomi said with no irony . âI mean, itâs a loaded term, but
youâre as close to it as anyone Iâve ever known.â
âIâve fucked everything up,â Holden blurted out before he could stop
himself. âEvery one whoâ s tried to help us, or that weâve tried to help, has
died spectacularly . This whole fucking war. And Captain McDowell and
Becca and Ade. And Shedââ He had to stop and swallow a sudden lump in
his throat.
Naomi just nodd ed, then reached across the table and took his hand in
hers.
âI need a win, Naomi,â he continued. âI need to do somethi ng that
makes a differen ce. Fate or Karma or God or whatever dropped me in the
middle of this thing, and I need to know Iâm making a dif ference.â
Naomi smiled at him and squeezed his hand.
âYouâre cute when youâre being noble,â she said. âBut you need to
stare of f into the distance more.â
âYouâre making fun of me.â
âYeah,â she said. âI am. W ant to come home with me?â
âIââ Holden started, then stopped and stared at her, looking for the
joke. Naomi was still smiling at him, nothing in her eyes but warmth and a
touch of mischief. While he watched, one curly lock of hair fell over her
eye, and she pushed it up without looking away from him. âWait, what? I
thought youâdââ
âI said donât tell me you love me to get me into bed,â she said. âBut I
also said Iâd have gone to your cabin anytime you asked over the last four
years. I didnâ t think I was being subtle, and Iâm sort of tired of waiting.â
Holden leaned back in the booth and tried to remember to breathe.
Naomiâ s grin changed to pure mischief now , and one eyebrow went up.
âYou okay , sailor?â she asked.
âI thoug ht you were avoiding me,â he said once he was capable of
speech. âIs this your way of giving me a win?â
âDonâ t be insult ing,â she said, though there was no hint of anger in her
voice. âBut Iâve waited weeks for you to get your nerve up, and the shipâ s
almost done. That means youâll probably volunteer us for some thing really
stupid and this time our luck will run out.â
âWellââ he said.
âIf that happens without us at least giving this a try once, I will be very
unhappy about it.â
âNaomi, Iââ
âItâs simple, Jim,â she said, reaching out for his hand and pulling him
back toward her. She leaned across the table between them until their faces
were almost touching. âItâ s a yes or no question.â
âYes.â
Chapter Fourty-Four
Miller
Miller sat by himself, staring out the wide observation windows without
seeing the view . The fungal-culture whiskey on the low black table beside
him remained at the same level in the glass as when heâd bought it. It
wasnâ t really a drink. It was permission to sit. There had always been a
handful of drifters, even on Ceres. Men and women whose luck had run out.
No place to go, no one to ask favors of. No connection to the vast net of
humanity . Heâd always felt a kind of sympathy for them, his spiritual
kindred.
Now he was part of that disconnected tribe in earnest.
Something brigh t happened on the skin of the great generation shipâa
welding array firing off some intricate network of subtle connection,
maybe. Past the Nauvoo, nestled in the constant hive-like activity of Tycho
Station, was a half-degree arc of the Rocinante, like a home heâd once had.
He knew the story of Moses seeing a promised land he would never enter .
Miller wondered how the old prophet would have felt if heâd been ushered
in for a momentâa day, a week, a yearâand then dropped back out in the
desert. Kinder never to leave the wastelands. Safer .
Beside him, Juliette Mao watched him from the corner of his mind
The Wastelands of Tycho
- Miller reflects on his isolation at Tycho Station, comparing his brief time with the Rocinante crew to a fleeting glimpse of a promised land.
- Haunted by a hallucination of Julie Mao, Miller grapples with the realization that his quest for revenge failed to provide personal salvation.
- Struggling with suicidal ideation and a lack of purpose, Miller attempts to find work to sustain his precarious existence.
- The young Belter Diogo offers Miller a place to sleep and a potential lead on a security job, highlighting Miller's fall from his former status as a detective.
He knew the story of Moses seeing a promised land he would never enter.
welding array firing off some intricate network of subtle connection,
maybe. Past the Nauvoo, nestled in the constant hive-like activity of Tycho
Station, was a half-degree arc of the Rocinante, like a home heâd once had.
He knew the story of Moses seeing a promised land he would never enter .
Miller wondered how the old prophet would have felt if heâd been ushered
in for a momentâa day, a week, a yearâand then dropped back out in the
desert. Kinder never to leave the wastelands. Safer .
Beside him, Juliette Mao watched him from the corner of his mind
carved out for her .
I was supposed to save you, he thought. I was supposed to find you.
Find the truth.
And didnâ t you?
He smiled at her, and she smiled back, as world-weary and tired as he
was. Because of course he had. Heâd found her, heâd found who killed her,
and Holden was right. Heâd taken revenge. All that heâd promised himself,
heâd done. Only it hadnâ t saved him.
âCan I get you anything?â
For half a second, Miller though t Julie had said it. The serving girl had
opened her mouth to ask him again before he shook his head. She couldnâ t.
And even if she had been able to, he couldnâ t afford it.
You knew it couldnâ t last, Julie said. Holden. His crew. You knew you
didnâ t really belong ther e. You belong with me.
A sudde n shot of adrenaline revved his tired heart. He looked around
for her, but Julie was gone. His own privately generated fight-or -flight
reaction didnâ t have room for daydream hallucinations. And still. You
belong with me.
He wondered how many people heâd known who had taken that path.
Cops had a tradition of eating their guns that went back to long before
humanity had lifted itself up the gravity well. Here he was, without a home,
without a friend, with more blood on his hands from the past month than
from his whole career before it. The in-house shrink on Ceres called it
suicidal ideation in his yearly presentation to the security teams. Something
to watch out for, like genital lice or high cholesterol. Not a big deal if you
were careful.
So heâd be careful. For a while. See where it went.
He stood , hesitated for three heartbeats, then scooped up his bourbon
and drank it in a gulp. Liquid courage, they called it, and it seemed to do the
trick. He pulled up his terminal, put in a connect request, and tried to
compose himself. He wasnâ t there yet. And if he was going to live, he
needed a job.
âSabez nichts, Pampaw ,â Diog o said. The kid was wearing a meshwork
shirt and pants cut in a fashio n as youthful as it was ugly, and in his
previous life, Miller would probably have written him off as too young to
know anything useful. Now Miller waited. If anything could wring a
prospect out of Diogo, it would be the promise of Miller getting a hole of
his own. The silence dragged. Miller forced himself not to speak for fear of
begging.
âWellâŚâ Diogo said warily . âWell. Thereâ s one hombre might could.
Just arm and eye.â
âSecurity guard workâ s fine with me,â Miller said. âAnything that pays
the bills.â
âIl conversa ĂĄ do. Hear whatâ s said.â
âI appre ciate anything you can do,â Miller replied, then gestured at the
bed. âY ou mind if IâŚ?â
âMi cama es su cama,â Diogo said. Miller lay down.
Diogo stepped into the small shower , and the sound of water against
flesh drowned out the air cycler . Even on board ship, Miller hadnâ t lived in
physical circumstances this intimate with anyone since his marriage. Still,
he wouldnâ t have gone as far as to call Diogo a friend.
Opportunity was thinner on Tycho than heâd hoped, and he didnâ t have
much by way of references. The few people who knew him werenât likely
to speak on his behalf. But surely thereâd be something. All he needed was
a way to remake himself, to start over and be someone differen t from who
heâd been.
Assuming, of course, that Earth or Marsâwhichever one came out on
The Echoes of Eros
- Miller struggles to find a new identity on Tycho Station while living in cramped quarters with the young OPA irregular, Diogo.
- The protomolecule on Eros begins broadcasting a haunting, nonsensical data feed composed of voices and static.
- Miller observes with horror as the OPA youth treat the sounds of the dying station as entertainment, mixing the transmissions into dance music.
- The transmissions reveal a fragmented, deteriorating consciousness that mimics human speech and medical records as the station's systems fail.
- Despite his desire to distance himself from the tragedy, Miller feels a compulsive need to listen to the station's final, agonizing transformation.
And now they were making music from the screams of the dying. Of the dead. They were dancing to it in the low-rent clubs.
âMi cama es su cama,â Diogo said. Miller lay down.
Diogo stepped into the small shower , and the sound of water against
flesh drowned out the air cycler . Even on board ship, Miller hadnâ t lived in
physical circumstances this intimate with anyone since his marriage. Still,
he wouldnâ t have gone as far as to call Diogo a friend.
Opportunity was thinner on Tycho than heâd hoped, and he didnâ t have
much by way of references. The few people who knew him werenât likely
to speak on his behalf. But surely thereâd be something. All he needed was
a way to remake himself, to start over and be someone differen t from who
heâd been.
Assuming, of course, that Earth or Marsâwhichever one came out on
top of the warâ didnâ t then wipe the OPA and all the stations loyal to it out
of the sky. And that the protom olecule didnâ t escape Eros and slaughter a
planet. Or a station. Or him. He had a momentâ s chill, recalling that there
was still a samp le of the thing on board the Roci. If something happened
with it, Holden and Naomi, Alex and Amos might all join Julie long before
Miller did.
He told himself that wasnâ t his problem anymore. Still, he hoped
theyâd be all right. He wanted them to be well, even if he wasnâ t.
âOi, Pampaw ,â Diogo said as the door to the public hall slid open.
âYou hear that Eros started talking?â
Miller lifted himself to one elbow .
âSĂ,â Diogo said. âWhatever that shit is, it started broadcasting.
Thereâ s even words and shit. Iâve got a feed. Y ou want a listen?â
No, Miller thought. No, I have seen those corridors . Whatâ s happened
to those people almost happened to me. I donât want anything to do with
that abomination.
âSure,â he said.
Diogo scooped up his own hand terminal and keyed in something.
Miller âs terminal chimed that it had received the new feed route.
âChicĂĄ perdĂda in ops been mixing a bunch of it to bhangra,â Diogo
said, making a shifting dance move with his hips. âHard-core, eh?â
Diogo and the other OPA irregulars had breached a high-value
research station, faced down one of the most powerful and evil corporations
in a history of power and evil. And now they were making music from the
screams of the dying. Of the dead. They were dancing to it in the low-rent
clubs. What it must be like, Miller thought, to be young and soulless.
But no. That wasnâ t fair. Diogo was a good kid. He was just naive. The
universe would take care of that, given a little time.
âHard-core,â Miller said. Diogo grinned.
The feed sat in queue, waiting. Miller turned out the lights, letting the
little bed bear him up against the press of spin. He didnâ t want to hear. He
didnâ t want to know . He had to.
At first, the sound was nothingâelectric squeals and a wildly fluting
static. Then, maybe somewhere deep in the back of it, music. A chorus of
violas churning away together in a long, distant crescendo. And then, as
clear as if someone were speaking into a microphone, a voice.
âRabbits and hamsters. Ecologically unstabilizing and round and blue
as moonbeams. August.â
It almost certainly wasnâ t a real person. The computer systems on Eros
could generate any number of perfectly convincing dialects and voices.
Menâ s, womenâ s, childrenâ s. And how many millions of hours of data could
there be on the computers and storage dumps all through the station?
Another electronic flutter , like finches looped back against themselves.
A new voiceâfeminine and soft this timeâwith a throbbing pulse behind
it.
âPatient complains of rapid heartbeat and night sweats. Symptom
onset reported as three months previous, but with a historyâŚâ
The voice faded , and the throbb ing rose. Like an old man with Swiss
cheese holes in his brain, the complex system that had been Eros was dying,
changing, losing its mind. And because Protogen had wired it all for sound,
Miller could listen to the station fail.
âI didnâ t tell him, I didnâ t tell him, I didnâ t tell him. The sunrise. Iâve
never seen the sunrise.â
The Ghost of Ceres
- Miller listens to the haunting, fragmented transmissions of Eros Station as its complex systems and inhabitants slowly die.
- Attempting to find low-level security work on Tycho, Miller is rejected for being overqualified and having too much baggage.
- The job interview reveals that Miller's reputation is now inextricably linked to the OPA and the catastrophic events at the station.
- Fred Johnson recognizes Miller's unique tactical value, offering him a role in a conflict that has escalated beyond a simple war.
Like an old man with Swiss cheese holes in his brain, the complex system that had been Eros was dying, changing, losing its mind.
A new voiceâfeminine and soft this timeâwith a throbbing pulse behind
it.
âPatient complains of rapid heartbeat and night sweats. Symptom
onset reported as three months previous, but with a historyâŚâ
The voice faded , and the throbb ing rose. Like an old man with Swiss
cheese holes in his brain, the complex system that had been Eros was dying,
changing, losing its mind. And because Protogen had wired it all for sound,
Miller could listen to the station fail.
âI didnâ t tell him, I didnâ t tell him, I didnâ t tell him. The sunrise. Iâve
never seen the sunrise.â
Miller closed his eyes and slid down toward sleep, serenaded by Eros.
As consciousness faded, he imagined a body in the bed beside him, warm
and alive and breathing slowly in time with the rise and fall of the static.
The manager was a thin man, weedy , with hair combed high above his brow
like a wave that never crashed. The office hunched close around them,
humming at odd moments when the infrastructureâwater , air, energyâof
Tycho impinged on it. A busine ss built between ducts, improvisational and
cheap. The lowest of the low .
âIâm sorry,â the manager said. Miller felt his gut tighten and sink. Of
all the humiliati ons the universe had in store for him, this one he hadnâ t
foreseen. It made him angry .
âYou think I canâ t handle it?â he asked, keeping his voice soft.
âItâs not that,â the weedy man said. âItâs⌠Look, between us, weâre
looking for a thumb, you know? Someoneâ s idiot kid brother could guard
this warehouse. Youâve got all this experience. What do we need with riot
control protocol s? Or investigative procedure? I mean, come on. This gig
doesnâ t even come with a gun.â
âI donâ t care,â Miller said. âI need something.â
The weedy man sighed and gave the exaggerated shrug of a Belter .
âYou need something else,â he said.
Miller tried not to laugh, afraid it would sound like despair . He stared
at the cheap plastic wall behind the manager until the guy started to get
uncomfortable. It was a trap. He was too experienced to start over. He knew
too much, so there was no going back and doing fresh beginnings.
âAll right,â he said at last, and the manager across the desk from him
let out a breath, then had the good grace to look embarrassed.
âCan I just ask,â the weedy man said. âWhy did you leave your old
job?â
âCeres changed hands,â Miller said, putting on his hat. âI wasnâ t on
the new team. That was all.â
âCeres?â
The manager looked confused, which in turn confused Miller. He
glanced down at his own hand terminal. There was his work history , just the
way heâd presented it. The manager couldnâ t have missed it.
âThatâ s where I was,â Miller said.
âFor the police thing. But I meant the last job. I mean, Iâve been
around, I understand not putting OP A work on your resume, but you have to
figure we all know that you were part of the thing⌠you know, with the
station. And all.â
âYou think I was working for the OP A,â Miller said.
The weedy man blinked.
âYou were,â he said.
Which, after all, was true.
Nothing had changed in Fred Johnsonâ s office, and everything had. The
furnishings, the smell of the air, the sense of its existing somewhere
between a boardroom and a command and control center . The generation
ship outside the window might have been half a percen t closer to
completion, but that wasnâ t it. The stakes of the game had shifte d, and what
had been a war was something else now. Something bigger . It shone in
Fredâ s eyes and tightened his shoulders.
âWe could use a man with your skills,â Fred agreed. âItâs always the
small-scale things that trip you up. How to frisk someone. That kind of
thing. Tycho security can handle themselves, but once weâre off our station
and shooting our way into someone elseâ s, not as much.â
The Price of Service
- Miller and Fred Johnson negotiate a working relationship as the stakes of the conflict shift from a political war to something larger and more existential.
- Fred acknowledges Miller's unique tactical skills but warns that he will sacrifice Miller to political 'wolves' to protect the OPA's standing.
- Miller reflects on the innate human drive to explore the darkness and the dangerous temptation posed by the protomolecule's promise of godhood.
- Despite the risk of being an 'independent' consultant with no official rank, Miller accepts the position to provide intelligence on the protomolecule.
- The conversation concludes with Miller identifying 'containment' as the most pressing problem facing Fred and the Belt.
When the time comes, I will hand-feed you to the wolves as the first chip I offer. I wonât protect you.
ship outside the window might have been half a percen t closer to
completion, but that wasnâ t it. The stakes of the game had shifte d, and what
had been a war was something else now. Something bigger . It shone in
Fredâ s eyes and tightened his shoulders.
âWe could use a man with your skills,â Fred agreed. âItâs always the
small-scale things that trip you up. How to frisk someone. That kind of
thing. Tycho security can handle themselves, but once weâre off our station
and shooting our way into someone elseâ s, not as much.â
âIs that something youâre looki ng to do more of?â Miller said, trying
to make it a casual joke. Fred didnât answer . For a moment, Julie stood at
the generalâ s side. Miller saw the pair of them reflected in the screens, the
man pensive, the ghost amused. Maybe Miller had gotten it wrong from the
start, and the divide between the Belt and the inner planets was something
besides politics and resource management. He knew as well as anyone that
the Belt offered a harder , more dangerous life than Mars or Earth provided.
And yet it called these peopleâthe best peopleâout of humanityâ s gravity
wells to cast themselves into the darkness.
The impulse to explore, to stretch, to leave home. To go as far as
possible out into the universe. And now that Protogen and Eros offered the
chance to become gods, to recreate humanity into beings that could go
beyond merely human hopes and dreams, it occurred to Miller how hard it
would be for men like Fred to turn that temptation away .
âYou killed Dresden,â Fred said. âThatâ s a problem.â
âIt needed to happen.â
âIâm not sure it did,â Fred replied, but his voice was careful. Testing.
Miller smiled, a little sadly .
âThatâ s why it needed to happen,â he said.
The small, coughing laugh told Miller that Fred understood him. When
the general turned back to consider him again, his gaze was steady .
âWhen it comes to the negotiat ing table, someoneâ s going to have to
answer for it. Y ou killed a defenseless man.â
âI did,â Miller said.
âWhen the time comes, I will hand-feed you to the wolves as the first
chip I of fer. I wonâ t protect you.â
âWouldnâ t ask you to protect me,â Miller said.
âEven if it meant being a Belter ex-cop in an Earth-side prison?â
It was a euphemism, and they both knew it. You belong with me, Julie
said. And so what did it matter , really , how he got there?
âIâve got no regrets,â he said, and half a breath later was shocked to
discover it was almost true. âIf thereâ s a judge out there who wants to ask
me about something, Iâll answer . Iâm looking for a job here, not protection.â
Fred sat in his chair , eyes narrow and thoughtful. Miller leaned
forward in his seat.
âYouâve got me in a hard position,â Fred said. âYouâre saying all the
right things. But I have a hard time trusting that youâd follow through.
Keeping you on the books would be risky . It could undermine my position
in the peace negotiations.â
âItâs a risk,â Miller said. âBut Iâve been on Eros and Thoth station. I
flew on the Rocinante with Holden and his crew . When it comes to analysis
of the protomole cule and how we got into this mess, there isnât anyone in a
better position to give you information. You can argue I knew too much.
That I was too valuable to let go.â
âOr too dangerous.â
âSure. Or that.â
They were silent for a moment. On the Nauvoo, a bank of lights
glittered in a gold-and-green test pattern and then went dark.
âSecurity consultant,â Fred said. âIndependent. I wonâ t give you a
rank.â
Iâm too dirty for the OP A, Miller thought with a glow of amusement.
âIf it comes with my own bunk, Iâll take it,â he said. It was only until
the war was over. After that, he was meat for the machine. That was fine.
Fred leaned back. His chair hissed softly into its new configuration.
âAll right,â Fred said. âHereâ s your first job. Give me your analysis.
Whatâ s my biggest problem?â
âContainment,â Miller said.
A Hell of a Funeral
- Fred Johnson hires Miller as an independent security consultant, acknowledging that Miller's reputation is too compromised for an official OPA rank.
- Miller identifies containment as the primary problem, arguing that information about the protomolecule cannot be kept secret indefinitely.
- The two discuss the impossibility of defending or destroying Eros Station through conventional means like nuclear weapons, which might only spread the infection.
- Miller proposes a radical solution: using the massive engines of the Mormon generation ship, the Nauvoo, to knock Eros into the sun.
- Fred begins calculating the logistics of the plan, noting that while it might prevent a biological catastrophe, it will deeply anger the Mormon community.
Blowing that thing up would be like blowing dandelion fluff into the breeze.
They were silent for a moment. On the Nauvoo, a bank of lights
glittered in a gold-and-green test pattern and then went dark.
âSecurity consultant,â Fred said. âIndependent. I wonâ t give you a
rank.â
Iâm too dirty for the OP A, Miller thought with a glow of amusement.
âIf it comes with my own bunk, Iâll take it,â he said. It was only until
the war was over. After that, he was meat for the machine. That was fine.
Fred leaned back. His chair hissed softly into its new configuration.
âAll right,â Fred said. âHereâ s your first job. Give me your analysis.
Whatâ s my biggest problem?â
âContainment,â Miller said.
âYou think I canât keep the information about Thoth station and the
protomolecule quiet?â
âOf course you canât,â Miller said. âFor one thing, too many people
already know . For another thing, one of themâ s Holden, and if he hasnâ t
already broadca st the whole thing on every empty frequency , he will soon.
And besides that, you canât make a peace deal without explaining what the
hellâs going on. Sooner or later , it has to come out.â
âAnd what do you advise?â
For a moment, Miller was back in the darkness, listening to the gibbers
of the dying station. The voices of the dead calling to him from across the
vacuum.
âDefend Eros,â he said. âAll sides are going to want samples of the
protomolecule. Locking down access is going to be the only way you get
yourself a seat at that table.â
Fred chuckled.
âNice thought,â he said. âBut how do propose we defend something
the size of Eros Station if Earth and Mars bring their navies to bear?â
It was a good point. Miller felt a tug of sorrow . Even though Julie Mao
âhis Julieâwas dead and gone, it felt like disloyalty to say it.
âThen you have to get rid of it,â he said.
âAnd how woul d I do that?â Fred said. âEven if we studded the thing
with nukes, how would we be sure that no little scrap of the thing would
make its way to a colony or down a well? Blowing that thing up would be
like blowing dandelion fluf f into the breeze.â
Miller had never seen a dandelion, but he saw the problem. Even the
smallest portion of the goo filling Eros might be enough to start the whole
evil experiment over again. And the goo thrived on radiation; simply
cooking the station might hurry the thing along its occult path rather than
end it. To be sure that the protomolecule on Eros never spread, theyâd need
to break everything on the station down to its constituent atomsâŚ
âOh,â Miller said.
âOh?â
âYeah. Y ouâre not going to like this.â
âTry me.â
âOkay . You asked. Y ou drive Eros into the sun.â
âInto the sun,â Fred said. âDo you have any idea how much mass
weâre talking about here?â
Miller nodded to the wide, clear expanse of window , to the
construction yards beyond it. T o the Nauvoo.
âBig engines on that thing,â Miller said. âGet some fast ships out to
the station, make sure no one can get in before you get there. Run the
Nauvoo into Eros Station. Knock it sunward.â
Fredâ s gaze turned inward as he planned, calculated.
âGot to make sure no one gets into it until it hits corona. Thatâll be
hard, but Earth and Mars are both just as interested in keeping the other guy
from having it as in getting it themselves.â
Iâm sorry I couldnâ t do better , Julie, he thought. But itâll be a hell of a
funeral.
Fredâ s breath grew slow and deep, his gaze flickering as if he were
reading something in the air that only he could see. Miller didnâ t interrupt,
even when the silence got heav y. It was almost a minute later that Fred let
out a short, percussive breath.
âThe Mormons are going to be pissed,â he said.
Chapter Fourty-Five
Holden
Naomi talked in her sleep. It was one of a dozen things Holden hadnâ t
known about her before tonight. Even though theyâd slept in crash couches
Intimacy and New Terms
- Fred Johnson shares a final, cryptic moment of reflection regarding Julie and the Mormons before the scene shifts.
- Holden discovers new physical and behavioral details about Naomi, such as her tendency to talk in her sleep and an old scar she never bothered to hide.
- The transition from crewmates to lovers prompts Holden to reflect on his own instinctive desire to please Naomi during the early stages of their relationship.
- Naomi establishes clear, pragmatic boundaries for their relationship, defining it as a serial monogamy with an 'exclusive-rights deal.'
- The conversation reveals Naomi's long-term planning, including the fact that she has eggs in storage on Europa and Luna.
Iâm a serial monogamist, so as far as Iâm concerned, this is an exclusive-rights deal until one of us decides it isnât.
Iâm sorry I couldnâ t do better , Julie, he thought. But itâll be a hell of a
funeral.
Fredâ s breath grew slow and deep, his gaze flickering as if he were
reading something in the air that only he could see. Miller didnâ t interrupt,
even when the silence got heav y. It was almost a minute later that Fred let
out a short, percussive breath.
âThe Mormons are going to be pissed,â he said.
Chapter Fourty-Five
Holden
Naomi talked in her sleep. It was one of a dozen things Holden hadnâ t
known about her before tonight. Even though theyâd slept in crash couches
a few feet apart on many occasions, heâd never heard it. Now , with her face
against his bare chest, he could feel her lips move and the soft, punctuated
exhalations of her words. He couldnâ t hear what she was saying.
She also had a scar on her back, just above her left buttock. It was
three inches long and had the uneven edges and rippling that came from a
tear rather than a slice. Naomi would never get herself knifed in a bar fight,
so it had to have come on the job. Maybe she had been climb ing through
tight spaces in the engine room when the ship maneuvered unexpectedly . A
competent plast ic surgeon could have made it invisible in one visit. That
she hadnâ t bothered and clearly didnâ t care was another thing he had learned
about her tonight.
She stopped murmuring and smacked her lips a few times, then said,
âThirsty .â
Holden slid out from under her and headed for the kitchen, knowing
that this was the obsequiousness that always accompanied a new lover . For
the next couple of weeks, he wouldnâ t be able to stop himself from fulfilling
every whim Naomi might have. It was a behavior some men carried at the
genetic level, their DNA wantin g to make sure that first time wasnâ t just a
fluke.
Her room was laid out differently than his, and the unfamiliarity made
him clumsy in the dark. He fumbled around for a few minutes in her small
kitchen nook, looking for a glass. By the time he found it, filled it, and
headed back into the bedroom, Naomi was sitting up in bed. The sheet lay
pooled on her lap. The sight of her half nude in the dimly lit room gave him
an embarrassingly sudden erection.
Naomi panned her gaze up his body , pausing at his midsection, then at
the water glass, and said, âIs that for me?â
Holden didnâ t know which thing she was asking about, so he just said,
âYes.â
âYou asleep?â
Naomiâ s face was on his belly , her breathing slow and deep, but to his
surprise she said, âNo.â
âCan we talk?â
Naomi rolled off him and pulle d herself up until her face lay next to
his on the pillow . Her hair fell across her eyes, and Holden reached out and
brushed it away in a move that felt so intimate and proprietary that he had
to swallow a lump in his throat.
âAre you about to get serious on me?â she asked, her eyes half lidded.
âYeah, I am,â he said, and kissed her forehead.
âMy last lover was over a year ago,â she said. âIâm a serial
monogamist, so as far as Iâm concerned, this is an exclusive -rights deal
until one of us decides it isnât. As long as I get advance warning that youâve
decided to end the deal, there wonât be any hard feelings. Iâm open to the
idea of it being more than just sex, but in my experience that will happen on
its own if itâs going to. I have eggs in storage on Europa and Luna, if that
matters to you.â
She rolled up onto her elbow , her face hovering over his.
âDid I cover all the bases?â she asked.
âNo,â he said. âBut I agree to the conditions.â
She flopped onto her back, letting out a long contented sigh.
âGood.â
Intimacy and Interruption
- Holden and Naomi navigate the transition from physical attraction to a committed, exclusive relationship.
- Naomi establishes clear boundaries and expectations for their partnership, emphasizing her history as a serial monogamist.
- The couple experiences a rare moment of domestic comfort and vulnerability, finding beauty in their shared imperfections.
- Their private sanctuary is shattered by a call from Fred Johnson, signaling a return to the high-stakes political crisis.
Holden tried to remember the last time the cold sanity following sex had been this comfortable, but maybe that had been never.
Naomi rolled off him and pulle d herself up until her face lay next to
his on the pillow . Her hair fell across her eyes, and Holden reached out and
brushed it away in a move that felt so intimate and proprietary that he had
to swallow a lump in his throat.
âAre you about to get serious on me?â she asked, her eyes half lidded.
âYeah, I am,â he said, and kissed her forehead.
âMy last lover was over a year ago,â she said. âIâm a serial
monogamist, so as far as Iâm concerned, this is an exclusive -rights deal
until one of us decides it isnât. As long as I get advance warning that youâve
decided to end the deal, there wonât be any hard feelings. Iâm open to the
idea of it being more than just sex, but in my experience that will happen on
its own if itâs going to. I have eggs in storage on Europa and Luna, if that
matters to you.â
She rolled up onto her elbow , her face hovering over his.
âDid I cover all the bases?â she asked.
âNo,â he said. âBut I agree to the conditions.â
She flopped onto her back, letting out a long contented sigh.
âGood.â
Holden wanted to hold her , but he felt too hot and sticky with sweat, so
he just reached down and held her hand instead. He wanted to tell her that
this meant something, that it was already more than sex for him, but all the
words he tried out in his head came of f sounding phony or maudlin.
âThank you,â he said instead, but she was already snoring quietly .
They had sex again in the morning. After a long night with too little sleep, it
wound up being far more effort than release for Holden, but there was a
pleasure in that too, as if less than mind-blowing sex somehow meant
something different and funnier and gentler than what theyâd already done
together . Afterw ard, Holden went to the kitchen and made coffee, then
brought it back to bed on a tray. They drank it without talking, some of the
shyness theyâd avoided the night before coming now in the artificial
morning of the roomâ s LEDs.
Naomi put her empty coffee cup down and touched the badly healed
lump in his recently broken nose.
âIs it hideous?â Holden asked.
âNo,â she said. âYou were too perfect before. It makes you seem more
substantial.â
Holden laughed. âThat sounds like a word you use to describe a fat
man or a history professor .â
Naomi smiled and touched his chest lightly with her finger tips. It
wasnâ t an attempt to arouse, just the exploration that came when satiation
had removed sex from the equat ion. Holden tried to remember the last time
the cold sanity following sex had been this comfortable, but maybe that had
been never. He was making plans to spend the remainder of the day in
Naomiâ s bed, running through a mental list of restaurants on the station that
delivered, when his terminal began buzzing on the nightstand.
âGod dammit,â he said.
âYou donât have to answer ,â Naomi replied, and moved her
explorations to his belly .
âYouâve been paying attention the last couple months, right?â Holden
said. âUnless itâs a wrong numb er, then itâs probably some end-of-the-solar -
system-type shit and we have five minutes to evacuate the station.â
Naomi kissed his ribs, which simultaneously tickled him and caused
him to question his assumptions about his own refractory period.
âThatâ s not funny ,â she said.
Holden sighed and picked up the terminal off the table. Fredâ s name
flashed as it buzzed again.
âItâs Fred,â he said.
Naomi stopped kissing him and sat up.
âYeah, then itâ s probably not good news.â
Holden tapped on the screen to accept the call and said, âFred.â
âJim. Come see me as soon as you get a chance. Itâ s important.â
âOkay ,â Holden replied. âBe there in half an hour .â
He ende d the call and tossed his hand terminal across the room onto
the pile of clothes heâd left at the foot of the bed.
âGoing to shower , then go see what Fred wants,â he said, pulling off
the sheet and getting up.
âShould I come, too?â Naomi asked.
âAre you kidding? Iâm never letting you out of my sight again.â
The Plan for Eros
- Holden and Naomi meet with Fred Johnson and Miller to discuss the urgent situation surrounding the infected station, Eros.
- An Earth science vessel, the Charles Lyell, is detected moving toward Eros to potentially recover samples of the protomolecule.
- Fred reveals a strategic map showing the shifting fleet positions of Earth and Mars as tensions escalate across the solar system.
- Miller proposes a high-stakes mission involving the Rocinante and six freighters to blockade the station's docking clusters.
- The plan aims to prevent any outside faction from accessing the dangerous biological material remaining on the station.
Miller was staring at him like an entomologist trying to figure out exactly where the pin went.
âYeah, then itâ s probably not good news.â
Holden tapped on the screen to accept the call and said, âFred.â
âJim. Come see me as soon as you get a chance. Itâ s important.â
âOkay ,â Holden replied. âBe there in half an hour .â
He ende d the call and tossed his hand terminal across the room onto
the pile of clothes heâd left at the foot of the bed.
âGoing to shower , then go see what Fred wants,â he said, pulling off
the sheet and getting up.
âShould I come, too?â Naomi asked.
âAre you kidding? Iâm never letting you out of my sight again.â
âDonâ t get creepy on me,â Naomi replied, but she was smiling when
she said it.
The first unpleasant surprise was Miller sitting in Fredâ s office when they
arrived. Holden nodded at the man once, then said to Fred, âWeâre here.
Whatâ s up?â
Fred gestured for them to sit, and when they had, he said, âWeâve been
discussing what to do about Eros.â
Holden shrugged. âOkay . What about it?â
âMiller thinks that someone will try to land there and recover some
samples of the protomolecule.â
âI have no troub le believing that someone will be that stupid,â Holden
said with a nod.
Fred stood up and tapped something on his desk. The screens that
normally showe d a view of the Nauvoo construction outside suddenly
switched to a 2-D map of the solar system, tiny lights of different colors
marking fleet positions. An angry swarm of green dots surrounded Mars.
Holden assumed that meant the greens were Earth ships. There were a lot of
red and yellow dots in the Belt and outer planets. Red was probably Mars,
then.
âNice map,â Holden said. âAccurate?â
âReasonably ,â Fred said. W ith a few quick taps on his desk, he zoomed
in on one portion of the Belt. A potato-shaped lump labeled EROS filled the
middle of the screen. Two tiny green dots inched toward it from several
meters away .
âThat is the Earth science vessel Charles Lyell moving toward Eros at
full burn. Sheâs accompanied by what we think is a Phantom-class escort
ship.â
âThe Rociâs Earth navy cousin,â Holden said.
âWell, the Phantom class is an older model, and largely releg ated to
rear-echelon assignments, but still more than a match for anything the OPA
can quickly field,â Fred replied.
âExactly the sort of ship that would be escorting science ships around,
though,â Holden said. âHowâd they get out there so quick? And why just
the two of them?â
Fred backed the map up until it was a distant view of the entire solar
system again.
âDumb luck. The Lyell was returning to Earth from doing non-Belt
asteroid mapping when it diverted course toward Eros. It was close; no one
else was. Earth must have seen a chance to grab a sample while everyone
else was figuring out what to do.â
Holden looked over at Naomi, but her face was unreadable. Miller was
staring at him like an entomologist trying to figure out exactly where the
pin went.
âSo they know , then?â Holden said. âAbout Protogen and Eros?â
âWe assume so,â Fred said.
âYou want us to chase them away? I mean, I think we can, but that will
only work until Earth can rerou te a few more ships to back them up. We
wonâ t be able to buy much time.â
Fred smiled.
âWe wonâ t need much,â he said. âW e have a plan.â
Holden nodded, waiting to hear it, but Fred sat down and leane d back
in his chair . Miller stood up and changed the view on the screen to a close-
up of the surface of Eros.
Now we get to find out why Fred is keeping this jackal around, Holden
thought, but said nothing.
Miller pointed at the picture of Eros.
âEros is an old station. Lots of redundancy . Lot of holes in her skin,
mostly small maintenance airlocks,â the former detective said. âThe big
docks are in five main clusters around the station. Weâre looking at sending
six supply freighters to Eros, along with the Rocinante. The Roci keeps the
science vessel from landing, and the freighters secure themselves to the
station, one at each docking cluster .â
âYouâre sending people in?â Holden said.
The Plan for Eros
- Miller and Fred Johnson reveal a plan to use the massive generation ship Nauvoo as a kinetic weapon to knock Eros into the sun.
- The strategy involves booby-trapping docking clusters with high-yield fusion warheads to deter UN or Martian interference.
- The Rocinante is tasked with providing the first line of defense by intercepting any science vessels attempting to land on the station.
- Miller intends to lead a security team on the surface to ensure no protomatter-infected entities escape during the operation.
- Despite the risks of shattering the asteroid, Holden agrees to the plan to prevent the protomolecule from falling into any government's hands.
All his smiles looked like he was hearing a good joke at a funeral.
Holden nodded, waiting to hear it, but Fred sat down and leane d back
in his chair . Miller stood up and changed the view on the screen to a close-
up of the surface of Eros.
Now we get to find out why Fred is keeping this jackal around, Holden
thought, but said nothing.
Miller pointed at the picture of Eros.
âEros is an old station. Lots of redundancy . Lot of holes in her skin,
mostly small maintenance airlocks,â the former detective said. âThe big
docks are in five main clusters around the station. Weâre looking at sending
six supply freighters to Eros, along with the Rocinante. The Roci keeps the
science vessel from landing, and the freighters secure themselves to the
station, one at each docking cluster .â
âYouâre sending people in?â Holden said.
âNot in,â Miller replied. âJust on. Surface work. Anyway , the sixth
freighter evacuates the crews once the others are docked. Each abandoned
freighter will have a couple dozen high-yield fusion warheads wired to the
shipâ s proximity detectors. Anything tries to land at the docks, and thereâ s a
few-hundred-megaton fusion explosion. It should be enough to take out the
approaching ship, but even if it doesnâ t, the docks will be too slagged to
land at.â
Naomi cleared her throat. âUh, the UN and Mars both have bomb
squads. Theyâll figure out how to get past your booby traps.â
âGiven enough time,â Fred agreed.
Miller continued as though he hadnâ t been interrupted.
âThe bombs are just a second line of deterrence. Rocinante first,
bombs second. Weâre trying to buy Fredâ s people enough time to prep the
Nauvoo. â
âThe Nauvoo? â Holden said, and half a breath later, Naomi whistled
low. Miller nodded to her almost as if he were accepting applause.
âThe Nauvoo âs launching in a long parabolic course, building up
speed. Itâll hit Eros at a velocity and angle calculated to knock Eros toward
the sun. Set off the bombs too. Between the impact energy and the fusion
warheads, we figure the surface of Erosâll be hot and radioactive enough to
cook anything that tries to land until itâs too damn late,â Miller finished,
then sat back down. He looked up as if he was waiting for reactions.
âThis was your idea?â Holden asked Miller .
âNauvoo part was. But we didnâ t know about the Lyell when we first
talked about it. The booby trap thingâ s kind of improvised. I think itâll
work, though. Buy us enough time.â
âI agree,â Holden said. âWe need to keep Eros out of anyoneâ s hands,
and I canât think of a better way to do it. Weâre in. Weâll shoo the science
ship away while you do your work.â
Fred leaned forward in his chair with a creak and said, âI knew youâd
be on board. Miller was more skeptical.â
âThrowing a million people into the sun seemed like somethi ng you
might balk at,â the detective said with a humorless grin.
âThereâ s nothing human left on that station. Whatâ s your part in all of
this? Y ou armchair quarterbacking now?â
It came out nastier than heâd intended, but Miller didnâ t appear
offended.
âIâll be coordinating security .â
âSecurity? Why will they need security?â
Miller smiled. All his smiles looked like he was hearing a good joke at
a funeral.
âIn case something crawls out of an airlock, tries to thumb a ride,â he
said.
Holden frowned. âI donât like to think those things can get around in
vacuum. I donâ t like that idea at all.â
âOnce we bring the surface temp of Eros up to a nice balmy ten
thousand degrees, Iâm thinking it wonâ t matter much,â Miller replied.
âUntil then, best be safe.â
Holden found himself wishing he shared the detectiveâ s confidence.
âWhat are the odds the impact and detonations just break Eros into a
million pieces and scatter them all over the solar system?â Naomi asked.
âFredâ s got some of his best engineers calculating everything to the
last decimal to make sure that doesnâ t happen,â Miller replied. âTycho
helped build Eros in the first place. Theyâve got the blueprints.â
The Protomolecule Standoff
- Miller and Fred Johnson discuss the technical risks of the Eros impact mission, relying on Tycho's original blueprints to prevent the asteroid from shattering.
- Fred Johnson demands that Holden surrender the last remaining sample of the protomolecule before the mission begins.
- Holden initiates a high-stakes standoff by ordering Amos to seal the Rocinante and shoot his way out of Tycho Station if the crew is detained.
- Miller de-escalates the tension by arguing that Holdenâs stubborn idealism makes him the safest person to guard the sample.
- The group acknowledges that keeping the sample on the ship serves as a deterrent against those who might want to destroy the Rocinante.
Amos will absolutely shoot his way free, even if it means he goes down with the ship.
âOnce we bring the surface temp of Eros up to a nice balmy ten
thousand degrees, Iâm thinking it wonâ t matter much,â Miller replied.
âUntil then, best be safe.â
Holden found himself wishing he shared the detectiveâ s confidence.
âWhat are the odds the impact and detonations just break Eros into a
million pieces and scatter them all over the solar system?â Naomi asked.
âFredâ s got some of his best engineers calculating everything to the
last decimal to make sure that doesnâ t happen,â Miller replied. âTycho
helped build Eros in the first place. Theyâve got the blueprints.â
âSo,â said Fred. âLetâ s deal with the last bit of business.â
Holden waited.
âYou still have the protomolecule,â Fred said.
Holden nodded again. âAnd?â
âAnd,â replied Fred. âAnd the last time we sent you out, your ship was
almost wrecked. Once Eros has been nuked, it will be the only confirmed
sample around, outside of what might still be on Phoebe. I canât find any
reason to let you keep it. I want it to remain here on T ycho when you go.â
Holden stood up, shaking his head.
âI like you, Fred, but Iâm not handing that stuff over to anyone who
might see it as a bar gaining chip.â
âI donât think you have a lot ofââ Fred started, but Holden held up a
finger and cut him off. While Fred stared at him in surprise, he grabbed his
terminal and opened the crew channel.
âAlex, Amos, either of you on the ship?â
âIâm here,â Amos said a second later . âFinishing up someââ
âLock it down,â Holden said over him. âRight now. Seal it up. If I
donât call you in an hour , or if anyone other than me tries to board, leave the
dock and fly away from Tycho at best possible speed. Direction is your
choice. Shoot your way free if you have to. Read me?â
âLoud and clear , Cap,â Amos said. If Holden had asked him to get a
cup of cof fee, Amos would have sounded exactly the same.
Fred was still staring at him incredulously .
âDonâ t force this issue, Fred,â Holden said.
âIf you think you can threaten me, youâre mistaken,â Fred said, his
voice flat and frightening.
Miller laughed.
âSomething funny?â Fred said.
âThat wasnâ t a threat,â Miller replied.
âNo? What would you call it?â
âAn accurate report of the world,â Miller said. He stretched slowly as
he talked. âIf it was Alex on board, he might think the captain was trying to
intimidate someone, maybe back down at the last minute. Amos, though?
Amos will absolutely shoot his way free, even if it means he goes down
with the ship.â
Fred scowled, and Miller shook his head.
âItâs not a bluf f,â Miller said. âDonâ t call it.â
Fredâ s eyes narrowed, and Holden wondered if heâd finally gone too
far with the man. He certainly wouldnâ t be the first person Fred Johnson
had ordered shot. And he had Miller standing right next to him. The
unbalanced detective would probably shoot him at the first hint someone
thought it was a good idea. It shook Holdenâ s confidence in Fred that Miller
was even here.
Which made it a little more surprising when Miller saved him.
âLook,â the detective said. âFac t is, Holden is the best person to carry
that shit around until you decide what to do with it.â
âTalk me into it,â Fred said, his voice still tight with anger .
âOnce Eros goes up, he and the Roci are going to have their asses
hanging in the breeze. Someone might be angry enough to nuke him just on
general principles.â
âAnd how does that make the sample safer with him?â Fred asked, but
Holden had understood Miller âs point.
âThey might be less inclined to blow me up if I let them know that Iâve
got the sample and all the Protogen notes,â he said.
âWonât make the sample safer ,â Miller said. âBut it makes the mission
more likely to work. And thatâs the point, right? Also, heâs an idealist,â
Miller continue d. âOffer Holden his weight in gold and heâll just be
offended you tried to bribe him.â
Naomi laughed. Miller glanced at her, a small shared smile at the
The Price of Trust
- Miller advocates for Holden to keep the protomolecule sample, arguing that Holden's incorruptible idealism makes him more reliable than Fredâs large organization.
- Fred Johnson expresses deep frustration and a sense of betrayal over the lack of trust shown by Holden and Miller, nearly reaching a violent breaking point.
- The mission shifts to Eros as Holden and his crew depart, leaving Miller to face the professional consequences of siding against the OPA leadership.
- Miller oversees the seizure of the Nauvoo, a massive Mormon generation ship designed as a cathedral for the stars, now being repurposed for a desperate mission.
- A group of religious resisters attempts to block the OPA's takeover of the ship, forcing Miller to consider using gas to clear the engineering ducts.
Offer Holden his weight in gold and heâll just be offended you tried to bribe him.
âAnd how does that make the sample safer with him?â Fred asked, but
Holden had understood Miller âs point.
âThey might be less inclined to blow me up if I let them know that Iâve
got the sample and all the Protogen notes,â he said.
âWonât make the sample safer ,â Miller said. âBut it makes the mission
more likely to work. And thatâs the point, right? Also, heâs an idealist,â
Miller continue d. âOffer Holden his weight in gold and heâll just be
offended you tried to bribe him.â
Naomi laughed. Miller glanced at her, a small shared smile at the
corner of his mouth, then turned back to Fred.
âAre you saying he can be trusted and I canâ t?â Fred said.
âI was thinking more about the crew ,â Miller said. âHoldenâ s got a
small bunch, and they do what he says. They think heâs righteo us, so they
are too.â
âMy people follow me,â Fred said.
Miller âs grin was weary and unassailable.
âThereâ s a lot of people in the OP A,â he said.
âThe stakes are too high,â Fred said.
âYouâre kind of in the wrong career for safe,â Miller said. âIâm not
saying itâ s a great plan. Just you wonâ t get a better one.â
Fredâ s slitted eyes glittered with equal parts frustration and rage. His
jaw worked silently for a moment before he spoke.
âCaptain Holde n? Iâm disappointed with your lack of trust after all
Iâve done for you and yours.â
âIf the human race still exists a month from now, Iâll apologize,â
Holden said.
âGet your crew out to Eros before I change my mind.â
Holden rose, nodded to Fred, and left. Naomi walked at his side.
âWow, that was close,â she said under her breath.
Once theyâd left the office, Holden said, âI think Fred was half a
second from ordering Miller to shoot me.â
âMiller âs on our side. Havenâ t you figured that out yet?â
Chapter Fourty-Six
Miller
Miller had know n when heâd taken Holdenâ s side against his new boss that
there were going to be consequ ences. His position with Fred and the OPA
was tenuous to start with, and pointing out that Holden and his crew were
not only more dedicated but also more trustworthy than Fredâ s people
wasnâ t the thing you did when you were kissing up. That it was the truth
only made it worse.
Heâd expected some kind of payback. He would have been naive not
to.
âRise up, O men of God, in one united throng,â the resisters sang.
âBring in the days of br o-ther -hood, and end the night of wr ong⌠â
Miller took off his hat and ran fingers through his thinning hair. It
wasnâ t going to be a good day .
The interior of the Nauvoo showed more patchwork and process than
its hull suggested. Two kilometers long, its designers had built it as more
than a huge ship. The great levels stacked one atop the other; alloy girders
worked organically with what would have been pastoral meadows. The
structure echoed the greatest cathedrals of Earth and Mars, rising up
through empty air and giving both thrust-gravity stability and glory to God.
It was still meta l bones and woven agricultural substrate, but Miller could
see where it was all heading.
A gener ation ship was a statem ent of overarching ambition and utter
faith. The Mormons had known that. Theyâd embraced it. Theyâd
constructed a ship that was prayer and piety and celebration all at the same
time. The Nauvoo would be the greatest temple mankind had ever built. It
would shepherd its crew through the uncrossable gulfs of interstellar space,
humanityâ s best hope of reaching the stars
Or it would have been, if not for him.
âYou want us to gas them, Pampaw?â Diogo asked.
Miller considere d the resisters. At a guess, there might have been two
hundred of them strung in linked chains across the access paths and
engineering ducts. Transport lifts and industrial waldoes stood idle, their
displays dark, their batteries shorted.
âYeah, probably should,â Miller sighed.
The security teamâhis security teamânumbered fewer than three
dozen. Men and women more unified by the OPA-issued armbands than by
The Music of Corruption
- Miller and his OPA security team use a mixture of NNLP-alpha and THC to peacefully incapacitate Mormon protesters blocking the Nauvoo.
- The team spends hours clearing the ship of stowaways and repairing sabotage to ensure the vessel is ready for its mission against Eros.
- Miller reflects on the moral weight of his actions, wondering if he is saving lives by removing innocents from a doomed ship.
- While monitoring the Eros feed, Miller compares the haunting, corrupted audio of the infected station to the avant-garde music of a performance artist.
- The eerie transmissions from Eros consist of a multilingual jumble of voices and static that Miller suspects may contain hidden patterns or codes.
Just like the broken data stream, it was the music of corruption.
Or it would have been, if not for him.
âYou want us to gas them, Pampaw?â Diogo asked.
Miller considere d the resisters. At a guess, there might have been two
hundred of them strung in linked chains across the access paths and
engineering ducts. Transport lifts and industrial waldoes stood idle, their
displays dark, their batteries shorted.
âYeah, probably should,â Miller sighed.
The security teamâhis security teamânumbered fewer than three
dozen. Men and women more unified by the OPA-issued armbands than by
their training, experience, loyalt ies, or politics. If the Mormons had chosen
violence, it would have been a bloodbath. If theyâd put on environment
suits, the protest would have lasted hours. Days, possibly . Instead, Diogo
gave the signal, and three minute s later, four small comets arced out into the
null-g space, wavering on their tails of NNLP-alpha and
tetrahydrocannabinol.
It was the kindest, gentlest riot control device in the arsenal. Any of
the prote sters with compromise d lungs could still be in trouble, but within
half an hour, all of them would be relaxed into near stupor and high as a
kite. NNLPa and THC wasnâ t a combination Miller had ever used on Ceres.
If theyâd tried to stock it, it would have been stolen for office parties. He
tried to take some comfort in the thought. As if it would make up for the
lifetimes of dreams and labor he was taking away .
Beside him, Diogo laughed.
It took them three hours to make the primary sweep of the ship, and
another five to hunt down all the stowaways huddled in ducts and secure
rooms, waiting to make their presence known at the last minute and
sabotage the mission. As those were hauled weeping off the ship, Miller
wondered wheth er heâd just saved their lives. If all heâd done with his life
was keep Fred Johnson from deciding whether to let a handful of innocent
people die with the Nauvoo, or risk keeping Eros around for the inner
planets, that wasnâ t so bad.
As soon as Miller gave the word, the OPA tech team move d into
action, reengaging the waldoes and transports, fixing the hundred small acts
of sabot age that would have kept the Nauvoo âs engines from firing, clearing
out equipment they wanted to save. Miller watched industrial lifts big
enough to house a family of five shift crate after crate, moving out things
that had only recently been moved it. The docks were as busy as Ceres at
mid-shift. Miller half expected to see his old cohorts wandering among the
stevedores and lift tubes, keeping what passed for the peace.
In the quiet mom ents, he set his hand terminal to the Eros feed. Back
when heâd been a kid, there had been a performance artist making the
roundsâJila Sorormaya, her name was. As he recalled, sheâd intentionally
corrupted data-storage devices and then put the data stream through her
music kit. Sheâd gotten into trouble when some of the propriet ary code of
the storage device software got incorporated into her music and posted.
Miller hadnâ t been a sophisticate. Heâd figured another nutcase artist had to
get a real job, and the universe could only be a better place.
Listening to the Eros feedâRad io Free Eros, he called itâhe thought
maybe heâd been a little rough on old Jila. The squeaks and cross-chatter ,
the flow of empty noise punctuated by voices, were eerie and compelling.
Just like the broken data stream, it was the music of corruption.
âŚasciugar e il pus e che possano sentirsi meglioâŚ
âŚja minä nousi vat kuolleista ja halventaa kohtalo pakottaa minut ja
siskoniâŚ
âŚdo what you have toâŚ
Heâd listened to the feed for hours, picking out voices. Once, the
whole thing had fluttered, cutting in and out like a piece of equipment on
the edge of failure. Only after it had resumed did Miller wonder if the
stutters of quiet had been Morse code. He leaned against the bulkhead, the
overwhelming mass of the Nauvoo towering above him. The ship only half
Sacrifice of the Nauvoo
- Miller reflects on the Nauvoo, a massive generation ship originally built for Mormons that is now being repurposed as a kinetic weapon against Eros.
- The detective continues to experience hallucinations of Julie Mao, who acts as a sounding board for his guilt and his cynical views on humanity's reach into the stars.
- A group of Mormon technicians, now prisoners, confront Miller with religious vitriol, labeling him the Antichrist for the theft of their vessel.
- The OPA successfully begins the delicate process of moving the Nauvoo out of Tycho Station using a fleet of tugs and nanotubule tethers.
- Miller observes the ragtag nature of the OPA forces, realizing their strength lies in a desperate adaptability that those from Earth or Mars cannot fully grasp.
The ship only half born and already marked for sacrifice.
âŚasciugar e il pus e che possano sentirsi meglioâŚ
âŚja minä nousi vat kuolleista ja halventaa kohtalo pakottaa minut ja
siskoniâŚ
âŚdo what you have toâŚ
Heâd listened to the feed for hours, picking out voices. Once, the
whole thing had fluttered, cutting in and out like a piece of equipment on
the edge of failure. Only after it had resumed did Miller wonder if the
stutters of quiet had been Morse code. He leaned against the bulkhead, the
overwhelming mass of the Nauvoo towering above him. The ship only half
born and already marked for sacrifice. Julie sat beside him, looking up. Her
hair floated around her face; her eyes never stopped smiling. Whatever trick
of the imagination had kept his own internal Juliette Andromed a Mao from
coming back to him as her corpse, he thanked it.
It would have been something, wouldnâ t it? she said. Flying through
vacuum without a suit. Sleeping for a hundr ed years and waking up in the
light of a differ ent sun.
âI didnâ t shoot that fucker fast enough,â Miller said aloud.
He could have given us the stars.
A new voice broke in. A human voice shaking with rage.
âAntichrist!â
Miller blinked, returning to reality, and thumbed off the Eros feed. A
prisoner transport wound its lazy way through the dock, a dozen Mormon
technicians bound to its restra int poles. One was a young man with a
pocked face and hatred in his eyes. He was staring at Miller .
âYouâre the Antichrist, you vile excuse for a human! God knows you!
Heâll remember you!â
Miller tipped his hat as the prisoners ambled by .
âStars are better off without us,â he said, but too softly for anyo ne but
Julie to hear .
A dozen tugs flew before the Nauvoo, the web of nanotubule tethers
invisible at this distance. All Miller saw was the great behemoth, as much a
part of Tycho Station as the bulkheads and air, shift in its bed, shrug, and
begin to move. The tugsâ drive flares lit the interior space of the station,
flickering in their perfectly choreographed duties like Christma s lights, and
a nearly subliminal shudder passed through the deep steel bone s of Tycho.
In eight hours, the Nauvoo would be far enough out that the great engines
could be brought online withou t endangering the station with their exhaust
plume. It might be more than two weeks after that before it reached Eros.
Miller would beat it there by eighty hours.
âOi, Pampaw ,â Diogo said. âDone-done?â
âYeah,â Miller said with a sigh. âIâm ready . Letâs get everyone
together .â
The boy grinned. In the hours since the commandeering of the Nauvoo,
Diogo had adde d bright red plastic decorations to three of his front teeth. It
was apparently deeply meaning ful in the youth culture of Tycho Station,
and signified prowess, possibly sexual. Miller felt a momentâ s relief that he
wasnâ t hot-bunking at the boyâ s place anymore.
Now that he was running security ops for the OPA, the irregular nature
of the group was clearer to him than ever. There had been a time when heâd
thought the OP A might be something that could take on Earth or Mars when
it came to a real war. Certainly , they had more money and resources than
heâd thought. They had Fred Johnson. They had Ceres now, for as long as
they could hold it. Theyâd taken on Thoth Station and won.
And yet the same kids heâd gone on the assault with had been working
crowd control at the Nauvoo, and more than half of them would be on the
demolitions ship when it left for Eros. It was the thing that Havelock would
never understand. For that matter , it was the thing Holden would never
understand. Maybe no one who had lived with the certainty and support of a
natural atmosph ere would ever completely accept the power and fragility of
The Fragility of Articulation
- Miller reflects on the OPA's irregular nature, noting that their strength lies in a fast and flexible society born of necessity rather than the rigid discipline of inner planet navies.
- The OPA prepares a high-stakes mission to Eros using a demolitions ship loaded with enough fissionable material to make the asteroid's surface unapproachable for years.
- A tense exchange between Miller and Fred Johnson reveals a lack of mutual trust regarding the Rocinante and the missing sample of the protomolecule.
- Miller grapples with his own isolation, distinguishing between professional judgment and friendship while haunted by the memory of Julie Mao.
- The narrative suggests that without a formal peace treaty, the Belt is locked in a cycle of 'war without end' against the established powers of Earth and Mars.
Maybe no one who had lived with the certainty and support of a natural atmosphere would ever completely accept the power and fragility of a society based in doing what needed doing.
and signified prowess, possibly sexual. Miller felt a momentâ s relief that he
wasnâ t hot-bunking at the boyâ s place anymore.
Now that he was running security ops for the OPA, the irregular nature
of the group was clearer to him than ever. There had been a time when heâd
thought the OP A might be something that could take on Earth or Mars when
it came to a real war. Certainly , they had more money and resources than
heâd thought. They had Fred Johnson. They had Ceres now, for as long as
they could hold it. Theyâd taken on Thoth Station and won.
And yet the same kids heâd gone on the assault with had been working
crowd control at the Nauvoo, and more than half of them would be on the
demolitions ship when it left for Eros. It was the thing that Havelock would
never understand. For that matter , it was the thing Holden would never
understand. Maybe no one who had lived with the certainty and support of a
natural atmosph ere would ever completely accept the power and fragility of
a society based in doing what needed doing, in becoming fast and flexible,
the way the OP A had. In becoming articulated.
If Fred couldnâ t build himself a peace treaty , the OPA would never win
against the disci pline and unity of an inner planet navy . But they would also
never lose. W ar without end.
Well, what was history if not that?
And how would having the stars change anything?
As he walked to his apartment, he opened a channel request on his
hand terminal. Fred Johnson appeared, looking tired but alert.
âMiller ,â he said.
âWeâre getting ready to ship out if the ordinance is ready .â
âItâs loading now,â Fred replied. âEnough fissionable material to keep
the surface of Eros unapproachable for years. Be careful with it. If one of
your boys goes down for a smok e in the wrong place, we arenâ t going to be
able to replace the mines. Not in time.â
Not youâll all be dead. The weapons were precious, not the people.
âYeah, Iâll watch it,â Miller said.
âThe Rocinante âs already on its way .â
That wasnâ t something Miller needed to know , so there was some other
reason Fred had mentioned it. His carefully neutral tone made it something
like an accusation. The only controlled sample of protomolecule had left
Fredâ s sphere of influence.
âWeâll get out there to meet her in plenty of time to keep anybody off
of Eros,â Miller said. âShouldnâ t be a problem.â
On the tiny screen, it was hard to tell how genuine Fredâ s smile was.
âI hope your friends are really up for this,â he said.
Miller felt something odd. A little hollowness just below his
breastbone.
âThey arenâ t my friends,â he said, keeping his tone of voice light.
âNo?â
âI donât exactly have friends. Itâs more Iâve got a lot of people I used
to work with,â he said.
âYou put a lot of faith in Holden,â Fred said, making it almost a
question. A challenge, at least. Miller smiled, knowing that Fred would be
just as unsure if his was genuine.
âNot faith. Judgment,â he said.
Fred coughed out a laugh.
âAnd thatâ s why you donâ t have friends, friend.â
âPart of it,â Miller said.
There was nothing more to say. Miller dropped the connection. He was
almost at his hole, anyway .
It was nothing much. An anonymous cube on the station with even less
personality to it than his place back on Ceres. He sat on his bunk, checked
his terminal for the status of the demolitions ship. He knew that he should
just go up to the docks. Diogo and the others were assembling, and while it
wasnâ t likely that the drug haze of the pre-mission parties would allow them
all to arrive on time, it was at least possible. He didnâ t even have that
excuse.
Julie sat in the space behind his eyes. Her legs were folded under her.
She was beautiful. Sheâd been like Fred and Holden and Havelock.
Someone born in a gravity well who came to the Belt by choice . Sheâd died
for her choice. Sheâd come looking for help and killed Eros by doing it. If
sheâd stayed there, on that ghost shipâŚ
Ghosts and Nuclear Alliances
- Miller reflects on his obsession with Julie Mao, realizing he loves her because she sacrificed her privileged life to embrace the Belter cause.
- The protagonist boards the Talbot Leeds, a cramped and dilapidated demolition ship, to begin a thirteen-day mission with a crew of OPA radicals.
- The crew is in high spirits following news that Mars has taken drastic military action against the Phoebe science station.
- Diogo reveals that Mars 'autoclaved' the moon with nuclear weapons, leading the Belters to believe an unlikely alliance against Protogen is forming.
Dropped enough nukes on it to split it subatomic.
almost at his hole, anyway .
It was nothing much. An anonymous cube on the station with even less
personality to it than his place back on Ceres. He sat on his bunk, checked
his terminal for the status of the demolitions ship. He knew that he should
just go up to the docks. Diogo and the others were assembling, and while it
wasnâ t likely that the drug haze of the pre-mission parties would allow them
all to arrive on time, it was at least possible. He didnâ t even have that
excuse.
Julie sat in the space behind his eyes. Her legs were folded under her.
She was beautiful. Sheâd been like Fred and Holden and Havelock.
Someone born in a gravity well who came to the Belt by choice . Sheâd died
for her choice. Sheâd come looking for help and killed Eros by doing it. If
sheâd stayed there, on that ghost shipâŚ
She tilted her head, her hair swinging against the spin gravity . There
was a question in her eyes. She was right, of course. It would have slowed
things down, maybe. It wouldnâ t have stopped them. Protogen and Dresden
would have found her eventually . Would have found it. Or gone back and
dug up a fresh sample. Nothing would have stopped them.
And he knewâ knew the way he knew he was himselfâthat Julie
wasnâ t like the others. That sheâd understood the Belt and Belters, and the
need to push on. If not for the stars, at least close to them. The luxury
available to her was something Miller had never experienced, and never
would. But sheâd turned away . Sheâd come out here, and stayed even when
they were going to sell her racing pinnace. Her childhood. Her pride.
That was why he loved her .
When Miller reached the dock, it was clear something had happened. It
was in the way the dockwor kers held themselves and the looks half
amusement and half pleasure, on their faces. Miller signed in and crawled
through the awkward Ojino-Go uch-style airlock, seventy years out of date
and hardly larger than a torped o tube, into the cramped crew area of the
Talbot Leeds. The ship looked like it had been welded together from two
smaller ships, without particular concern for design. The acceleration
couches were stacked three deep. The air smelled of old sweat and hot
metal. Someone had been smoking marijuana recently enou gh that the
filters hadnâ t cleared it out yet. Diogo was there along with a half dozen
others. They all wore different uniforms, but they also all had the OPA
armband.
âOi, Pampaw! Kept top bunk ĂĄ dir .â
âThanks,â Miller said. âI appreciate that.â
Thirteen days. He was going to spend thirteen days sharing this tiny
space with the demolitions crew . Thirteen days pressed into these couches,
with megatons of fission mines in the shipâ s hold. And yet the others were
all smiling. Miller hauled himse lf up to the acceleration couch Diogo had
saved for him, and pointed to the others with his chin.
âSomeone have a birthday?â
Diogo gave an elaborate shrug.
âWhyâ s everyone in such a good fucking mood?â Miller said, more
sharply than heâd intended. Diogo took no offense. He smiled his great red-
and-white teeth.
âAudi-nichts?â
âNo, I havenâ t heard, or I wouldnâ t be asking,â Miller said.
âMars did the right thing,â Diogo said. âGot the feed off Eros, put two
and two, andââ
The boy slamme d a fist into his open palm. Miller tried to parse what
he was saying. Theyâd attacked Eros? Theyâd taken on Protogen?
Ah. Protogen. Protogen and Mars. Miller nodded. âThe Phoebe
science station,â he said. âMars quarantined it.â
âFuck that, Pampaw . Autoclaved it, them . Moo n is gone. Dropped
enough nukes on it to split it subatomic.â
They better have, Miller thought. It wasnâ t a big moon. If Mars had
really destroyed it and there was any protomolecule left on a hunk of
ejectaâŚ
âTu sabez?â Diogo said. âTheyâre on our side now. They get it. Mars-
OPA alliance.â
âYou donâ t really think that,â Miller said.
âNah,â Diogo said, just as pleased with himself in admitting that the
Quarantine and High-G Dreams
- Mars takes extreme measures to contain the protomolecule by nuking a moon of Saturn into subatomic debris.
- Miller finds a sliver of hope in the fact that someone in the Martian military recognized the existential threat and acted decisively.
- The crew prepares for a grueling thirteen-day high-g burn to reach their target and deploy nuclear mines.
- Holden experiences a sense of personal contentment and intimacy with Naomi despite the looming danger of their mission.
Saturn had one fewer moon, one more tiny, unformed, filamentous ringâif there was even enough matter left from the detonations to form that.
science station,â he said. âMars quarantined it.â
âFuck that, Pampaw . Autoclaved it, them . Moo n is gone. Dropped
enough nukes on it to split it subatomic.â
They better have, Miller thought. It wasnâ t a big moon. If Mars had
really destroyed it and there was any protomolecule left on a hunk of
ejectaâŚ
âTu sabez?â Diogo said. âTheyâre on our side now. They get it. Mars-
OPA alliance.â
âYou donâ t really think that,â Miller said.
âNah,â Diogo said, just as pleased with himself in admitting that the
hope was fragile at best and probably false. âBut donât hurt to dream, que
no?â
âYou donâ t think?â Miller said, and lay back.
The acceleration gel was too stiff to conform to his body at the dockâ s
one-third g, but it wasnâ t uncomfortable. He checked the news on his hand
terminal, and indeed someone in the Martian navy had made a judgment
call. It was a lot of ordinance to use, especially in the middle of a shooting
war, but theyâd expended it. Saturn had one fewer moon, one more tiny,
unformed, filamentous ringâif there was even enough matter left from the
detonations to form that. It looked to Miller âs unpracticed eye as if the
explosions had been designed to drop debris into the protective and
crushing gravity of the gas giant.
It was foolish to think it meant the Martian government wouldn ât want
samples of the protomolecule. It was naive to pretend that any organization
of that size and complexity was univocal about anything, much less
something as dangerous and transforming as this.
But still.
Perhaps it was enough just knowing that someone on the other side of
the political and military divide had seen the same evidence they had seen
and drawn the same conclusions. Maybe it left room for hope. He switched
his hand terminal back to the Eros feed. A strong throbbing sound danced
below a cascade of noise. Voices rose and fell and rose again. Data streams
spewed into one another , and the pattern-recognition servers burned every
spare cycle making something from the resultant mess. Julie took his hand,
the dream so convincing he could almost pretend he felt it.
You belong with me, she said.
As soon as itâs over, he thought. It was true he kept pushing back the
end point of the case. First find Julie, then avenge her, and now destroy the
project that had claimed her life. But after that was accomplished, he could
let go.
He just had this one last thing he needed to do.
Twenty minutes later, the Klax on sounded. Thirty minutes later, the
engines kicked on, pressing him into the acceleration gel at a joint-crushing
high-g burn for thirteen days, with one-g breaks for biological function
every four hours. And when they were done, the half-trained jack-of-all-
trades crew would be handling nuclear mines capable of annihilating them
if they screwed it up.
But at least Julie would be there. Not really , but still.
It didnâ t hurt to dream.
Chapter Fourty-Seven
Holden
Even the wet cellulose taste of reconstituted artificial scrambled eggs was
not enough to ruin Holdenâ s warm, self-satisfied glow . He shoveled the faux
eggs into his mouth, trying not to grin. Sitting at his left aroun d the galley
table, Amos ate with lip-smacking enthusiasm. To Holdenâ s right, Alex
pushed the limp eggs around on his plate with a piece of equally fake toast.
Across the table , Naomi sipped a cup of tea and looked at him from under
her hair . He stifled the ur ge to wink at her .
Theyâd talked about how to break the news to the crew but hadnâ t
come to any consensus. Holden hated to hide anything. Keeping it secret
made it seem dirty or shameful. His parents had raised him to believe that
sex was somethi ng you did in private not because it was embarrassing, but
because it was intimate. With five fathers and three mothers, the sleeping
arrangements were always complex at his house, but the discus sions about
Secrets and Scans
- Holden and Naomi struggle with how to reveal their new romantic relationship to the crew of the Rocinante.
- Amos immediately deduces their secret during breakfast, leading to a blunt and humorous confrontation.
- The crew reacts with casual acceptance, dismissing Holden's concerns about professionalism in favor of mutual support.
- The team transitions back to their mission at Eros, monitoring a silent UNN science ship and its escort.
âHoly shit, you guys are doing it!â
pushed the limp eggs around on his plate with a piece of equally fake toast.
Across the table , Naomi sipped a cup of tea and looked at him from under
her hair . He stifled the ur ge to wink at her .
Theyâd talked about how to break the news to the crew but hadnâ t
come to any consensus. Holden hated to hide anything. Keeping it secret
made it seem dirty or shameful. His parents had raised him to believe that
sex was somethi ng you did in private not because it was embarrassing, but
because it was intimate. With five fathers and three mothers, the sleeping
arrangements were always complex at his house, but the discus sions about
who was bedding with whom were never hidden from him. It left him with
a strong aversion to hiding his own activities.
Naomi, on the other hand, thought they shouldnâ t do anything to upset
the fragi le equilibrium theyâd found, and Holden trusted her instincts. She
had an insight into group dyna mics that he often lacked. So, for now, he
was following her lead.
Besides, it would have felt like boasting, and that would have been
rude.
Keeping his voice neutral and professional, he said, âNaomi, can you
pass the pepper?â
Amosâ head snapped up, and he dropped his fork on the table with a
loud clatter .
âHoly shit, you guys are doing it!â
âUm,â Holden said. âWhat?â
âSomethingâ s been screwy ever since we got back on the Roci, but I
couldnâ t figure. But thatâ s it! You guys are finally playing hide the weasel.â
Holden blinked twice at the big mechanic, unsure of what to say. He
glanced at Naomi for support , but her head was down, and her hair
completely covered her face. Her shoulders were shaking in silent laughter .
âJesus, Cap,â Amos said, a grin on his wide face. âIt fucking took you
long enough. If sheâd been throwing herself at me like that, Iâd have been
neck deep in that shit.â
âUh,â Alex said, looking shocked enough that it was clear he hadnâ t
shared Amosâ insights. âW ow.â
Naomi stopped laughing and wiped tears away from the corners of her
eyes.
âBusted,â she said.
âLook. Guys, itâs important that you know this doesnâ t affect ourââ
Holden said, but Amos cut him of f with a snort.
âHey , Alex,â Amos said.
âYo,â Alex replied.
âXO boning the captain going to make you a really shitty pilot?â
âDonâ t believe it will,â Alex said with a grin, exaggerating his drawl.
âAnd, oddly enough, I donâ t feel the need to be a lousy mechanic.â
Holden tried again. âI think itâ s important thatââ
âCapân?â Amos continued, ignoring him. âConsider that no one gives
a fuck, it wonâ t stop us from doing our jobs, and just enjoy it, since weâll
probably all be dead in a few days anyway .â
Naomi started laughing again.
âFine,â she said. âI mean, every one knows Iâm only doing it to get a
promotion. Oh, wait, right. Already the second-in-command. Hey, can I be
captain now?â
âNo,â Holden said, laughing. âItâs a shit job. Iâd never ask you to do
it.â
Naomi grinned and shrugged. See? Iâm not always right. Holden
glanced at Alex, who was looking at him with genuine affection, clearly
happy about the idea of him and Naomi together . Everything seemed right.
Eros spun like a potato-shaped top, its thick skin of rock hiding the horrors
inside. Alex brought them in close to do a thorough scan of the station. The
asteroid swelled on Holdenâ s screen until it looked close enough to touch.
At the other ops station, Naomi swept the surface with ladar , looking for
anything that might pose a danger to the Tycho freighter crews, still a few
days behind. On Holdenâ s tactic al display , the UNN science ship continued
to flare in a braking maneuver toward Eros, its escort right beside it.
âStill not talking, huh?â Holden asked.
Naomi shook her head, then tapped on her screen and sent the commâ s
monitoring information to his workstation.
âNope,â she said. âBut they see us. Theyâve been bouncing radar of f of
us for a couple hours now .â
Standoff at Eros
- The crew of the Rocinante arrives at Eros to conduct a scan while monitoring an approaching UNN science ship and its corvette escort.
- Captain Holden becomes suspicious of the UN corvette's silence, interpreting their lack of communication as a sign of hostile intent.
- The crew prepares for potential combat, with Naomi plotting firing solutions and Alex readying the ship for high-G maneuvers.
- Holden initiates contact with the UN ship, only to be met with a demand to leave the area or face immediate destruction.
- Recognizing the UN captain's likely inexperience and desire for glory, Holden prepares for a high-stakes diplomatic and tactical confrontation.
Eros spun like a potato-shaped top, its thick skin of rock hiding the horrors inside.
happy about the idea of him and Naomi together . Everything seemed right.
Eros spun like a potato-shaped top, its thick skin of rock hiding the horrors
inside. Alex brought them in close to do a thorough scan of the station. The
asteroid swelled on Holdenâ s screen until it looked close enough to touch.
At the other ops station, Naomi swept the surface with ladar , looking for
anything that might pose a danger to the Tycho freighter crews, still a few
days behind. On Holdenâ s tactic al display , the UNN science ship continued
to flare in a braking maneuver toward Eros, its escort right beside it.
âStill not talking, huh?â Holden asked.
Naomi shook her head, then tapped on her screen and sent the commâ s
monitoring information to his workstation.
âNope,â she said. âBut they see us. Theyâve been bouncing radar of f of
us for a couple hours now .â
Holden tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair and thought about the
choices. It was possible that the hull modifications Tycho had made to the
Roci were fooling the Earth corvetteâ s recognition software. They might just
ignore the Roci, thinking she was a Belter gas runner that happened to be
hanging around. But the Roci was running without a transponder , which
made her illegal no matter what hull configuration she was showing. That
the corvette wasnâ t trying to warn off a ship that was running dark made
him nervous. The Belt and the inner planets were in a shooting war. A
Belter ship with no identification was hanging around Eros while two Earth
ships flew toward it. No way any captain with half a brain would just ignore
them.
The corvetteâ s silence meant something else.
âNaomi, I have a feeling that corvette is going to try and blow us up,â
Holden said with a sigh.
âItâs what Iâd do,â she replied.
Holden tapped one last complic ated rhythm on his chair , then put his
headset on.
âAll right, I guess I make the first overture, then,â he said.
Not wishing to make their conversation public, Holden targeted the
Earther corvette with the Rocinante âs laser array and signaled a generic
linkup request. After a few seconds, the link established light went green,
and his earplugs began to hiss with faint background static. Holden waited,
but the UN ship of fered no greeting. They wanted him to speak first.
He flicked of f his mic, switching to the shipwide comm.
âAlex, get us moving. One g for now. If I canât bluff this guy, itâll be a
shooting match. Be ready to open her up.â
âRoger ,â drawled Alex. âGoinâ on the juice, just in case.â
Holden glanced over at Naomiâ s station, but sheâd already switc hed to
her tactical screen and had the Roci plotting firing solutions and jamming
tactics on the two approaching ships. Naomi had been in only one battle,
but she was reacting now like a seasoned veteran. He smiled at her back,
then turned around before she had time to realize he was staring.
âAmos?â he said.
âLocked down and shipshape down here, Cap. The Rociâs pawing at
the turf. Letâ s go kick some ass.â
Letâs hope we donâ t have to, Holden thought.
He turned his mic back on.
âThis is Captain James Holden of the Rocinante, calling the captain of
the approaching United Nations Navy corvette, call sign unknown. Please
respond.â
There was a static-filled pause, followed by âRocinante. Leave our
flight path immediately . If you do not begin moving away from Eros at best
possible speed, you will be fired upon.â
The voice was young. An aging corvette with the tedious task of
following an asteroid-mapping ship around wouldnâ t be a much sought after
command. The captain was probably a lieutenant without patrons or
prospects. Heâd be inexperienced, but he might see a confrontation as an
opportunity to prove himself to his superiors. And that made the next few
moments treacherous to navigate.
âSorry ,â said Holden. âStill donât know your call sign, or your name.
But I canât do what you want. In fact, I canât let anyone land on Eros. Iâm
A High-Stakes Standoff
- Holden uses the Rocinante's superior targeting systems to bluff and intimidate a young corvette captain into halting their approach to Eros.
- The standoff reveals Holden's tactical willingness to threaten a defenseless science vessel to ensure the corvette's mission failure.
- After the tension of the confrontation, the crew returns to a stationary position, though they remain wary of hidden communications.
- In the quiet aftermath, Naomi reflects on her previous treatment of Miller, acknowledging the debt they owe him for saving Holden's life.
Naomi was floating near her own station, two meters away, her hair unbound and drifting around her like a black cloud.
The voice was young. An aging corvette with the tedious task of
following an asteroid-mapping ship around wouldnâ t be a much sought after
command. The captain was probably a lieutenant without patrons or
prospects. Heâd be inexperienced, but he might see a confrontation as an
opportunity to prove himself to his superiors. And that made the next few
moments treacherous to navigate.
âSorry ,â said Holden. âStill donât know your call sign, or your name.
But I canât do what you want. In fact, I canât let anyone land on Eros. Iâm
going to need you to stop approaching the station.â
âRocinante, I donâ t think youââ
Holden took control of the Rociâs targeting system and began painting
the approaching corvette with its tar geting laser .
âLet me explain whatâ s happening here,â he said. âRight now, youâre
looking at your sensors, and youâre seeing what looks like a thrown-
together gas freighter thatâs giving your ship-recognition softwa re fits. And
all of a sudden, meaning right now, itâs painting you with a state-of -the-art
target-acquisition system.â
âWe donâ tââ
âDonâ t lie. I know thatâs whatâ s happening. So hereâ s the deal. Despite
how it looks, my ship is newer , faster , tougher , and better armed than yours.
The only way for me to really prove that is to open fire, and Iâm hoping not
to do that.â
âAre you threatening me, Rocinante ?â the young voice on Holdenâ s
headset said, its tone hitting just the right notes of arrogance and disbelief.
âYou? No,â said Holden. âIâm threatening the big, fat, slow-m oving,
and unarmed ship youâre suppos ed to be protecting. You keep flying toward
Eros, and I will unload everything Iâve got at it. I guarantee we will blow
that flying scien ce lab out of the sky. Now , itâs possible you might get us
while we do it, but by then your mission is screwed anyway , right?â
The line went silent again, only the hiss of background radiation
letting him know his headset hadnâ t died.
When his answer came, it came on the shipwide comms.
Alex said, âTheyâre stoppinâ, Captain. They just started hard brakinâ.
Tracking says theyâll be relative stopped about two million klicks out. Want
me to keep flyinâ toward âem?â
âNo, bring us back to our stationary position over Eros,â Holden
replied.
âRoger that.â
âNaomi,â Holde n said, spinning his chair around to face her. âAre they
doing anything else?â
âNot that I can see through the clutter of their exhaust. But they could
be tightb eaming messages the other direction and weâd never know ,â she
said.
Holden flipped the shipwide comm off. He scratched his head for a
minute, then unbuckled his restraints.
âWell, we stopped them for now. Iâm going to hit the head and then
grab a drink. W ant anything?â
âHeâ s not wrong, you know ,â Naomi said later that night.
Holden was floating in zero g on the ops deck, his station a few feet
away . Heâd turned down the deck lights, and the cabin was as dim as a
moonlit night. Alex and Amos were sleeping two decks below . They might
as well have been a million light-years away . Naomi was floating near her
own station, two meters away , her hair unbound and drifting around her like
a black cloud. The panel behind her lit her face in profil e: the long
forehead, flat nose, large lips. He could tell that her eyes were closed. He
felt like they were the only two people in the universe.
âWhoâ s not wrong?â he said, just to be saying something.
âMiller ,â she replied as though it were obvious.
âI have no idea what youâre talking about.â
Naomi laughed, then swatted with one hand to rotate her body and face
him in the air. Her eyes were open now, though with the panel lights behind
her, they were visible only as black pools in her face.
âIâve been thinking about Miller ,â she said. âI treated him badly on
Tycho. Ignored him because you were angry . I owed him better than that.â
âWhy?â
âHe saved your life on Eros.â
Uncompromising Perspectives in Zero G
- Naomi and Holden discuss the morality of Miller's decision to execute Dresden, highlighting their differing philosophies on justice.
- Naomi compares the Belt to a single distributed ship, suggesting that a threat to one node is a threat to the entire collective.
- Holden maintains a strict moral line, arguing that killing a defenseless man is murder regardless of the potential future threat he poses.
- Naomi identifies a paradox in Holden's character, noting that he hates Miller because they are both equally uncompromising in their beliefs.
- The conversation reveals the deep tension between individual moral purity and the pragmatic, often violent, necessities of survival in the Belt.
Naomi was floating near her own station, two meters away, her hair unbound and drifting around her like a black cloud.
âHeâ s not wrong, you know ,â Naomi said later that night.
Holden was floating in zero g on the ops deck, his station a few feet
away . Heâd turned down the deck lights, and the cabin was as dim as a
moonlit night. Alex and Amos were sleeping two decks below . They might
as well have been a million light-years away . Naomi was floating near her
own station, two meters away , her hair unbound and drifting around her like
a black cloud. The panel behind her lit her face in profil e: the long
forehead, flat nose, large lips. He could tell that her eyes were closed. He
felt like they were the only two people in the universe.
âWhoâ s not wrong?â he said, just to be saying something.
âMiller ,â she replied as though it were obvious.
âI have no idea what youâre talking about.â
Naomi laughed, then swatted with one hand to rotate her body and face
him in the air. Her eyes were open now, though with the panel lights behind
her, they were visible only as black pools in her face.
âIâve been thinking about Miller ,â she said. âI treated him badly on
Tycho. Ignored him because you were angry . I owed him better than that.â
âWhy?â
âHe saved your life on Eros.â
Holden snorted, but she kept going anyway .
âWhen you were in the navy ,â she finally said, âwhat were you
supposed to do when someone went crazy on the ship? Started doing things
that endangered everyone?â
Thinking they were talking about Miller , Holden said, âYou restrain
him and remove him as a danger to the ship and crew . But Fred didnâ tââ
Naomi cut him of f.
âWhat if itâ s wartime?â she said. âThe middle of a battle?â
âIf he canât be easily restrained, the chief of the watch has an
obligation to protect the ship and crew by whatever means necessary .â
âEven shooting him?â
âIf thatâs the only way to do it,â Holden replied. âSure. But it would
only be in the most pressing circumstances.â
Naomi nodded with her hand, sending her body slowly twisting the
other way. She stopped her motion with one unconscious gesture. Holden
was pretty good in zero g, but heâd never be that good.
âThe Belt is a network,â Naomi said. âItâs like one big distribute d ship.
We have nodes that make air, or water , or power , or structura l materials.
Those nodes may be separated by millions of kilometers of space, but that
doesnâ t make them any less interconnected.â
âI see where this is going,â Holden said with a sigh. âDresden was a
madman on the ship, Miller shot him to protect the rest of us. He gave me
that speech back on T ycho. Didnâ t buy it then either .â
âWhy?â
âBecause,â Hold en said. âDresden wasnâ t an immediate threat. He was
just an evil little man in an expensive suit. He didnâ t have a gun in his hand,
or his finger on a bomb trigger . And I will never trust a man who believes
he has the right to unilaterally execute people.â
Holden put his foot against the bulkhead and tapped off just hard
enough to float a few feet close r to Naomi, close enough to see her eyes,
read her reaction to him.
âIf that science ship starts flying toward Eros again, I will throw every
torpedo we have at it, and tell myself I was protecting the rest of the solar
system from whatâs on Eros. But I wonâ t just start shooting at it now, on the
idea that it might decide to head to Eros again, because thatâs murder . What
Miller did was murder .â
Naomi smiled at him, then grabbed his flight suit and pulled him close
enough for a kiss.
âYou might be the best person I know . But youâre totally
uncompromising on what you think is right, and thatâs what you hate about
Miller .â
âI do?â
âYes,â she said. âHeâ s totally uncompromising too, but he has different
ideas on how things work. You hate that. To Miller , Dresden was an active
threat to the ship. Every second he stayed alive endangered everyone else
around him. T o Miller , it was self-defense.â
âBut heâ s wrong. The man was helpless.â
âThe man talked the UN Navy into giving his company state-of- the-art
Uncompromising Morals and Eros
- Naomi challenges Holden's moral superiority, arguing that his hatred for Miller stems from their shared uncompromising nature rather than Miller's actions.
- The execution of Dresden is reframed as a pragmatic necessity to prevent a powerful monster from manipulating his way back into power.
- The political landscape shifts as news of Protogen's involvement in the Eros disaster breaks, temporarily de-escalating the conflict between Earth and Mars.
- Miller prepares to return to the source of the horror, listening to the haunting, repetitive transmissions emanating from the dying station of Eros.
Miller had known it was coming, and had made no attempt to fight or argue.
âYou might be the best person I know . But youâre totally
uncompromising on what you think is right, and thatâs what you hate about
Miller .â
âI do?â
âYes,â she said. âHeâ s totally uncompromising too, but he has different
ideas on how things work. You hate that. To Miller , Dresden was an active
threat to the ship. Every second he stayed alive endangered everyone else
around him. T o Miller , it was self-defense.â
âBut heâ s wrong. The man was helpless.â
âThe man talked the UN Navy into giving his company state-of- the-art
ships,â she said. âHe talked his company into murdering a million and a
half people. Everything Miller said about why the protomolecule is better
off with us was just as true about Dresden. How long is he in an OPA
lockup before he finds the jailer who can be bought?â
âHe was a prisoner ,â Holden said, feeing the argument slipping away
from him.
âHe was a monster with power , access, and allies who would have paid
any price to keep his science project going,â Naomi said. âAnd Iâm telling
you as a Belter , Miller wasnâ t wrong.â
Holden didnâ t answer; he just continued to float next to Naomi,
keeping himself in her orbit. Was he angrier about the killing of Dresden or
about Miller âs making a decision that disagreed with him?
And Miller had known. When Holden had told him to find his own
ride back to Tycho, heâd seen it in the detectiveâ s sad basset hound face.
Miller had known it was coming, and had made no attempt to fight or ar gue.
That meant that Miller had made his choice fully cognizant of the cost and
ready to pay it. That meant something. Holden wasnâ t sure exactly what,
but something.
A red telltale began flashing on the wall, and Naomiâ s panel woke up
and began throw ing data onto the screen. She pulled herself down to it
using the back of her chair , then tapped out several quick commands.
âShit,â she said.
âWhat is it?â
âThe corvette or science ship must have called for help,â Naomi said,
pointing at her screen. âWeâve got ships on their way from all over the
system.â
âHow many are coming?â Holden asked, trying to get a better look at
her screen.
Naomi made a small sound in the back of her throat, halfway between
a chuckle and a cough.
âAt a guess? All of them.â
Chapter Fourty-Eight
Miller
âYou are, and you arenâ t,â the Eros feed said through a semi-random
drumming of static. âY ou are, and you arenâ t. You are, and you arenâ t.â
The little ship shuddered and bumped. From a crash couch, one of the
OPA techs called out a string of obscenities remarkable more for
inventiveness than actual rancor . Miller closed his eyes, trying to keep the
micro-g adjustments of their nonstandard docking from nauseating him.
After days of joint-aching acceleration and an equally bruis ing braking
routine, the small shifts and movements felt arbitrary and strange.
âYou are, are, are, are, are, are, areâŚâ
Heâd spent some time listening to the newsfeeds. Three days after
theyâd left Tycho, the news of Protogenâ s involvement with Eros broke.
Amazingly , Hold en hadnâ t been the one to do it. Since then, the corporation
had gone from total denial, to blaming a rogue subcontractor , to claiming
immunity under an Earth defense secrets statute. It didnâ t sound good for
them. Earthâs blockade of Mars was still in place, but attention had shifted
to the power struggle within Earth, and the Martian navy had slowed its
burn, giving the Earth forces a little more breathing room before any
permanent decisions had to be made. It looked like theyâd postponed
Armageddon for a few weeks, anyway . Miller found he could take a certain
joy in that. It also left him tired.
More often, he listened to the voice of Eros. Sometimes he watched
the video feeds too, but usually , he just listened. Over the hours and days,
he began to hear, if not patterns, at least common structures. Some of the
voices spooling out of the dying station were consistentâbroad casters and
The Music of Eros
- Miller listens to the haunting, repetitive audio transmissions leaking from Eros, which alternate between random static and fixated phrases.
- The OPA team successfully grapples the spinning station, forcing the crew to work against spin gravity while rigging fusion bombs.
- Miller prepares for the mission using substandard, recycled OPA gear that smells of previous owners and feels unreliable.
- Accepting his fate, Miller feels a sense of certainty that he will not be leaving the station, viewing this as the final act of his career.
- The mission requires precise engineering to place bombs on the exposed metal plates while the team clings to the surface above the vacuum.
Hours of random, fluting static and snatched bits of phrases would give way, and Eros would latch on to some word or phrase, fixating on it with greater and greater intensity until it broke apart and the randomness poured back in.
burn, giving the Earth forces a little more breathing room before any
permanent decisions had to be made. It looked like theyâd postponed
Armageddon for a few weeks, anyway . Miller found he could take a certain
joy in that. It also left him tired.
More often, he listened to the voice of Eros. Sometimes he watched
the video feeds too, but usually , he just listened. Over the hours and days,
he began to hear, if not patterns, at least common structures. Some of the
voices spooling out of the dying station were consistentâbroad casters and
entertainers who were overrepresented in the audio files archives, he
guessed. There seemed to be some specific tendencies in, for want of a
better term, the music of it too. Hours of random, fluting static and snatched
bits of phrases would give way, and Eros would latch on to some word or
phrase, fixating on it with greater and greater intensity until it broke apart
and the randomness poured back in.
ââŚare, are, are, ARE, ARE, ARE⌠â
Arenât, Miller thought, and the ship suddenly shoved itself up, leaving
Miller âs stomach about half a foot from where it had been. A series of loud
clanks followed, and then the brief wail of a Klaxon.
âDieu! Dieu!â someone shouted. âBombs son vamen roja! Going to fry
it! Fry us toda!â
There was the usual polite chuckle that the same joke had occasioned
over the course of the trip, and the boy whoâd made itâa pimp ly Belter no
more than fifteen years oldâgrinned with pleasure at his own wit. If he
didnâ t stop that shit, someone was going to beat him with a crowbar before
they got back to T ycho. But Miller figured that someone wasnâ t him.
A mass ive jolt forward pushed him hard into the couch, and then
gravity was back, the familiar 0.3 g. Maybe a little more. Except that with
the airlocks pointing toward shipâ s down, the pilot had to grapple the
spinning skin of Erosâ belly first. The spin gravity made what had been the
ceiling the new floor; the lowest rank of couches was now the top; and
while they rigged the fusion bombs to the docks, they were all going to
have to climb up onto a cold, dark rock that was trying to fling them of f into
the vacuum.
Such were the joys of sabotage.
Miller suited up. After the military-grade suits of the Rocinante, the
OPAâs motley assortment of equipment felt like third-hand clothes. His suit
smelled of someone elseâs body , and the Mylar faceplate had a deformation
where it had cracked and been repaired. He didnâ t like thinking about what
had happened to the poor bastard whoâd been wearing it. The magnetic
boots had a thick layer of corroded plastic and old mud betwee n the plates
and a triggering mechanism so old that Miller could feel it click on and off
even before he moved his foot. He had the image of the suit locking on to
Eros and never letting go.
The thought made him smile. You belong with me, his own private
Julie had said. It was true, and now that he was here, he felt perfectly
certain that he wasnâ t going to leave. Heâd been a cop for too long, and the
idea of trying to reconnect to humanity again filled him with the
presentiment of exhaustion. He was here to do the last part of his job. And
then he was done.
âOi! Pampaw!â
âIâm coming,â Miller said. âHold your damn horses. Itâs not like the
stationâ s going anyplace.â
âA rainb ow is a circle you canât see. Canâ t see. Canâ t see,â Eros said in
a childâ s singsong voice. Miller turned down the volume of his feed.
The rocky surface of the station had no particular purchase for the suits
and control waldoes. Two other ships had made polar landings where there
was no spin gravity to fight against, but the Coriolis would leave everyone
with a subliminal nausea. Miller âs team had to keep to the exposed metal
plates of the dock, clinging like flies looking down into the starlit abyss.
Engineering the placement of the fusion bombs wasnâ t trivial work. If
Rigging the Eros Trap
- Miller and a team of technicians land on the surface of Eros to plant fusion bombs designed to scrub the station clean.
- The mission is a delicate engineering feat, as improper detonation could crack the station and scatter the protomolecule across the solar system.
- The team works under the looming threat of the Nauvoo, a massive ship acting as a missile aimed directly at the station.
- Miller realizes his role as security is largely superfluous as no horrors emerge from the airlocks during the installation process.
The station could crack open like an egg, spreading the protomolecule through the wide, empty track of the solar system like scattering a handful of dust.
âA rainb ow is a circle you canât see. Canâ t see. Canâ t see,â Eros said in
a childâ s singsong voice. Miller turned down the volume of his feed.
The rocky surface of the station had no particular purchase for the suits
and control waldoes. Two other ships had made polar landings where there
was no spin gravity to fight against, but the Coriolis would leave everyone
with a subliminal nausea. Miller âs team had to keep to the exposed metal
plates of the dock, clinging like flies looking down into the starlit abyss.
Engineering the placement of the fusion bombs wasnâ t trivial work. If
the bombs didnâ t pump enough energy into the station, the surface might
cool enough to give someone another chance to put a science team on it
before the penu mbra of the sun swallowed it and whatever parts of the
Nauvoo were still clinging to it. Even with the best minds of Tycho, there
was still the chance that the detonations wouldnâ t sync up. If the pressure
waves traveling through the rock amplified in ways they hadnâ t anticipated,
the station could crack open like an egg, spreading the protomolecule
through the wide, empty track of the solar system like scattering a handful
of dust. But the difference betw een success and disaster might be literally a
question of meters.
Miller crawled up the airlock and out to the station surface. The first
wave of technicians were settin g up resonance seismographs, the glow of
the work lights and readouts the brightest thing in the universe. Miller set
his boots on a wide swath of a ceramic steel alloy and let the spin stretch
the kinks out of his back. After days in the acceleration couch, the freedom
felt euph oric. One of the techs raised her hands, the physical Belter idiom
that called for attention. Miller upped the suit volume.
ââŚinsectes rampant sur ma peauâŚâ
With a stab of impatience, he switched from the Eros feed to the team
channel.
âGot to move,â a womanâ s voice said. âToo much splashback here. We
have to get to the other side of the docks.â
âThese go on for almost two kilometers,â Miller said.
âIs,â she agreed . âWe can unmo or and move the ship under power or
we can tow it. W eâve got enough lead line.â
âWhich oneâ s fastest? W e donâ t have a lot of spare time here.â
âTowing.â
âTow it, then,â Miller said.
Slowly , the ship rose, twenty small, crawling transport drones clinging
to leads like they were hauling a great metallic zeppelin. The ship was
going to stay with him, here on the station, strapped to the rock like a
sacrifice to the gods. Miller walked with the crew as they crossed the wide,
closed bay doors. The only sounds were the tapping of his soles as the
electromagnets jolted onto the surface and then a tick when they let go
again. The only smells were of his own body and the fresh plastic of the air
recycler . The metal under his feet shone like someone had cleaned it. Any
dust or pebbles had been hurled away long ago.
They worked fast to place the ship, arm the bombs, and fit the security
codes, everyone tacitly aware of the great missile that had been the Nauvoo
speeding toward them.
If another ship came down and tried to disarm the trap, the ship would
send synchroniz ing signals to all the other OPA bomb ships studding the
moonâ s surface. Three seconds later, the surface of Eros would be scrubbed
clean. The spare air and supplies were loaded off the ship, bundled together
and ready for reclamation. No reason to waste the resources.
Nothing horrific crawled out of an airlock and tried to attack the crew ,
which made Miller âs presence during the mission entirely superfluous. Or
maybe not. Maybe it was just a ride.
When everything was done that could be, Miller sent the all clear ,
relayed through the now-dead shipâs system. The return transport appeared
slowly , a dot of light that grew gradually brighter and then spread, the null-
g boarding web strung out like scaffolding. At the new shipâ s word, Miller âs
Miller's Final Stand
- The crew successfully rigs the ship and the surface of Eros with OPA bombs to ensure the station is scrubbed clean if tampered with.
- Miller decides to stay behind on the asteroid rather than return to Tycho Station, viewing himself as a man who has already died once.
- Diogo and the OPA team accept Miller's decision with a solemn 'Buona morte' before departing on the transport ship.
- Left alone in the silence of space, Miller experiences a vision of Julie Mao as he watches the stars and prepares for the end.
The ship was going to stay with him, here on the station, strapped to the rock like a sacrifice to the gods.
to leads like they were hauling a great metallic zeppelin. The ship was
going to stay with him, here on the station, strapped to the rock like a
sacrifice to the gods. Miller walked with the crew as they crossed the wide,
closed bay doors. The only sounds were the tapping of his soles as the
electromagnets jolted onto the surface and then a tick when they let go
again. The only smells were of his own body and the fresh plastic of the air
recycler . The metal under his feet shone like someone had cleaned it. Any
dust or pebbles had been hurled away long ago.
They worked fast to place the ship, arm the bombs, and fit the security
codes, everyone tacitly aware of the great missile that had been the Nauvoo
speeding toward them.
If another ship came down and tried to disarm the trap, the ship would
send synchroniz ing signals to all the other OPA bomb ships studding the
moonâ s surface. Three seconds later, the surface of Eros would be scrubbed
clean. The spare air and supplies were loaded off the ship, bundled together
and ready for reclamation. No reason to waste the resources.
Nothing horrific crawled out of an airlock and tried to attack the crew ,
which made Miller âs presence during the mission entirely superfluous. Or
maybe not. Maybe it was just a ride.
When everything was done that could be, Miller sent the all clear ,
relayed through the now-dead shipâs system. The return transport appeared
slowly , a dot of light that grew gradually brighter and then spread, the null-
g boarding web strung out like scaffolding. At the new shipâ s word, Miller âs
team turned off their boots and fired simple maneuvering thrusters either
from their suits or, if the suits were too old, from shared ablative evacuation
shells. Miller watched them drop away .
âCall va and roll, Pampaw ,â Diogo said from someplace. Miller wasnâ t
sure which of them he was at this distance. âThis tube donâ t sit.â
âIâm not coming,â Miller said.
âSa que?â
âI decided. Iâm staying here.â
There was a moment of silence. Miller had been waiting for this. He
had the security codes. If he needed to crawl back into the shell of their old
ship and lock the door behind him, he could. But he didnâ t want to. Heâd
prepared his arguments: He would only be going back to Tycho as a
political pawn for Fred Johnson âs negotiations; he was tired and old in a
way that years didnâ t describe; heâd already died on Eros once, and he
wanted to be here to finish it. Heâd earned that much. Diogo and the others
owed it to him.
He waited for the boy to react, to try to talk him out of it.
âAll correct, then,â Diogo said. âBuona morte.â
âBuona morte,â Miller said, and shut off his radio. The universe was
silent. The stars below him shifted slowly but perceptibly as the station he
hung from spun. One of those lights was the Rocinante. Two others were
the ships Holden had been sent out to stall. Miller couldnâ t pick them out.
Julie floated beside him, her dark hair floating in the vacuum , the stars
shining through her . She looked peaceful.
If you had it to do again, she said. If you could do it all over from the
beginning?
âI wouldnâ t,â he said.
He watc hed the OPA transport ship start up its engines, glowing gold
and white, and pull away until it was a star again. A small one. And then
lost. Miller turned and consid ered the dark, empty moonscape and the
The Hammer of God
- Miller waits on the surface of Eros as the massive generation ship Nauvoo approaches to collide with the station.
- The detective experiences hallucinations of Julie Mao, finding a sense of peace and closure in their shared final moments.
- While the OPA and inner planets descend into political chaos, Miller remains isolated with five fusion devices and the evolving protomolecule.
- Miller chooses to keep his final view of the impact private, refusing to record the event for the rest of humanity.
- The protomolecule's transmissions shift from wordless murmurs to synthetic, spiraling sounds as the collision becomes imminent.
Above him, everything that had once been human in Eros Station changed and re-formed, pouring from one shape to another like Hieronymous Bosch made real.
silent. The stars below him shifted slowly but perceptibly as the station he
hung from spun. One of those lights was the Rocinante. Two others were
the ships Holden had been sent out to stall. Miller couldnâ t pick them out.
Julie floated beside him, her dark hair floating in the vacuum , the stars
shining through her . She looked peaceful.
If you had it to do again, she said. If you could do it all over from the
beginning?
âI wouldnâ t,â he said.
He watc hed the OPA transport ship start up its engines, glowing gold
and white, and pull away until it was a star again. A small one. And then
lost. Miller turned and consid ered the dark, empty moonscape and the
permanent night.
He just needed to be with her for another few hours, and they would
both be safe. They would all be safe. It was enough. Miller found himself
smiling and weeping, the tears tracking up from his eyes and into his hair .
Itâs going to be fine, Julie said.
âI know ,â Miller said.
He stood silentl y for almost an hour, then turned and made his slow,
precarious way back to the sacrificed ship, down the airlock, and into the
dim belly . There was enough residual atmosphere that he didnâ t need to
sleep in his suit. He stripped naked, chose an acceleration couch, and curled
up on the hard blue gel. Not twenty meters away , five fusion devices
powerful enough to outshine the sun waited for a signal. Above him,
everything that had once been human in Eros Station chang ed and re-
formed, pouring from one shape to another like Hieronymous Bosch made
real. And still almost a day away , the Nauvoo, the hammer of God, hurtled
toward him.
Miller set his suit to play some old pop tunes heâd enjoyed when he
was young and let himself be sung to sleep. When he dreamed, he dreamed
heâd found a tunnel at the back of his old hole on Ceres that meant he
would at last, at last, be free.
His last breakfast was a hard kibble bar and a handful of chocolate
scrounged from a forgotten survival pack. He ate it with tepid recycled
water that tasted of iron and rot. The signals from Eros were almost
drowned by the oscillating frequencies blasting out from the station above
him, but Miller made out enough to know where things stood.
Holden had won, much as Miller had expected him to. The OPA was
responding to a thousand angry accusations from Earth and Mars and, in the
true and permanent style, faction s within the OPA itself. It was too late. The
Nauvoo was due in hours now . The end was coming.
Miller put on his suit for the last time, turned out the lights, and
crawled back up the airlock. For a long moment, the exterior release didnâ t
respond, the safety lights glow ing red, and he had a stab of fear that he
would spend his last moments there, trapped in a tube like a torpedo ready
to fire. But he cycled the lockâ s power , and it opened.
The Eros feed was wordless now, with only a soft murmuring like
water over stone . Miller walked out across the wide mouth of the docking
bays. The sky above him turned, and the Nauvoo rose from the horizon like
sun. His splayed hand held at full armâs length wasnâ t big enough to cover
the glow of its engines. He hung by his boots, watching the ship approach.
The phantom Julie watched with him.
If heâd done the math right, the Nauvoo âs impact site would be at the
center of Erosâ major axis. Miller would be able to see it when it happened,
and the giddy excitement in his chest reminded him of being young. It
would be a show . Oh, it would be something to see. He considered
recording it. His suit would be able to make a simple visual file and stream
the data out in real time. But no. This was his moment. His and Julieâ s. The
rest of humanity could guess what it had been like if they cared.
The massive glow of the Nauvoo filled a quarter of the sky now, and
the full circle of it was free of the horizon. The Eros feedâ s soft murmur
shifted to something more clearly synthetic: a rising, spiraling sound that
The Impossible Dodge
- Miller watches from the surface of Eros as the massive generation ship Nauvoo approaches at high speed for a planned impact.
- The Nauvoo burns its engines at a lethal intensity that would pulp human bones, appearing as a massive torch filling the sky.
- At the moment of impact, Eros emits a sentient, telepathic scream of defiance and abruptly shifts its position in space.
- The crew of the Rocinante confirms via sensors that the entire asteroid station moved hundreds of kilometers in a minute to avoid the collision.
- The laws of physics are seemingly defied as Eros maneuvers without crushing the people or structures on its surface.
And without so much as overcoming the grip of Millerâs magnetic boots, Eros Station had dodged.
water over stone . Miller walked out across the wide mouth of the docking
bays. The sky above him turned, and the Nauvoo rose from the horizon like
sun. His splayed hand held at full armâs length wasnâ t big enough to cover
the glow of its engines. He hung by his boots, watching the ship approach.
The phantom Julie watched with him.
If heâd done the math right, the Nauvoo âs impact site would be at the
center of Erosâ major axis. Miller would be able to see it when it happened,
and the giddy excitement in his chest reminded him of being young. It
would be a show . Oh, it would be something to see. He considered
recording it. His suit would be able to make a simple visual file and stream
the data out in real time. But no. This was his moment. His and Julieâ s. The
rest of humanity could guess what it had been like if they cared.
The massive glow of the Nauvoo filled a quarter of the sky now, and
the full circle of it was free of the horizon. The Eros feedâ s soft murmur
shifted to something more clearly synthetic: a rising, spiraling sound that
reminded him for no particular reason of the green sweeping radar screens
of ancient films. There were voices at the back of it, but he couldnâ t make
out the words or even the language.
The great torch of the Nauvoo was a full half of the sky, the stars
around it blotted out by the light of full burn. Miller âs suit chirped a
radiation warning and he shut it of f.
A manned Nauvoo would never have sustained a burn like that; even
in the best couc h, the thrust gravity would have pulped bones. He tried to
guess how fast the ship would be going when it hit.
Fast enough. That was all that mattered. Fast enough.
There, in the center of the fiery bloom, Miller saw a dark spot, no more
than the dot of a pencilâ s tip. The ship itself. He took a deep breath. When
he closed his eyes, the light pressed red through his lids. When he opened
them again, the Nauvoo had length. Shape. It was a needle, an arrow , a
missile. A fist rising from the depths. For the first time in mem ory, Miller
felt awe.
Eros shouted.
âDONâT YOU FUCKING TOUCH ME!â
Slowly , the bloom of engine fire changed from a circle to an oval to a
great feathery plume, the Nauvoo itself showing silver in rough profile.
Miller gaped.
The Nauvoo had missed. It had turned. It was right now, right now,
speeding past Eros and not into it. But he hadnâ t seen any kind of
maneuvering rockets fire. And how would you turn something that big,
moving that quickly , so abruptly that it would veer off between one breath
and the next without also tearing the ship apart? The acceleration g aloneâŚ
Miller looked at the stars as if there was some answer written in them.
And to his surprise, there was. The sweep of the Milky Way, the infinite
scattering of stars were still there. But the angles had changed. The rotation
of Eros had shifted. Its relation to the plane of the ecliptic.
For the Nauvoo to change course at the last minute without falling
apart would have been impossi ble. And so it hadnâ t happened. Eros was
roughly six hundred cubic kilom eters. Before Protogen, it had housed the
second-lar gest active port in the Belt.
And without so much as overcoming the grip of Miller âs magnetic
boots, Eros Station had dodged.
Chapter Fourty-Nine
Holden
âHoly shit,â said Amos in a flat voice.
âJim,â Naomi said to Holdenâ s back, but he waved her off and opened
a channel to Alex in the cockpit.
âAlex, did we just see what my sensors say we saw?â
âYeah, Cap,â the pilot replied. âRadar and scopes are both sayinâ Eros
jumped two hundred klicks spinward in a little less than a minute.â
âHoly shit,â Amos repeated in exactly the same emotionless tone. The
metallic bang of deck hatches opening and closing echoed through the ship,
Eros Defies Physics
- The crew of the Rocinante witnesses the massive asteroid Eros suddenly jump two hundred kilometers spinward in less than a minute.
- Amos and Naomi experience a state of shock, or 'vapor lock,' as they struggle to comprehend the sheer energy required to move such a massive object.
- Technical analysis reveals that the asteroid's temperature rose by two degrees, suggesting the movement generated a massive amount of waste heat.
- Naomi concludes that while the technology is advanced, it still obeys the laws of entropy and physics, providing a small sense of relief to Holden.
Eros jumped two hundred klicks spinward in a little less than a minute.
boots, Eros Station had dodged.
Chapter Fourty-Nine
Holden
âHoly shit,â said Amos in a flat voice.
âJim,â Naomi said to Holdenâ s back, but he waved her off and opened
a channel to Alex in the cockpit.
âAlex, did we just see what my sensors say we saw?â
âYeah, Cap,â the pilot replied. âRadar and scopes are both sayinâ Eros
jumped two hundred klicks spinward in a little less than a minute.â
âHoly shit,â Amos repeated in exactly the same emotionless tone. The
metallic bang of deck hatches opening and closing echoed through the ship,
signaling Amosâ approach up the crew ladder .
Holden shook off the flush of irritation he felt at Amosâ leaving his
post. Heâd deal with that later. He needed to be sure that the Rocinante and
her crew hadnâ t just experienced a group hallucination.
âNaomi, give me comms,â he said.
Naomi turned around in her chair to face him, her face ashen.
âHow can you be so calm?â she asked.
âPanic wonâ t help. We need to know whatâ s going on before we can
plan intelligently . Please transfer the comms to me.â
âHoly shit,â Amos said as he climbed into the ops deck. The deck
hatch shut with a punctuating bang.
âI donât remember ordering you to leave your post, sailor ,â Holden
said.
âPlan intelligen tly,â Naomi said like they were words in a foreign
language that she almost understood. âPlan intelligently .â
Amos threw himself at a chair hard enough that the cushion ing gel
grabbed him and kept him from bouncing of f.
âEros is really fucking big,â Amos said.
âPlan intelligently ,â Naomi repeated, speaking to herself now .
âI mean, really fucking big,â Amos said. âDo you know how much
energy it took to spin that rock up? I mean, it took years to do that shit.â
Holden put his headset on to drown Amos and Naomi out, and called
up Alex again.
âAlex, is Eros still changing velocity?â
âNo, Cap. Just sitting there like a rock.â
âOkay ,â Holden said. âAmos and Naomi are vapor locked. How are
you doing?â
âNot taking my hands off the stick while that bastard is anywhere in
my space, thatâ s for damn sure.â
Thank God for military training, Holden thought.
âGood, keep us at a constant distance of five thousand klicks until I
say otherwise. Let me know if it moves again, even an inch.â
âRoger that, Cap,â said Alex.
Holden took off his headset and turned to face the rest of the crew .
Amos was looking at the ceiling , ticking points off with his fingers, his eyes
unfocused.
ââdonâ t really remember the mass of Eros off the top of my headâŚâ
he was saying to no one in particular .
âAbout seven thousand trillion kilos,â Naomi replied. âGive or take.
And the heat signatureâ s up about two degrees.â
âJesus, â the mechanic said. âI canât do that math in my head. That
much mass coming up two degrees like that?â
âA lot,â Holden said. âSo letâ s move onââ
âAbout ten exajoules,â Naomi said. âThatâ s just of f the top of my head,
but Iâm not of f by an order of magnitude or anything.â
Amos whistled.
âTen exajoules is like, what, a two-gigaton fusion bomb?â
âItâs about a hundred kilos converted directly to energy,â Naomi said.
Her voice began to steady . âWhich, of course, we couldnâ t do. But at least
whatever they did wasnâ t magic.â
Holdenâ s mind grabbed on to her words with an almost physical
sensation. Naom i was, in fact, about the smartest person he knew . She had
just spoken directly to the half-articulated fear heâd been harboring since
Eros had jumped sideways: that this was magic, that the protomolecule
didnâ t have to obey the laws of physics. Because if that was true, humans
didnâ t stand a chance.
âExplain,â he said.
âWell,â she replied, tapping on her keypad. âHeating Eros up didnâ t
move it. So I assume that means it was waste heat from whatever it was
they actually did.â
âAnd that means?â
âThat entropy still exists. That they canât convert mass to energy with
perfect efficienc y. That their machines or processes or whatever they use to
Physics vs Magic
- Naomi determines that the protomolecule is bound by the laws of thermodynamics because its movement generates waste heat.
- Despite the massive energy efficiency of the asteroid Eros, the presence of entropy suggests it is advanced technology rather than supernatural magic.
- Eros suddenly disappears from radar while continuing its sunward trajectory, indicating it possesses sophisticated stealth capabilities.
- Holden attempts to maintain composure and coordinates with a UNN corvette to verify the alarming sensor data regarding the asteroid's maneuvers.
- The crew of the Rocinante struggles with the psychological weight of chasing a mountain-sized object that can maneuver wildly and vanish at will.
Their efficiency is still off the charts, but it isnât perfect. Which means the laws of physics still hold. Which means it isnât magic.
Eros had jumped sideways: that this was magic, that the protomolecule
didnâ t have to obey the laws of physics. Because if that was true, humans
didnâ t stand a chance.
âExplain,â he said.
âWell,â she replied, tapping on her keypad. âHeating Eros up didnâ t
move it. So I assume that means it was waste heat from whatever it was
they actually did.â
âAnd that means?â
âThat entropy still exists. That they canât convert mass to energy with
perfect efficienc y. That their machines or processes or whatever they use to
move seven thousand trillion tons of rock wastes some energy. About a
two-gigaton bombâ s worth of it.â
âAh.â
âYou couldnâ t move Eros two hundred kilometers with a two-gigaton
bomb,â Amos said with a snort.
âNo, you couldnâ t,â Naomi replied. âThis is just the leftovers. Heat by-
product. Their efficiency is still off the charts, but it isnât perfect. Which
means the laws of physics still hold. Which means it isnâ t magic.â
âMight as well be,â Amos said.
Naomi looked at Holden.
âSo, weââ he started when Alex interrupted over the shipwide comm.
âCap, Eros is movinâ again.â
âFollow it, get me a course and speed as soon as you can,â Holden
said, turning back to his console . âAmos, get back down to engineering. If
you leave it again without a direct order , Iâll have the XO beat you to death
with a pipe wrench.â
The only reply was the hiss of the deck hatch opening and the bang as
it closed behind the descending mechanic.
âAlex,â Holden said, staring at the data stream the Rocinante was
feeding him about Eros. âT ell me something.â
âSunward is all we know for sure,â Alex replied, his voice still calm
and professional. When Holden had been in the military , heâd been officer
track right from the start. Heâd never been to military pilot school, but he
knew that years of training had compartmentalized Alexâ s brain into two
halves: piloting problems and, secondarily , everything else. Matching Eros
and getting a course for it was the former . Extra-solar space aliens trying to
destroy humanit y wasnâ t a piloting issue and could be safely ignored until
he left the cockp it. He might have a nervous breakdown afterward, but until
then, Alex would keep doing his job.
âDrop back to fifty thousand klicks and maintain a constant distance,â
Holden told him.
âHuh,â said Alex. âMaintaininâ a constant distance might be tough,
Cap. Eros just disappeared of f the radar .â
Holden felt his throat go tight.
âSay again?â
âEros just disappeared off the radar ,â Alex was saying, but Holden was
already punching up the sensor suite to check for himself. His telescopes
showed the rock still moving on its new course toward the sun. Thermal
imaging showed it as slightly warmer than space. The weird feed of voices
and madness that had been leaking out of the station was still detectable, if
faint. But radar said there was nothing there.
Magic, a small voice at the back of his mind said again.
No, not magic. Humans had stealth ships too. It was just a matter of
absorbing the radar âs energy rather than reflecting it. But sudde nly, keeping
the asteroid in visual range became all the more important. Eros had shown
that it could move fast and maneuver wildly , and it was now invisible to
radar . It was entirely possible that a mountain-sized rock could disappear
completely .
Gravity began to pile up as the Roci chased Eros toward the sun.
âNaomi?â
She looked up at him. The fear was still in her eyes, but she was
holding it together . For now .
âJim?â
âThe comm? Could youâŚ?â
The chagrin on her face was the most reassuring thing heâd seen in
hours. She shifted control to his station, and he opened a connection
request.
âUNN corvette, this is the Rocinante, please respond.â
âGo ahead, Rocinante, â the other ship said after half a minute of static.
âCalling to confirm our sensor data,â Holden said, then transmitted the
data regarding Erosâ movement. âY ou guys seeing the same thing?â
Chasing the Invisible Rock
- Holden successfully negotiates a fragile truce with the UNN corvette Ravi to cooperate in tracking the accelerating asteroid Eros.
- The asteroid Eros is performing impossible maneuvers, reaching four g's of acceleration and becoming invisible to radar.
- Holden uses his personal history and family ties to Earth to convince Captain McBride that their interests in stopping Eros are aligned.
- Desperate and feeling the weight of potential human extinction, Holden contacts Fred Johnson at Tycho Station to report the failure of the Nauvoo mission.
- The crew of the Rocinante faces extreme physical strain as they increase their own acceleration to keep pace with the runaway asteroid.
I think Iâm watching the end of the human race, Holden thought.
She looked up at him. The fear was still in her eyes, but she was
holding it together . For now .
âJim?â
âThe comm? Could youâŚ?â
The chagrin on her face was the most reassuring thing heâd seen in
hours. She shifted control to his station, and he opened a connection
request.
âUNN corvette, this is the Rocinante, please respond.â
âGo ahead, Rocinante, â the other ship said after half a minute of static.
âCalling to confirm our sensor data,â Holden said, then transmitted the
data regarding Erosâ movement. âY ou guys seeing the same thing?â
Another delay , this one longer .
âRoger that, Rocinante. â
âI know we were just about to shoot each other and all, but I think
weâre a little past that now,â Holden said. âAnyway , weâre chasing the rock.
If we lose sight of it, we migh t never find it again. Want to come with?
Might be nice to have some backup if it decides to shoot at us or
something.â
Another delay , this one almost two minutes long; then a different voice
came on the line. Older , female, and totally lacking the arrogance and anger
of the young male voice heâd been dealing with so far .
âRocinante, this is Captain McBride of the UNN Escort Vessel Ravi. â
Ah, thought Holden. Iâve been talking to the first officer all along. The
captain finally took the horn. That might be a good sign. âIâve sent word to
fleet command, but itâs a twenty -three minute lag right now, and that rockâ s
putting on speed. Y ou have a plan?â
âNot really , Ravi. Just follow and gather intel until we find an
opportunity to do something that makes a dif ference. But if you came along,
maybe none of your people will shoot at us accidentally while we figure it
out.â
There was a long pause. Holden knew that the captain of the Ravi was
weighing the chance that he was telling the truth against the threat heâd
made against their science vessel. What if he was in on whatever was
happening? Heâd be wondering the same thing in their position.
âLook,â he said. âIâve told you my name. James Holden. I served as a
lieutenant in the UNN. My records should be on file. Itâll show a
dishonorable dischar ge, but theyâll also show that my family lives in
Montana. I donâ t want that rock to hit Earth any more than you do.â
The silence on the other end continued for another few minutes.
âCaptain,â she said, âI believe my superiors would want me to keep an
eye on you. Weâll be coming along for the ride while the brains figure this
out.â
Holden let out a long, noisy exhale.
âThanks for that, McBride. Keep trying to get your people on the line.
Iâm going to make a few calls myself. Two corvettes are not going to fix
this problem.â
âRoger that,â the Ravi replied, then killed the connection.
âIâve opened a connection with T ycho,â Naomi said.
Holden leaned back in his chair, the mounting gravity of their
acceleration pressing against him. A watery lump was gatherin g low in his
gut, the loose knot telling him that he had no idea what he was doing, that
all the best plans had failed, and that the end was near. The brief hope heâd
felt was already starting to slip away .
How can you be so calm?
I think Iâm watc hing the end of the human race, Holden thought. Iâm
calling Fred so that it isnât my fault when no one has an idea how to stop it.
Of course Iâm not calm.
Iâm just spr eading the guilt.
âHow fast?â Fred Johnson asked incredulously .
âFour gâs now and climbing,â Holden replied, his voice thick as his
throat compressed. âOh, and itâ s invisible to radar now .â
âFour g. Do you know how heavy Eros is?â
âThereâ s, uh, been some discussion,â Holden said, only the
acceleration keeping his impatience from showing in his voice. âThe
question is, now what? The Nauvoo missed. Our plans are shot to shit.â
There was another perceptible increase in pressure as Alex sped the
The End of Humanity
- Holden and his crew witness Eros accelerating at four g's and becoming invisible to radar, defying known physics.
- The asteroid is confirmed to be on a collision course with Earth, threatening thirty billion lives with the protomolecule.
- Holden contacts Fred Johnson to spread the burden of responsibility and urge a unified response between the Belt and the Inner Planets.
- A desperate plan is formed to use Miller's demolition nukes to deflect the asteroid's course as a last-ditch effort.
Background radiation spoke to Holden in mystic whispers full of dire portents while he waited.
acceleration pressing against him. A watery lump was gatherin g low in his
gut, the loose knot telling him that he had no idea what he was doing, that
all the best plans had failed, and that the end was near. The brief hope heâd
felt was already starting to slip away .
How can you be so calm?
I think Iâm watc hing the end of the human race, Holden thought. Iâm
calling Fred so that it isnât my fault when no one has an idea how to stop it.
Of course Iâm not calm.
Iâm just spr eading the guilt.
âHow fast?â Fred Johnson asked incredulously .
âFour gâs now and climbing,â Holden replied, his voice thick as his
throat compressed. âOh, and itâ s invisible to radar now .â
âFour g. Do you know how heavy Eros is?â
âThereâ s, uh, been some discussion,â Holden said, only the
acceleration keeping his impatience from showing in his voice. âThe
question is, now what? The Nauvoo missed. Our plans are shot to shit.â
There was another perceptible increase in pressure as Alex sped the
ship up to keep up with Eros. A little while longer and speech wouldnâ t be
possible.
âItâs definitely headed for Earth?â Fred asked.
âAlex and Naom i are ninety percent or so. Hard to be totally accurate
when we can only use visual data. But I trust them. Iâd go to where there
are thirty billion new hosts too.â
Thirty billion new hosts. Eight of whom were his parents. He imagined
Father Tom as a bundle of tubes oozing brown goo. Mother Elise as a rib
cage dragging itself across the floor with one skeletal arm. And with that
much biomass, what could it do then? Move Earth? T urn out the sun?
âHave to warn them,â Holden said, trying not to strangle on his own
tongue as he spoke.
âYou donâ t think they know?â
âThey see a threat. They may not see the end of all native life in the
solar system,â Holden said. âYou wanted a reason to sit at the table? How
about this one: Come together or die.â
Fred was quiet for a moment. Background radiation spoke to Holden
in mystic whispers full of dire portents while he waited. Newcomer , it said.
Hang around for fourteen billion years or so. See what Iâve seen. Then all
this nonsense wonâ t seem so important.
âIâll see what I can do,â Fred said, interrupting the universeâ s lecture
on transience. âIn the meantime, what are you going to do?â
Get outrun by a r ock and then watch the cradle of humanity die.
âIâm open to suggestions,â Holden said.
âMaybe you could detonate some of the surface nukes the demo team
put down. Deflect Erosâ course. Buy us time.â
âTheyâre on proximity fuses. Canât set them off,â Holden said, the last
word turning into a yelp as his chair stabbed him in a dozen different places
and injected him full of fire. Alex had hit them with the juice, which meant
Eros was still speeding up, and he was worried theyâd all black out. How
fast was it going to go? Even on the juice they couldnâ t sustain prolonged
acceleration past seven or eight g without serious risk. If Eros kept this rate
of increase up, it would outrun them.
âYou can remote detonate,â Fred said. âMiller will have the codes.
Have the demo team calculate which ones to set of f for maximum ef fect.â
âRoger that,â Holden said. âIâll give Miller a call.â
âIâll work on the inners,â Fred said, using the Belter slang without a
hint of self-consciousness. âSee what I can do.â
Holden broke the connection, then linked up to Miller âs ship.
âYo,â said whoever was manning the radio there.
âThis is Holden, on the Rocinante. Give me Miller .â
âUhâŚâ said the voice. âOkay .â
There was a click, then static, then Miller saying hello with a faint
echo. Still wearing his helmet, then.
âMiller , this is Holden. W e need to talk about what just happened.â
âEros moved.â
Miller sounded strange, his voice distant, as though he was only barely
paying attention to the conversation. Holden felt a flush of irritation but
Left Behind on Eros
- Holden contacts Miller to coordinate a plan to deflect Eros's course using demolition charges after the asteroid unexpectedly begins to move.
- Miller reveals the shocking news that he is not on his ship with the technicians but is still physically on the surface of Eros.
- Despite the asteroid's massive acceleration, Miller notes a lack of inertial force, suggesting the laws of physics are being manipulated.
- Miller refuses a rescue attempt from the Rocinante, acknowledging his suicidal mission and the extreme danger the station poses.
- The asteroid begins to emit strange, whale-like radio signals, indicating that the protomolecule has transformed the rock into a sentient vessel.
Iâm still on Eros.
Holden broke the connection, then linked up to Miller âs ship.
âYo,â said whoever was manning the radio there.
âThis is Holden, on the Rocinante. Give me Miller .â
âUhâŚâ said the voice. âOkay .â
There was a click, then static, then Miller saying hello with a faint
echo. Still wearing his helmet, then.
âMiller , this is Holden. W e need to talk about what just happened.â
âEros moved.â
Miller sounded strange, his voice distant, as though he was only barely
paying attention to the conversation. Holden felt a flush of irritation but
tamped it back down. He needed Miller right now, whether he wanted to or
not.
âLook,â he said. âIâve talked to Fred and he wants us to coordinate
with your demo guys. Youâve got remote codes. If we set off all of them on
one side, we can deflect its course. Get your techs on the line, and weâll
work it out.â
âHuh, yeah, that sounds like a good idea. Iâll send the codes along,â
said Miller, his voice no longer distant, but holding back a laugh. Like a
man about to tell the punch line of a really good joke. âBut I canât really
help you with the techs.â
âShit, Miller , you pissed those people of f, too?â
Miller did laugh now, a free, soft sound that someone who wasnâ t
piling on g could af ford. If there was a punch line, Holden had missed it.
âYeah,â Miller said. âProbably . But thatâs not why I canât get them for
you. Iâm not on the ship with them.â
âWhat?â
âIâm still on Eros.â
Chapter Fifty
Miller
âWhat do you mean youâre on Eros?â Holden said.
âPretty much that,â Miller said, covering his growing sense of shame
with a casual tone of voice. âHanging upside down outside the tertiary
docks, where we moored one of the ships. Feel like a freaking bat.â
âButââ
âFunny thing, too. I didnâ t feel it when the thing moved. Youâd think
accelerating like that, it would have thrown me off or squashed me flat, one
or the other . But there was nothing.â
âOkay , hold on. W eâre coming to get you.â
âHolden,â Miller said. âJust stop it, all right?â
The silence didnât last more than a dozen seconds, but it carried a
wealth of meaning. Itâs not safe to bring the Rocinante to Eros, and I came
here to die, and Donâ t make this har der than it is.
âYeah, I justâŚâ Holden said. And then: âOkay . Let me⌠let me
coordinate with the technicians. Iâll⌠Jesus. Iâll let you know what they
say.â
âOne thing, though,â Miller said. âYouâre talking about deflecting this
sonofabitch? Just keep in mind itâ s not a rock anymore. Itâ s a ship.â
âRight,â Holden said. And a moment later: âOkay .â
The connection dropped with a tick. Miller checked his oxygen supply .
Three hours in-suit, but he could head back to his little ship and refill it well
before that. So Eros was moving , was it? He still didnâ t feel it, but watching
the curved surface of the asteroid, he could see micro-asteroids, all coming
from the same direction, bouncing off. If the station kept accelerating,
theyâd start coming more often, more powerfully . Heâd need to stay in the
ship.
He turned his hand terminal back to the Eros feed. The station beneath
him was chirping and muttering, long slow vowel sounds radiati ng out from
it like recorded whale song. After the angry words and static, the voice of
Eros sounded peaceful. He wondered what kind of music Diogoâs friends
Awe and Absolution
- Miller experiences a profound sense of awe and euphoria as he realizes he is riding on a sentient, self-propelled alien entity.
- While preparing fusion bombs for a suicide mission, Miller reflects on his lifelong medical dependency caused by previous radiation exposure on Eros.
- The protagonist grapples with his lack of religious faith while simultaneously hoping his life's suffering has served a cosmic purpose.
- Miller hallucinates the presence of Julie Mao, finding comfort in her imagined company as he prepares for his final act.
There was alien life in the universe, and he was riding on it like a tick on a dog.
the curved surface of the asteroid, he could see micro-asteroids, all coming
from the same direction, bouncing off. If the station kept accelerating,
theyâd start coming more often, more powerfully . Heâd need to stay in the
ship.
He turned his hand terminal back to the Eros feed. The station beneath
him was chirping and muttering, long slow vowel sounds radiati ng out from
it like recorded whale song. After the angry words and static, the voice of
Eros sounded peaceful. He wondered what kind of music Diogoâs friends
would be making out of this. Slow dancing didnâ t seem like their style. An
annoying itch settled in the small of his back, and he shifted in his suit,
trying to rub it away . Almost without his noticing it, he grinned. And then
laughed. A wave of euphoria passed into him.
There was alien life in the universe, and he was riding on it like a tick
on a dog. Eros Station had moved of its own free will and by mechanisms
he couldnâ t begin to imagine. He didnâ t know how many years it had been
since heâd been overwhelmed by awe. Heâd forgotten the feelin g. He raised
his arms to his sides, reaching out as if he could embrace the endless dark
vacuum below him.
Then, with a sigh, he turned back toward the ship.
Back in the protective shell, he took off the vac suit and hooked the air
supply to the recyclers to charge up. With only one person to care for, even
low-level life support would have it ready to go within the hour. The ship
batteries were still almost fully charged. His hand terminal chimed twice,
reminding him that it was once again time for the anti-cancer meds. The
ones heâd earned the last time heâd been on Eros. The ones heâd be on for
the rest of his life. Good joke.
The fusion bombs were in the shipâ s cargo hold: gray square boxes
about half again as long as they were tall, like bricks in a mortar of pink
adhesive foam. It took Miller twenty minutes of searching through storage
lockers to find a can of solven t that still had charge in it. The thin spray
from it smelled like ozone and oil, and the stiff pink foam melted under it.
Miller squatted beside the bombs and ate a ration bar that tasted
convincingly like apples. Julie sat beside him, her head resting weightlessly
on his shoulder .
There had been a few times that Miller had flirted with faith. Most had
been when he was young and trying out everything. Then when he was
older , wiser , more worn, and in the crushing pain of the divorce. He
understood the longing for a greater being, a huge and compassionate
intelligence that could see everything from a perspective that dissolved the
pettiness and evil and made everything all right. He still felt that longing.
He just couldnâ t convince himself it was true.
And still, maybe there was something like a plan. Maybe the universe
had put him in the right place at the right time to do the thing that no one
else would do. Maybe all the pain and suffering heâd been through, all the
disappointments and soul-crushing years wallowing through the worst that
humanity had to offer up, had been meant to bring him here, to this
moment, when he was ready to die if it bought humanity a little time.
It would be pr etty to think so, Julie said in his mind.
âIt would,â he agreed with a sigh. At the sound of his voice, the vision
of her vanished, just another daydream.
The bombs were heavier than heâd remembered. Under a full g, he
A Rat Not a Billiard Ball
- Miller reflects on his life of suffering and disappointment, viewing his current suicide mission as a potential moment of redemption.
- Despite the physical strain of low gravity and heavy equipment, Miller successfully maneuvers a nuclear bomb onto the surface of Eros.
- The asteroid Eros begins to accelerate and exhibit unsettling movements, suggesting it is no longer behaving like a simple celestial body.
- In a final conversation with Naomi, Miller explains his plan to infiltrate the station and destroy its control center to stall its progress.
- Miller characterizes the threat of Eros as a living 'rat' rather than a predictable 'billiard ball,' requiring a more tactical approach than traditional naval warfare.
Navies are still going to be thinking of this thing like a billiard ball when itâs really a rat.
had put him in the right place at the right time to do the thing that no one
else would do. Maybe all the pain and suffering heâd been through, all the
disappointments and soul-crushing years wallowing through the worst that
humanity had to offer up, had been meant to bring him here, to this
moment, when he was ready to die if it bought humanity a little time.
It would be pr etty to think so, Julie said in his mind.
âIt would,â he agreed with a sigh. At the sound of his voice, the vision
of her vanished, just another daydream.
The bombs were heavier than heâd remembered. Under a full g, he
wouldnâ t have been able to move them. At only one-third, it was a struggle,
but possible. An agonizing centimeter at a time, he dragged one of them
onto a handcart and hauled it to the airlock. Eros, above him, sang to itself.
He had to rest before he tackled the hard work. The airlock was thin
enough that only the bomb or he could fit through at a time. He climbed on
top of it to get out the outer airlock door, then had to lift the bomb out with
straps he rigged from cargo netting. And once out, it had to be tethered to
the ship with magnetic clamps to keep Erosâ spin from slinging it out into
the void. After heâd pulled it out and strapped it to the cart, he stopped to
rest for half an hour .
There were more impacts now, a rough sign that Eros was indeed
accelerating. Each one a rifle shot, capable of bouncing clean through him
or the ship behind him if bad luck sent it in the right direction. But the odds
were low of one of the occasional rocks lining up a killing shot with his tiny
antlike figure crawling across the surface. Once Eros cleared the Belt,
theyâd stop, anyway . Was Eros leaving the Belt? He realized he had no idea
where Eros was going. Heâd assumed it was Earth. Holden would know by
now, probably .
His shou lders ached a little from his efforts, but not badly . He worried
that heâd overlo aded the cart. Its wheels were stronger than his mag boots,
but they could still be overcome. The asteroid above him lurched once, a
new and unsettl ing motion that didnâ t repeat. His hand termina l cut off the
Eros feed, alerting him that he had an incoming connection. He looked at it,
shrugged, and let the call come through.
âNaomi,â he said before she could speak. âHowâve you been doing?â
âHey ,â she said.
The silence between them stretched.
âYou talked to Holden, then?â
âI did,â she said. âHeâ s still talking about ways to get you off that
thing.â
âHeâ s a good guy ,â Miller said. âT alk him out of it for me, okay?â
The silence hung long enough that Miller started to get uncomfortable.
âWhat are you doing there?â she asked. As if there were an answer for
that. As if all his life could be summarized in answer to one simple
question. He danced around what she meant and replied only to what sheâd
said.
âWell, Iâve got a nuclear bomb strapped to a cargo wagon. Iâm hauling
it over to the access hatch and taking it into station.â
âMillerââ
âThe thing is, we were treating this like a rock. Now everyone knows
thatâs a little simplistic, but itâs going to take people time to adjust. Navies
are still going to be thinking of this thing like a billiard ball when itâs really
a rat.â
He was talking too fast. The words spilling out of him in a rush. If he
didnâ t give her room, she would nât talk. He wouldnâ t have to hear what she
had to say . He wouldnâ t have to keep her from talking him down.
âItâs going to have structure. Engines or control centers. Something. If
I truck this thing inside, get it close to whatever coordinates the thing, I can
break it. Turn it back into a billiard ball. Even if itâs just for a little while,
that gives the rest of you a chance.â
âI figured,â she said. âIt makes sense. Itâ s the right thing to do.â
Miller chuckled. A particularly solid impact tocked against the ship
The Dead Man's Switch
- Miller prepares to transport a fusion bomb into the heart of Eros station to disrupt its control centers.
- Naomi provides Miller with a dead man's switch routine that requires him to keep a finger on his terminal at all times.
- The station is accelerating at four g and rising, yet Miller feels no physical sensation of the movement.
- Miller reflects on the simplicity of arming a weapon of mass destruction as he begins his final trek into the dark station.
- Despite the constant threat of debris strikes and mechanical failure, Miller focuses on the task of hauling the bomb through the service hatch.
Somehow he felt that arming fusion bombs to detonate around him should have been more difficult.
He was talking too fast. The words spilling out of him in a rush. If he
didnâ t give her room, she would nât talk. He wouldnâ t have to hear what she
had to say . He wouldnâ t have to keep her from talking him down.
âItâs going to have structure. Engines or control centers. Something. If
I truck this thing inside, get it close to whatever coordinates the thing, I can
break it. Turn it back into a billiard ball. Even if itâs just for a little while,
that gives the rest of you a chance.â
âI figured,â she said. âIt makes sense. Itâ s the right thing to do.â
Miller chuckled. A particularly solid impact tocked against the ship
beneath him, the vibration of it jarring his bones. Gas started venting out of
the new hole. The station was moving faster .
âYeah,â he said. âW ell.â
âI was talking to Amos,â she said. âYou need a dead manâ s switch. So
that if something happens, the bomb still goes off. If you have the access
codesâŚ?â
âI do.â
âGood. Iâve got a routine you can put on your hand terminal. Youâll
need to keep your finger on the select button. If you go away for five
seconds, it sends the go signal. If you want, I can upload it to you.â
âSo I have to wander around the station with my finger mashed on a
button?â
Naomiâ s tone made it an apology . âThey might take you out with a
head shot. Or wrestle you down. The longer the gap, the more chance for
the protomolecule to disable the bomb before it goes off. If you need more,
I can reprogram it.â
Miller looked at the bomb resting on its cart just outside the shipâ s
airlock. Its readouts all glowed green and gold. His sigh briefly fogged the
inside of his helmet.
âYeah, no. Five is good. Upload the routine. Am I going to need to
tweak it, or is there a simple place I can put the arm-and-fire string?â
âThereâ s a setup section,â Naomi said. âIt prompts you.â
The hand terminal chirped, announcing the new file. Miller accepted it,
ran it. It was easy as keying in a door code. Somehow he felt that arming
fusion bombs to detonate around him should have been more dif ficult.
âGot it,â he said. âWeâre good to go. I mean, I still have to move this
bastard, but other than that. How fast am I accelerating on this thing,
anyway?â
âEventually it will be faster than the Roci can go. Four g and ramping
up with no sign of easing of f the throttle.â
âCanâ t feel it at all,â he said.
âIâm sorry about before,â Naomi said.
âIt was a bad situation. W e did what we had to do. Same as always.â
âSame as always,â she echoed.
They didnâ t speak for a few seconds.
âThanks for the trigger ,â Miller said. âT ell Amos I appreciate it.â
He cut the connection before she could answer . Long goodbyes
werenâ t anyoneâ s strong suit. The bomb rested in the handcart, magnetic
clamps in place and a wide woven-steel belt around the whole mess. He
moved slowly across the metall ic surface of the port docks. If the cart lost
its grip on Eros, he wouldnâ t be strong enough to hold it back. Of course, if
one of the increa singly frequent strikes hit him, it would be a lot like getting
shot, so waiting around wasnâ t a good solve either . He put both dangers out
of his mind and did the work. For ten nervous minutes, his suit smelled of
overheating plastic. All the diagnostics showed within the error bars, and by
the time the recyclers cleared it, his air supply still looked good. Another
little mystery he wasnâ t going to solve.
The abyss above him shone with unflickering stars. One of the dots of
light was Earth. He didnâ t know which one.
The service hatch had been tucked in a natural outcropping of stone,
the raw-ferrous cart track like a ribbon of silver in the darkness. Grunting,
Miller hauled the cart and the bomb and his own exhausted body up around
the curve, and spin gravity once again pressed down on his feet instead of
stretching his knees and spine. Light-headed, he keyed in the codes until the
hatch opened.
Eros lay before him, darker than the empty sky .
Miller's Final Descent
- Miller enters the dark interior of Eros with a bomb, accepting that this is a one-way mission to stop the protomolecule.
- In a final transmission to Holden, Miller requests that the Mao-Kwikowski family be held accountable for their ties to Protogen.
- The hallucination of Julie Mao remains at Miller's side, guiding him into the station as he prepares to destroy it.
- Holden reflects on the physical toll of high-gravity maneuvers as the Rocinante continues its desperate pursuit.
- The conversation between Miller and Holden serves as a stoic goodbye, marking the end of their complicated partnership.
His imagined Julie stood in the glare like it was a spotlight, the glow illuminating her and all the structures behind her at the same time, the remnant of a long dream, almost over.
the time the recyclers cleared it, his air supply still looked good. Another
little mystery he wasnâ t going to solve.
The abyss above him shone with unflickering stars. One of the dots of
light was Earth. He didnâ t know which one.
The service hatch had been tucked in a natural outcropping of stone,
the raw-ferrous cart track like a ribbon of silver in the darkness. Grunting,
Miller hauled the cart and the bomb and his own exhausted body up around
the curve, and spin gravity once again pressed down on his feet instead of
stretching his knees and spine. Light-headed, he keyed in the codes until the
hatch opened.
Eros lay before him, darker than the empty sky .
He ran the hand terminal connection through the suit, calling Holden
for what he expected was the last time.
âMiller ,â Holden said almost immediately .
âIâm heading in now ,â he said.
âWait. Look, thereâ s a way we might be able to get an automate d cart.
If the Rociââ
âYeah, but you know how it is. Iâm already here. And we donât know
how fast this sonofabitch can go. Weâve got a problem we need to fix. This
is how we do it.â
Holdenâ s hope had been weak, anyway . Pro forma. A gesture and,
Miller thought, maybe even heartfelt. Trying to save everyone, right to the
last.
âI understand,â Holden finally said.
âOkay . So once Iâve broken whatever the hell I find in thereâŚ?â
âWeâre working on ways to annihilate the station.â
âGood. Iâd hate to go through the trouble for nothing.â
âIs there⌠Is there anything you want me to do? After?â
âNah,â Miller said, and then Julie was at his side, her hair floating
around her like they were unde rwater . She glowed in more starlight than
was actually there. âWait. Yes. A couple things. Julieâ s parent s. They run
Mao-Kwikowski Mercantile. They knew the war was going start before it
did. Theyâve got to have links to Protogen. Make sure they donât get away
with it. And if you see them, tell them Iâm sorry I didnâ t find her in time.â
âRight,â Holden said.
Miller squatted in the darkness. Was there anything else? Shouldnâ t
there be more? A message to Havelock, maybe? Or Muss. Or Diogo and his
OPA friends? But then there would have to be something to say .
âOkay ,â Miller said. âThatâ s it, then. It was good working with you.â
âIâm sorry it came down this way,â Holden said. It wasnâ t an apology
for what heâd done or said, for what heâd chosen and refused.
âYeah,â Miller said. âBut what can you do, right?â
It was as close to goodbye as either of them could get. Miller shut the
connection, brought up the script Naomi had sent him, and enabled it.
While he was at it, he turned the Eros feed back on.
A soft hushing sound, like fingernails scratching down an endless
sheet of paper . He turned on the cartâs lights, the dark entra nce of Eros
brightening to industrial gray, shadows scattering to the corners. His
imagined Julie stood in the glare like it was a spotlight, the glow
illuminating her and all the structures behind her at the same time, the
remnant of a long dream, almost over .
He took of f the brakes, pushed, and went inside Eros for the last time.
Chapter Fifty-One
Holden
Holden knew that humans could tolerate extremely high g-forces over short
durations. W ith proper safety systems, professional daredevils had sustained
impacts in excess of twenty-five gâs and survived. The human body
deformed naturally , absorbed energy in soft tissues, and diffused impacts
across lar ger areas.
He also knew that the problem with extended exposure to high g was
that the constant pressure on the circulatory system would begin exposing
weaknesses. Have a weak spot in an artery that could turn into an aneurysm
in forty years? A few hours at seven g might just pop it open now.
Capillaries in the eyes started to leak. The eye itself deformed, sometimes
causing permane nt damage. And then there were the hollow spaces, like the
lungs and digestive tract. Y ou piled on enough gravity , and they collapsed.
The Crushing Weight of Pursuit
- The crew of the Rocinante endures extreme physiological stress as they accelerate to six g's to keep pace with the runaway asteroid Eros.
- Holden reflects on the biological dangers of high-gravity maneuvers, including arterial failure, eye deformation, and organ collapse.
- Fred Johnson reveals that Earth is launching its entire ground-based nuclear arsenal to vaporize Eros before it can impact the planet.
- Because Eros no longer reflects radar and can dodge incoming objects, the Rocinante must stay in range to guide the missiles via laser targeting.
- Despite the physical agony and the uncertainty of the plan, Holden places his hope in Miller's low-tech infiltration of the asteroid.
Have a weak spot in an artery that could turn into an aneurysm in forty years? A few hours at seven g might just pop it open now.
across lar ger areas.
He also knew that the problem with extended exposure to high g was
that the constant pressure on the circulatory system would begin exposing
weaknesses. Have a weak spot in an artery that could turn into an aneurysm
in forty years? A few hours at seven g might just pop it open now.
Capillaries in the eyes started to leak. The eye itself deformed, sometimes
causing permane nt damage. And then there were the hollow spaces, like the
lungs and digestive tract. Y ou piled on enough gravity , and they collapsed.
And while combat ships might maneuver at very high g for short
durations, every moment spent under thrust multiplied the danger .
Eros didnâ t need to shoot anything at them. It could just keep speeding
up until their bodies exploded under the pressure. His console was showing
five g, but even as he watched, it shifted to six. They couldnâ t keep this up.
Eros was going to get away . There was nothing he could do about it.
But he still didnâ t order Alex to stop accelerating.
As if Naomi were reading his mind, WE CANâT KEEP THIS UP POPPED UP
on his console, her user ID in front of the text.
FREDâS WORKING ON IT. THEY MIGHT NEED US TO BE WITHIN RANGE OF EROS
WHEN THEY COME UP WITH A PLAN , he replied. Even moving his fingers the
millimeters necessary to use the controls built into his chair for exactly this
reason was painfully dif ficult.
WITHIN RANGE FOR WHA T? NAOMI TYPED .
Holden didnâ t answer . He had no idea. His blood was burning with
drugs to keep him awake and alert even while his body was being crushed.
The drugs had the contradictory effect of making his brain run at double
speed while not allowing him to actually think. But Fred would come up
with something. Lots of smart people were thinking about it.
And Miller .
Miller was lugging a fusion bomb through Eros right now. When your
enemy had the tech advantage, you came at him as low-tech as you could
get. Maybe one sad detective pulling a nuclear weapon on a wagon would
slip through their defenses. Naomi had said they werenâ t magic. Maybe
Miller could make it and give them the opening they needed.
Either way , Holden had to be there, even if it was just to see.
FRED , Naomi typed to him.
Holden opened the connection. Fred looked to him like a man
suppressing a grin.
âHolden,â he said. âHow are you guys holding up?â
SIX GâS. SPIT IT OUT .
âRight. So it turns out that the UN cops have been ripping Protogenâ s
network apart, looking for clues as to what the hellâs been going on. Guess
who showed up as public enem y number one for the Protoge n bigwigs?
Yours truly. Suddenly all is forgiven, and Earth welcomes me back into her
warm embrace. The enemy of my enemy thinks I am a righteous bastard.â
GOODY . MY SPLEEN IS COLLAPSING. HURR Y UP .
âThe idea of Eros crashing into Earth is bad enough. Extinctio n-level
event, even if itâs just a rock. But the UN people have been watching the
Eros feeds, and itâ s scaring the shit out of them.â
AND.
âEarth is preparing to launch her entire ground-based nuclear arsenal.
Thousands of nuke s. They âre going to vaporize that rock. The navy will
intercept whatâ s left after the initial attack and sterilize that entire area of
space with constant nuclear bombardment. I know itâs a risk, but itâs what
we have.â
Holden resisted the urge to shake his head. He didnâ t want to wind up
with one cheek stuck to the chair permanently .
EROS DODGED THE NAUV OO. ITâS GOING SIX GâS RIGHT NOW , AND ACCORDING
TO NAOMI, MILLER FEELS NO ACCE LERA TION. WHA TEVER ITâS DOING , IT DOESNâT
HAVE THE SAME INER TIAL LIMIT ATIONS WE HAVE. WHA TâS TO STOP IT FROM JUST
DODGING AGAIN? AT THESE SPEEDS, THE MISSILES WILL NEVER BE ABLE TO TURN
AROUND AND CATCH IT. AND WHA T THE HELL ARE YOU TARGETING ON? EROS
DOESNâT REFLECT RADAR ANYMORE.
âThatâ s where you come in. We need you to try bouncing a laser off of
it. W e can use the Rocinante âs targeting system to guide the missiles in.â
The Limits of Human Endurance
- Eros has bypassed the Nauvoo and is accelerating at six g's without Miller feeling any inertial effects, defying known physics.
- Fred Johnson demands that the Rocinante crew act as a laser guidance system for missiles, even if it requires a suicidal autopilot mission.
- Holden realizes that the ship cannot match the asteroid's speed and that continuing the chase will likely kill his crew via strokes.
- In a moment of frustrated defeat, Holden cuts the engines and accepts that Eros has escaped their pursuit.
Meaning You might all have to die in the seats youâre in right now.
EROS DODGED THE NAUV OO. ITâS GOING SIX GâS RIGHT NOW , AND ACCORDING
TO NAOMI, MILLER FEELS NO ACCE LERA TION. WHA TEVER ITâS DOING , IT DOESNâT
HAVE THE SAME INER TIAL LIMIT ATIONS WE HAVE. WHA TâS TO STOP IT FROM JUST
DODGING AGAIN? AT THESE SPEEDS, THE MISSILES WILL NEVER BE ABLE TO TURN
AROUND AND CATCH IT. AND WHA T THE HELL ARE YOU TARGETING ON? EROS
DOESNâT REFLECT RADAR ANYMORE.
âThatâ s where you come in. We need you to try bouncing a laser off of
it. W e can use the Rocinante âs targeting system to guide the missiles in.â
I HATE TO BREAK IT TO YOU, BUT WEâLL BE OUT OF THIS GAME LONG BEFORE
THOSE MISSILES SHOW . WE CANâT KEEP UP. WE CANâT GUIDE THE MISSILES IN FOR
YOU. AND ONCE WE LOSE VISUAL, NO ONE WILL BE ABLE TO TRACK WHERE EROS
IS.
âYou might have to put it on autopilot,â Fred said.
Meaning You might all have to die in the seats youâr e in right now .
IâVE ALWAYS WANTED TO DIE A MAR TYR AND ALL, BUT WHA T MAKES YOU
THINK THE ROCI CAN BEA T THIS THING ON ITS OWN? IâM NOT KILLING MY CREW
BECAUSE YOU CANâT COME UP WITH A GOOD PLAN .
Fred leaned toward the screen, his eyes narrowing. For the first time,
Fredâ s mask slipped and Holden saw the fear and helplessness behind it.
âLook, I know what Iâm asking, but you know the stakes. This is what
we have. I didnâ t call you to hear how it wonâ t work. Either help or give up.
Right now devilâ s advocate is just another name for asshole.â
Iâm crushing myself to death, probably doing permanent damag e, just
because I wouldnâ t give up, you bastar d. So sorry I didnâ t sign my crew up
to die the minute you said to do it.
Having to type everything out had the advantage of restraining
emotional outbursts. Instead of ripping into Fred for questioning his
commitment, Holden just typed LET ME THINK ABOUT IT and cut the
connection.
The optical tracking system watching Eros flashed a warning to him
that the asteroid was increasing speed again. The giant sitting on his chest
added a few pounds as Alex pushed the Rocinante to keep up. A flashing
red indic ator informed Holden that because of the duration theyâd spent at
the curre nt acceleration, he could expect as much as 12 percent of the crew
to stroke out. It would go up. Enough time, and it would reach 100 percent.
He tried to remember the Rociâs maximum theoretical acceleration. Alex
had already flown it at twelve g briefly when theyâd left the Donnager . The
actual limit was one of those trivial numbers, a way to brag about
something your ship would never really do. Fifteen g, was it? T wenty?
Miller hadnâ t felt any acceleration at all. How fast could you go if you
didnâ t even feel it?
Almost without realizing he was going to do it, Holden activated the
master engine cutof f switch. Within seconds he was in free fall, wracked
with coughs as his organs tried to find their original resting places inside his
body . When Holden had recovered enough to take one really deep breath,
his first in hours, Alex came on the comm.
âCap, did you kill the engines?â the pilot said.
âYeah, that was me. Weâre done. Eros is getting away no matte r what
we do. We were just prolonging the inevitable, and risking some crew
deaths in the process.â
Naomi turned her chair and gave him a sad little smile. She was
sporting a black eye from the acceleration.
âWe did our best,â she said.
Holden shoved out of his chair hard enough that he bruis ed his
forearms on the ceiling, then shoved off hard again and pinned his back to a
bulkhead by grabbing on to a fire extinguisher mount. Naomi was watching
him from across the deck, her mouth a comical O of surprise. He knew he
probably looked ridiculous, like a petulant child throwing a tantrum, but he
couldnâ t stop himself. He broke free of his grip on the fire extinguisher and
floated into the middle of the deck. He hadnâ t known heâd been pounding
on the bulkhead with his other fist. Now that he did, his hand hurt.
âGod dammit,â he said. âJust God dammit.â
The Weight of Failure
- Holden experiences a violent emotional breakdown on the deck, fueled by the guilt of his past decisions and the imminent threat of Eros hitting Earth.
- Naomi confronts Holden's self-pity, revealing she is aware of the secret orders Fred Johnson gave him to potentially sacrifice the crew.
- The tension between Holden and Naomi peaks as she leaves him to check on Amos, leaving Holden alone with his growing panic.
- Holden reflects on the stagnation of humanity, realizing that the entire solar system is still fatally dependent on an Earth that is about to be destroyed.
It would come screaming down out of the sky like every religionâs vision of apocalypse made real, fire and earthquakes and pestilential rain sweeping the land.
Naomi turned her chair and gave him a sad little smile. She was
sporting a black eye from the acceleration.
âWe did our best,â she said.
Holden shoved out of his chair hard enough that he bruis ed his
forearms on the ceiling, then shoved off hard again and pinned his back to a
bulkhead by grabbing on to a fire extinguisher mount. Naomi was watching
him from across the deck, her mouth a comical O of surprise. He knew he
probably looked ridiculous, like a petulant child throwing a tantrum, but he
couldnâ t stop himself. He broke free of his grip on the fire extinguisher and
floated into the middle of the deck. He hadnâ t known heâd been pounding
on the bulkhead with his other fist. Now that he did, his hand hurt.
âGod dammit,â he said. âJust God dammit.â
âWeââ Naomi started, but he cut her of f.
âWe did our best? What the hell does that matter?â Holden felt a red
haze in his mind , and not all of it was from the drugs. âI did my best to help
the Canterbury , too. I tried to do the right thing when I let us be taken by
the Donnager . Did my good intentions mean jack shit?â
Naomiâ s express ion went flat. Now her eyelids dropped, and she stared
at him from narrow slits. Her lips pressed together until they were almost
white. They wanted me to kill you, Holden thought. They wanted me to kill
my crew just in case Eros canât break fifteen g, and I couldnâ t do it. The
guilt and rage and sorrow played against each other , turning into something
thin and unfamiliar . He couldnâ t put a name to the feeling.
âYouâre the last person Iâd expect to hear self-pity from,â she said, her
voice tight. âWhereâ s the capta in whoâ s always asking, âWhat can we do
right now to make things better?ââ
Holden gestured around himself helplessly . âShow me which button to
push to stop everyone on Earth from being killed, Iâll push it.â
Just as long as it doesnâ t kill you.
Naomi unbuckled her harness and floated toward the crew ladder .
âIâm going below to check on Amos,â she said, then opened the deck
hatch. She paused. âIâm your operations officer, Holden. Monitoring
communication lines is part of the job. I know what Fred wanted.â
Holden blinked, and Naomi pulled herself out of sight. The hatch
slammed behind her with a bang that couldnâ t have been any harder than
normal but felt like it was anyway .
Holden called up to the cockpit and told Alex to take a break and get
some coffee. The pilot stopped on his way through the deck, looking like he
wanted to talk, but Holden just waved him on. Alex shrugged and left.
The watery feeling in his gut had taken root and bloomed into a full-
fledged, limb-sh aking panic. Some vicious, vindictive, self-flag ellating part
of his mind insisted on running nonstop movies of Eros hurtling toward
Earth. It would come screaming down out of the sky like every religionâ s
vision of apocalypse made real, fire and earthquakes and pestilential rain
sweeping the land. But each time Eros hit the Earth in his mind, it was the
explosion of the Canterbury he saw. A shockingly sudden white light, and
then nothing but the sound of ice pebbles rattling across his hull like gentle
hail.
Mars would survive, for a while. Pockets of the Belt would hold out
even longer, probably . They had a culture of making do, surviving on
scraps, living on the bleeding edge of their resources. But in the end,
without Earth, everything woul d eventually die. Humans had been out of
the gravity well a long time. Long enough to have developed the technology
to cut that umbilical cord, but theyâd just never bothered to do it. Stagnant.
Humanity , for all its desire to fling itself into every livable pocket it could
reach, had beco me stagnant. Satisfied to fly around in ships built half a
century before, using technology that hadnâ t changed in longer than that.
Earth had been so focused on her own problems that sheâd ignored her
far-flung children, except when asking for her share of their labors. Mars
Curious Monkeys and Stagnant Gods
- Holden reflects on the stagnation of human civilization, noting that technological progress has stalled while Earth, Mars, and the Belt remain trapped in their own systemic cycles.
- The protomolecule is viewed as a dangerous shortcut to godhood that humanity was too arrogant and bored to properly fear.
- Holden justifies his decision to stop the high-g pursuit of Eros, prioritizing the safety of his crew over a chase they were destined to lose.
- A sudden realization occurs when the UNN corvette Ravi activates its transponder, revealing a new threat or anomaly on the tactical display.
But heâd taken their ancient engine of destruction and turned the key anyway, because when you got right down to it, humans were still just curious monkeys.
the gravity well a long time. Long enough to have developed the technology
to cut that umbilical cord, but theyâd just never bothered to do it. Stagnant.
Humanity , for all its desire to fling itself into every livable pocket it could
reach, had beco me stagnant. Satisfied to fly around in ships built half a
century before, using technology that hadnâ t changed in longer than that.
Earth had been so focused on her own problems that sheâd ignored her
far-flung children, except when asking for her share of their labors. Mars
had bent her entire population to the task of remaking the plane t, changing
its red face to green. Trying to make a new Earth to end their reliance on the
old. And the Belt had become the slums of the solar system. Everyone too
busy trying to survive to spend any time creating something new .
We found the protomolecule at exactly the right time for it to do the
most damage to us, Holden thought.
It had looked like a shortcut. A way to avoid having to do any of the
work, to just jump straight to godhood. And it had been so long since
anything was a real threat to humanity outside of itself that no one was even
smart enough to be scared. Dresden had said it himself: The things that had
made the protom olecule, loaded it into Phoebe, and shot it at the Earth were
already godlike back when humanityâ s ancestors thought photosynthesis
and the flagellum were cutting-e dge. But heâd taken their ancient engine of
destruction and turned the key anyway , because when you got right down to
it, humans were still just curious monkeys. They still had to poke
everything they found with a stick to see what it did.
The red haze in Holdenâ s vision had taken on a strange strobing
pattern. It took him a moment to realize that a red telltale on his panel was
flashing, letting him know that the Ravi was calling. He kicked off a nearby
crash couch, floated back to his station, and opened the link.
âRocinante here, Ravi, go ahead.â
âHolden, why are we stopped?â McBride asked.
âBecause we werenâ t going to keep up anyway , and the danger of crew
casualties was getting too high,â he replied. It sounded weak even to him.
Cowardly . McBride didnâ t seem to notice.
âRoger . Iâm going to get new orders. Will let you know if anything
changes.â
Holden killed the connection and stared blankly at the consol e. The
visual tracking system was doing its very best to keep Eros in sight. The
Roci was a good ship. State of the art. And since Alex had tagged the
asteroid as a threat, the computer would do everything in its power to keep
track of it. But Eros was a fast-moving, low-albedo object that didnâ t reflect
radar . It could move unpredictab ly and at high speed. It was just a matter of
time before they lost track of it, especially if it wanted to be lost track of.
Next to the tracking information on his console, a small data window
opened to inform him that the Ravi had turned on its transponder . It was
standard practice even for military ships to keep them on when there was no
apparent threat or need for stealth. The radio man on the little UNN corvette
must have flipped it back on out of habit.
And now the Roci registered it as a known vessel and threw it onto the
threat display with a gently pulsing green dot and a name tag. Holden
looked at it blankly for a long moment. He felt his eyes go wide.
âShit,â Holden said, then opened the shipwide comm. âNaomi, I need
you in ops.â
The Transponder Solution
- Holden realizes that while Eros is invisible to radar, it is not blocking radio transmissions from ships moored to its surface.
- By remotely activating the transponders on five OPA freighters left on Eros, the crew provides a trackable signal for targeting.
- This technical workaround allows the UN and OPA to bypass the stealth capabilities of the asteroid and regain a missile lock.
- The plan results in the launch of the largest swarm of nuclear weapons in human history, aimed directly at the moving asteroid.
- The successful coordination restores Holden's hope that they can defeat the threat without further loss of life among his crew.
Weâre going to win, Holden thought as he watched the missiles take flight like a swarm of angry red dots on his threat display.
opened to inform him that the Ravi had turned on its transponder . It was
standard practice even for military ships to keep them on when there was no
apparent threat or need for stealth. The radio man on the little UNN corvette
must have flipped it back on out of habit.
And now the Roci registered it as a known vessel and threw it onto the
threat display with a gently pulsing green dot and a name tag. Holden
looked at it blankly for a long moment. He felt his eyes go wide.
âShit,â Holden said, then opened the shipwide comm. âNaomi, I need
you in ops.â
âI think Iâd rather stay down here for a bit,â she replied.
Holden hit the battle stationâ s alert button on his console. The deck
lights shifted to red and a Klaxon sounded three times.
âXO Nagata to ops,â he said. Let her chew him out later. Heâd have it
coming. But right now he didnâ t have any time to waste.
Naomi was on the ops deck in less than a minute. Holden had already
buckled back into his crash couch and was pulling up the comm logs.
Naomi pushed over to her chair and belted in as well. She gave him an
inquiring lookâ Are we going to die after all?âbut said nothing. If he said
so, she would. He felt a spike of equal parts admiration for and impatience
with her . He found what he was looking for in the logs before speaking.
âOkay ,â he said. âWeâve had radio contact with Miller after Eros
dropped of f of radar . Is that right?â
âYes, thatâs right,â she said. âBut his suit isnât powerful enough to
transmit through the shell of Eros out to much distance, so one of the
moored ships is boosting the signal for him.â
âWhich means that whatever Eros is doing to kill the radar isnât killing
all radio transmissions from outside.â
âThat seems right,â Naomi said, a growing curiosity in her voice.
âAnd you still have the control codes for the five OPA freigh ters on
the surface, right?â
âYes, sir .â And then a moment later: âOh, shit.â
âOkay ,â Holden said, turning in his chair to face Naomi with a grin.
âWhy do the Roci and every other naval ship in the system have a switch to
turn of f their transponders?â
âSo the enemy canât get a missile lock on the transponder signal and
blow them up,â she said, sharing his grin now .
Holden spun his chair back around and began opening a comm channel
to Tycho Station.
âXO, would you be so kind as to use the control codes Miller gave you
to turn those five OPA freighters back on and fire up their transponders?
Unless our visitor on Eros can outrun radio waves, I think weâve gotten
around the acceleration problem.â
âAye, aye, Captain,â Naomi replied. Even looking the other way,
Holden could hear the smile in her voice, and it melted the last of the ice in
his gut. They had a plan. They were going to make a dif ference.
âCall coming in from the Ravi, â Naomi said. âYou want it before I turn
the transponders on?â
âHell yes.â
The line clicked.
âCaptain Holden. Weâve got our new orders. Seems weâre going to be
chasing that thing a little further .â
McBride sounded almost like someone who hadnâ t just been sent to
her death. Stoic.
âYou might want to hold off on that for a couple minutes,â Holden
said. âW e have an alternative.â
As Naomi activated the transpon ders on the five OPA freighters Miller
had left moored to the surface of Eros, Holden laid out the plan to McBride
and then, on a separate line, Fred. By the time Fred had gotten back to him
with an enthusiastic approval of the plan from both him and the UN Naval
command, the five freighters were pinging away , telling the solar system
where they were. An hour after that, the largest swarm of interplanetary
nuclear weapons in the history of humanity had been fired and were
winging their way toward Eros.
Weâre going to win, Holden thought as he watched the missiles take
flight like a swarm of angry red dots on his threat display . Weâre going to
beat this thing. And what was more, his crew was going to see the end of it.
No one else had to die.
The Missiles and the Door
- Holden coordinates with Fred Johnson and the UN to launch a massive swarm of nuclear missiles toward Eros to destroy the alien threat.
- Despite the impending victory, Holden realizes with dread that Miller is still on the station and will likely perish in the strike.
- Miller struggles to bypass a jammed door on Eros, which has been transformed into a biological landscape resembling a desiccated blood vessel.
- To maintain his mobility, Miller improvises a dangerous physical wedge for his bomb's dead-man trigger, risking immediate detonation.
- The environment inside Eros has become an alien ecosystem filled with bioluminescent dots and a toxic, strange atmosphere.
The corridor beyond was nearly round; the dark growth had filled in the corners until the passage looked like a huge desiccated blood vessel.
had left moored to the surface of Eros, Holden laid out the plan to McBride
and then, on a separate line, Fred. By the time Fred had gotten back to him
with an enthusiastic approval of the plan from both him and the UN Naval
command, the five freighters were pinging away , telling the solar system
where they were. An hour after that, the largest swarm of interplanetary
nuclear weapons in the history of humanity had been fired and were
winging their way toward Eros.
Weâre going to win, Holden thought as he watched the missiles take
flight like a swarm of angry red dots on his threat display . Weâre going to
beat this thing. And what was more, his crew was going to see the end of it.
No one else had to die.
ExceptâŚ
âMiller âs calling,â Naomi said. âProbably noticed we turned his ships
back on.â
Holden had a wrenching feeling in his stomach. Miller would be there,
on Eros, when those missiles arrived. Not everyone would get to celebrate
the coming victory .
âHey . Miller. How you doing?â he said, not quite able to keep the
funereal tone out of his voice.
Miller âs voice was choppy , and half drowned by static, but not so
garbled that Holden couldnâ t hear the tone in it and know that he was about
to take a piss all over their parade.
âHolden,â Miller said. âW e have a problem.â
Chapter Fifty-T wo
Miller
One. T wo. Three.
Miller pushed down on the hand terminal, resetting the trigger again.
The double doors in front of him had once been one of thousand s of quietly
automated mech anisms. They had run reliably in their subtle magnetic
tracks, maybe for years. Now something black with the texture of tree bark
grew like creepers around their sides, deforming the metal. Past them lay
the port corridors, the warehouses, the casino. Everything that had been
Eros Station and was now the vanguard of an invading alien intelligence.
But to reach it, Miller had to pry open a stuck door. In less than five
seconds. While wearing an environment suit.
He put the hand terminal down again and reached quickly for the thin
crack where the two doors met. One. Two. The door shifted a centimeter ,
flakes of black matter sifting down. Three.
Four.
He grabbed the hand terminal again, resetting the trigger .
This shit just wasnâ t going to work.
Miller sat on the ground beside the cart. The Eros feed whisper ed and
muttered, apparently unaware of the tiny invader scratching at the stationâ s
skin. Miller took a long, deep breath. Door didnâ t move. He had to get past
it.
Naomi wasnâ t going to like this.
With his one free hand, Miller loosened the woven metal strap around
the bomb until it could rock back and forth a little. Carefully , slowly , he
lifted the corner of it. Then, watching the status readouts, he wedged the
hand terminal under it, the metal corner digging hard into the touch screen
over the enter button. The trigger stayed green. If the station shook or
shifted, heâd still have five seconds to get to it.
Good enough.
Braced with both hands, Miller tugged at the doors. More of the black
crust fell away as he levered the doors open far enough to see through. The
corridor beyond was nearly round; the dark growth had filled in the corners
until the passage looked like a huge desiccated blood vessel. The only lights
were his suitâs headlights and a million tiny luminescent dots that swirled in
the air like blue fireflies. When the Eros feed pulsed, growing momentarily
louder , the fireflies dimmed and then returned. The environment suit
reported breathable air with higher than expected concentration s of argon,
ozone, and benzene.
One of the luminescent dots floated past him, swirling on currents he
Under the Skin of Eros
- Miller carefully maneuvers a nuclear bomb through a jammed airlock, using a hand terminal as a makeshift dead-man's switch.
- The interior of Eros has been biologically transformed into a dark, organic landscape resembling a desiccated blood vessel filled with bioluminescent fireflies.
- As Miller advances toward the casino level, he finds human architecture like pachinko machines and card tables fused with alien growths and glutinous gels.
- The station's broadcast feed grows louder and more visceral, creating an atmosphere of being swallowed alive by a sentient, monstrous entity.
- Miller observes strange, fast-moving creatures scuttling through the ruins, highlighting the complete displacement of the station's original human population.
The corridor beyond was nearly round; the dark growth had filled in the corners until the passage looked like a huge desiccated blood vessel.
the bomb until it could rock back and forth a little. Carefully , slowly , he
lifted the corner of it. Then, watching the status readouts, he wedged the
hand terminal under it, the metal corner digging hard into the touch screen
over the enter button. The trigger stayed green. If the station shook or
shifted, heâd still have five seconds to get to it.
Good enough.
Braced with both hands, Miller tugged at the doors. More of the black
crust fell away as he levered the doors open far enough to see through. The
corridor beyond was nearly round; the dark growth had filled in the corners
until the passage looked like a huge desiccated blood vessel. The only lights
were his suitâs headlights and a million tiny luminescent dots that swirled in
the air like blue fireflies. When the Eros feed pulsed, growing momentarily
louder , the fireflies dimmed and then returned. The environment suit
reported breathable air with higher than expected concentration s of argon,
ozone, and benzene.
One of the luminescent dots floated past him, swirling on currents he
couldnâ t feel. Miller ignored it, pushing at the doors, widening the gap
centimeter by centimeter . He could put in an arm to feel the crust. It seemed
solid enough to support the cart. That was a godsend. If it had been thigh-
high alien mud, he would have had to find some other way to carry the
bomb. It was going to be bad enough hauling the cart up to the rounded
surface.
No rest for the wicked, Julie Mao said in his mind. No peac e for the
good.
He went back to work.
By the time heâd shoved the doors wide enough to get through, he was
sweating. His arms and back ached. The dark crust had started growing
down the corridor , tendrils shoo ting out toward the airlock, keeping to the
edges, where walls met floor or ceiling. The blue glow had colonized the
air. Eros was heading out the corridor as quickly as he was heading in.
Faster , maybe.
Miller hauled the cart up with both hands, watching the hand terminal
closely . The bomb rocked, but not so much it lost its grip on the trigger .
Once he was safely in the corridor , he took the terminal back.
One. T wo.
The heav y bomb casing had carved a little divot in the touch pad, but it
still worked. Miller took the cart handle and leaned forward, the uneven,
organic surface beneath him translated into the rough tug and flutter of the
cartâs vibration.
Heâd died here once. Heâd been poisoned. Shot. These halls, or ones
much like them, had been his battleground. His and Holdenâ s. They were
unrecognizable now .
He passed throu gh a wide, nearly empty space. The crust had thinned
here, the metal walls of the warehouse showing through in places. One LED
still glowed in the ceiling, the cool white light spilling onto the darkness.
The path led him to the casino level, the architecture of commerce still
bringing visitors to the same spot. The alien bark was nearly gone, but the
space had been transformed. Pachinko machines stood in their rows, half
melted or exploded or, like a few, still glittering and asking for the financial
information that would unlock the gaudy lights and festive, celebratory
sound effects. The card tables were still visible under mushro om caps of
clear glutinous gel. Lining the walls and cathedral-high ceilings, black ribs
rippled with hairlike threads that glowed at the tips without offering any
illumination.
Something screamed, the sound muffled by Miller âs suit. The
broadcast feed of the station sounded louder and richer now that he was
under its skin. He had the sudden, transporting memory of being a child and
watching a video feed of a boy whoâd been swallowed by a monstrous
whale.
Something gray and the size of Miller âs two fists together flew by
almost too fast to see. It hadnâ t been a bird. Something scuttle d behind an
overturned vend ing machine. He realized what was missing. There had
been a million and a half peopl e on Eros, and a large percentage of them
The Corpse of Eros
- Miller realizes that the black crust and glowing rills covering the station are actually the remade remains of the million and a half people who died on Eros.
- Struggling with hyperventilation and the urge to pass out, Miller uses his professional identity as a cop to compartmentalize the horror of his surroundings.
- He formulates a plan to find the station's power source by tracking ambient temperature increases, assuming the protomolecule's engine must generate significant heat.
- Despite the alien growth beginning to encase his equipment, Miller begins his final push toward the station's core with a nuclear dead-man's switch in hand.
The black crust, the millions of dark rills above him with their soft, oceanic glow. Those were the corpses of Eros, recreated. Human flesh, remade.
broadcast feed of the station sounded louder and richer now that he was
under its skin. He had the sudden, transporting memory of being a child and
watching a video feed of a boy whoâd been swallowed by a monstrous
whale.
Something gray and the size of Miller âs two fists together flew by
almost too fast to see. It hadnâ t been a bird. Something scuttle d behind an
overturned vend ing machine. He realized what was missing. There had
been a million and a half peopl e on Eros, and a large percentage of them
had been here, on the casino level, when their own personal apocalypse
came. But there were no bodies. Or, no. That wasnâ t true. The black crust,
the millions of dark rills above him with their soft, oceanic glow. Those
were the corpses of Eros, recrea ted. Human flesh, remade. A suit alarm told
him he was starting to hyperventilate. Darkness started to creep in at the
edge of his vision.
Miller sank to his knees.
Donâ t pass out, you son of a bitch, he told himself. Donâ t pass out, or if
you do, at least land so your weightâ s on the damned trigger .
Julie put her hand on his. He could almost feel it, and it steadied him.
She was right. They were only bodies. Just dead people. Victims. Just
another slab of recycled meat, same as every unlicensed whore heâd seen
stabbed to death in the cheap hotels on Ceres. Same as all the suicides
whoâd thrown themselves out of airlocks. Okay , the protom olecule had
mutilated the flesh in weird ways. Didnâ t change what it was. Didnât change
what he was.
âWhen youâre a cop,â he told Julie, repeating something heâd told
every rookie heâd been partnered with in his career , âyou donât have the
luxury of feeling things. Y ou have to do the job.â
So do the job, she said gently .
He nodded. He stood. Do the job.
As if in respons e, the sound in his suit changed, the Eros feed fluting
up through a hundred different frequencies before exploding in a harsh
flood of what he thought was Hindi. Human voices. Till human voice s wake
us, he thought, without quite being able to recall where the phrase came
from.
Somewhere in the station, there was going to be⌠someth ing. A
control mechanism or a power supply or whatever the protomolecule was
using instead of an engine. He didnâ t know what it would look like or how
it would be defended. He didnâ t have any idea how it worked, apart from
the assumption that if he blew it up, it wouldnâ t keep going very well.
So we go back, he told Julie. We go back to what we do know .
The thing that was growing inside Eros, using the stone skin of the
asteroid as its own unarticulated exoskeleton, hadnâ t cut off the ports. It
hadnâ t moved the interior walls or recreated the chambers and passages of
the casino level. So the stationâ s layout should be pretty near what it had
always been. Okay .
Whatever it used to drive the station through space, it was using a
shitload of ener gy. Okay .
So find the hot spot. With his free hand, he checked the environment
suit. Ambient temperature was twenty-seven degrees: hot but far from
unbearable. He walked briskly back toward the port corridor . The
temperature dropped by less than a hundredth of a degree, but it did drop.
All right, then. He could go to each of the corridors, find which one was
hottest, and follow it. When he found a place in the station that was, say,
three or four degrees hotter than the rest, that would be the place. Heâd roll
the cart up beside it, let up his thumb, and count to five.
No problem.
When he got back to the cart, something golden with the soft look of
heather was growing around the wheels. Miller scraped it off as best he
could, but one of the wheels had still developed a squeak. Nothing to be
done about that.
With one hand hauling the cart and the other mashing down on his
hand terminalâ s dead-manâ s-switch, Miller headed up, deeper into the
The Heart of Eros
- Miller navigates the interior of Eros station by tracking temperature increases to locate the protomolecule's central control hub.
- The station's environment has been grotesquely transformed, featuring golden growths on machinery and severed hands repurposed into mobile, spider-like entities.
- The protomolecule continues to broadcast a repetitive, nonsensical feed of voices that Miller finds increasingly difficult to ignore.
- Despite the horrific biological changes, Miller uses his deep knowledge of station layouts to find the confluence of services where a 'brain' might reside.
- Miller struggles with physical exhaustion and the psychological strain of holding a dead-man's switch while surrounded by the 'glossolalia of the dead.'
It wasnât until he paused to knock one off the cart that he recognized them as severed hands, the trailing wrist bones charred black and remade.
temperature dropped by less than a hundredth of a degree, but it did drop.
All right, then. He could go to each of the corridors, find which one was
hottest, and follow it. When he found a place in the station that was, say,
three or four degrees hotter than the rest, that would be the place. Heâd roll
the cart up beside it, let up his thumb, and count to five.
No problem.
When he got back to the cart, something golden with the soft look of
heather was growing around the wheels. Miller scraped it off as best he
could, but one of the wheels had still developed a squeak. Nothing to be
done about that.
With one hand hauling the cart and the other mashing down on his
hand terminalâ s dead-manâ s-switch, Miller headed up, deeper into the
station.
âSheâ s mine,â mindless Eros said. It had been stuck on the phrase for the
better part of an hour . âSheâ s mine. Sheâ s⌠mine. â
âFine,â Miller muttered. âY ou can have her .â
His shoulder ached. The squeak in the cartâs wheel had grown worse,
the whine of it cutting through the souls-of-the-damned madness of the Eros
feed. His thumb was starting to tingle from the constant, relentless pressure
of not annihilating himself quite yet. With each level he rose, the spin
gravity grew lighter and the Coriolis a little more noticeable. It wasnâ t quite
the same as on Ceres, but it was close and felt like coming home. He found
himself looking forward to when the job was done. He imagined himself
back in his hole, a six-pack of beer, some music on the speakers that had an
actual composer instead of the wild, empty-minded glossolalia of the dead
station. Maybe some light jazz.
Who ever thought the idea of light jazz would be appealing?
âCatch me if you can, cocksuckers,â Eros said. âI am gone and gone
and gone. Gone and gone and gone.â
The inner levels of the station were both more familiar and stranger .
Away from the mass grave of the casino level, more of Erosâ old life
showed through. Tube stops still glowed, announcing line errors and
counseling patience. Air recyclers hummed. The floors were relatively
clean and clear . The sense of near normalcy made the change s stand out
eerily . Dark fronds coated the walls with swirling nautilus patterns. Flakes
of the stuff drifted down from above, whirling in the spin gravi ty like soot.
Eros still had spin gravity but didnâ t have gravity from the massive
acceleration it was under . Miller chose not to try to figure that out.
A flock of softball-sized spiderlike things crawled through the
corridor , leaving a slick sheen of glowing slime behind them. It wasnâ t until
he paused to knock one off the cart that he recognized them as severed
hands, the trailin g wrist bones charred black and remade. Part of his mind
was screaming, but it was a distant one and easy to ignore.
He had to respect the protomolecule. For something that had been
expecting prokaryotic anaerobes, it was doing a bang-up job of making do.
He paused to check his suitâs sensor array . The temperature had risen half a
degree since heâd left the casino and a tenth of a degree since heâd entered
this particular main hall. The background radiation was also climbing, his
poor abused flesh sucking in more rads. The concentration of benzene was
going down, and his suit was picking up more exotic aromatic moleculesâ
tetracene, anthra cene, naphthale neâwith behavior sufficiently strange to
confuse the sensors. So it was the right direction. He leaned forward, the
cart resisting his pull like a bored kid. As he recalled, the structural layout
was roughly like Ceresâ, and he knew Ceres like he knew his name. One
more level upâmaybe twoâth ere would be a confluence of services from
the lower , high-g levels and the supply and energy systems that did better at
lower gravity . It seemed as likely a place to grow a command and control
center as any . As good a location for a brain.
âGone and gone and gone,â Eros said. âAnd gone.â
The Architecture of Ruins
- Miller navigates the labyrinthine corridors of Eros, using his knowledge of Ceres' structural layout to hunt for the protomolecule's command center.
- The narrative reflects on how ancient human history and Roman road widths dictated the design of modern space stations, which now constrain the alien growth.
- The protomolecule has completely terraformed the station's interior, turning local insects and infrastructure into a biological nightmare of pale fronds and larvae.
- As his oxygen supply dwindles to thirty minutes, Miller continues to haul his bomb toward a heat source while hallucinating the presence of Julie Mao.
And now the alienâthe thing from out in the vast darkâwas growing along the corridors, ducts, tube routes, and water pipes laid out by a handful of ambitious primates.
confuse the sensors. So it was the right direction. He leaned forward, the
cart resisting his pull like a bored kid. As he recalled, the structural layout
was roughly like Ceresâ, and he knew Ceres like he knew his name. One
more level upâmaybe twoâth ere would be a confluence of services from
the lower , high-g levels and the supply and energy systems that did better at
lower gravity . It seemed as likely a place to grow a command and control
center as any . As good a location for a brain.
âGone and gone and gone,â Eros said. âAnd gone.â
It was funny , he thought, how the ruins of the past shaped everything
that came after. It seemed to work on all levels; one of the truths of the
universe. Back in the ancient days, when humanity still lived entirely down
a well, the paths laid down by Roman legions had become asphalt and later
ferroconcrete without ever changing a curve or a turn. On Ceres, Eros,
Tycho, the bore of the standard corridor had been determined by mining
tools built to accommodate the trucks and lifts of Earth, which had in turn
been designed to go down tracks wide enough for a mule cartâ s axle.
And now the alienâthe thing from out in the vast darkâwas growing
along the corrido rs, ducts, tube routes, and water pipes laid out by a handful
of ambitious primates. He wondered what it would have been like if the
protomolecule hadnât been captured by Saturn, had actually found its way
into the soup of primordial Earth. No fusion reactors, no navigation drives,
no complex flesh to appropriate . What would it have done differently if it
hadnâ t had to build around some other evolutionâ s design choices?
Miller , Julie said. Keep moving.
He blinked. He was standing in the empty passageway at the base of
an access ramp. He didnâ t know how long heâd been lost in his own mind.
Years, maybe.
He blew out a long breath and started up the ramp. The corridors
above him were reading as considerably hotter than ambient. Almost three
degrees. He was getting close. There was no light, though. He took his
tingling, half-nu mbed thumb off the select button, turned on the hand
terminalâ s little utility LED, and got back to the dead manâ s switch just
before the count of four .
âGone and gone and⌠and⌠and and and and.â
The Eros feed squealed, a chorus of voices chattering in Russi an and
Hindi clamoring over the old singular voice and being drowned out in turn
by a deep creaking howl. Whale song, maybe. Miller âs suit mentioned
politely that he had half an hour of oxygen left. He shut the alarm down.
The transfer station was overgrown. Pale fronds swarmed along the
corridors and twisted into ropes. Recognizable insectsâflies, cockroaches,
water spidersâcrawled along the thick white cables in purposeful waves.
Tendrils of something that looke d like articulated bile swept back and forth,
leaving a film of scurrying larvae. They were as much victim of the
protomolecule as the human population. Poor bastards.
âYou canât take the razor back,â Eros said, and its voice sounded
almost triumphant. âYou canât take the razor back. She is gone and gone
and gone.â
The temperature was climbing faster now. It took him a few minutes to
decide that spinward might be slightly warmer . He hauled the cart. He could
feel the squeaking, a tiny, rattlin g tremor in the bones of his hand. Between
the mass of the bomb and the failing wheel bearings, his shoulders were
starting to really ache. Good thing he wasnâ t going to have to haul this
damn thing back down.
Julie was waiting for him in the darkness; the thin beam from his hand
terminal cut through her. Her hair floated, spin gravity having, after all, no
effect on phantoms of the mind. Her expression was grave.
How does it know? she asked.
Miller paused. Every now and then, all through his career , some
daydreamed witness would say something, use some phrase, laugh at the
The Voice of Eros
- Miller struggles to haul a bomb through the station while hallucinating a grave and questioning Julie Mao.
- He realizes the protomolecule is not just a biological weapon but a learning entity that has absorbed the minds and languages of its victims.
- The revelation strikes that the dead of Eros are still cognitively active within the protomolecule, acting as its navigation and 'grammar'.
- Miller contacts Holden to confirm his own sanity before revealing that Julie Mao is the consciousness driving the station toward Earth.
It had kept the information and languages and complex cognitive structures, building itself on them like asphalt over the roads the legions built.
The temperature was climbing faster now. It took him a few minutes to
decide that spinward might be slightly warmer . He hauled the cart. He could
feel the squeaking, a tiny, rattlin g tremor in the bones of his hand. Between
the mass of the bomb and the failing wheel bearings, his shoulders were
starting to really ache. Good thing he wasnâ t going to have to haul this
damn thing back down.
Julie was waiting for him in the darkness; the thin beam from his hand
terminal cut through her. Her hair floated, spin gravity having, after all, no
effect on phantoms of the mind. Her expression was grave.
How does it know? she asked.
Miller paused. Every now and then, all through his career , some
daydreamed witness would say something, use some phrase, laugh at the
wrong thing, and heâd know that the back of his mind had a new angle on
the case.
This was that moment.
âYou canâ t take the razor back,â Eros crowed.
The comet that took the protomolecule into the solar system in the first
place was a dead drop, not a ship, Julie said, her dark lips never moving. It
was just ballistic. Any ice bullet with the protomolecule in deep freeze. It
was aimed at Earth, but it missed and got grabbed by Saturn instead. The
payload didnâ t steer it. Didnâ t drive it. Didnâ t navigate.
âIt didnâ t need to,â Miller said.
Itâs navigating now. Itâs going to Earth. How does it know to go to
Earth? Where did that information come from? Itâs talking. Wher e did that
grammar come fr om?
Who is the voice of Er os?
Miller closed his eyes. His suit mentioned that he only had twenty
minutes of air .
âYou canâ t take the Razorback ! She is gone and gone and gone!â
âOh fuck,â Miller said. âOh Jesus. â
He let go of the cart, turning back toward the ramp and the light and
the wide station corridors. Everything was shaking, the station itself
trembling like someone on the edge of hypothermia. Only of course it
wasnâ t. The only one shaking was him. It was all in the voice of Eros. It had
been there all the time. He should have known.
Maybe he had.
The protomolecule didnâ t know English or Hindi or Russian or any of
the languages it had been spouting. All of that had been in the minds and
softwares of Erosâ dead, coded in the neurons and grammar programs that
the protomolecule had eaten. Eaten, but not destroyed. It had kept the
information and languages and complex cognitive structures, building itself
on them like asphalt over the roads the legions built.
The dead of Eros werenâ t dead. Juliette Andromeda Mao was alive.
He was grinning so hard his cheeks ached. With one gloved hand, he
tried the connection. The signal was too weak. He couldnâ t get through. He
told his uplink on the surface ship to crank up the power , got a connection.
Holdenâ s voice came over the link.
âHey . Miller . How you doing?â
The words were soft, apologetic . A hospice worker being gentle to the
dying. An incan descent spark of annoyance lit his mind, but he kept his
voice steady .
âHolden,â he said. âW e have a problem.â
Chapter Fifty-Thr ee
Holden
âActually , weâve sort of figured out how to solve the problem,â Holden
replied.
âI donâ t think so. Iâm linking you to my suitâ s med data,â Miller said.
A few seconds later, four columns of numbers popped up in a small
window on Holdenâ s console. It all looked fairly normal, though there were
subtleties that only a med-tech, like Shed, would be able to interpret
correctly .
âOkay ,â Holden said. âThatâ s great. Youâre getting a little irradiated,
but other than thatââ
Miller cut him of f.
âAm I suf fering from hypoxia?â he said.
The data from his suit showed 87 mmHg, comfortably above baseline.
âNo,â Holden said.
âAnything that would make a guy hallucinate or get demented?
Alcohol, opiates. Something like that?â
âNot that I can see,â Holden said, growing impatient. âWhatâ s this
about? Are you seeing things?â
âJust the usual,â Miller replied. âI wanted to get that shit out the way,
The Ghost in the Machine
- Miller claims that Julie Mao is still alive and is the consciousness currently piloting the asteroid Eros.
- Holden attempts to verify Miller's sanity through suit telemetry, but the data shows Miller is physiologically stable despite high radiation.
- Miller argues that the protomolecule does not follow human definitions of death, suggesting Julie has become a 'seed crystal' for the entity.
- Holden reveals that Earth has launched its entire nuclear arsenal at Eros, giving Miller only twenty-seven hours to find Julie before total sterilization.
This shit hasnâ t been playing by our rules since day one, you expect it to start now?
âOkay ,â Holden said. âThatâ s great. Youâre getting a little irradiated,
but other than thatââ
Miller cut him of f.
âAm I suf fering from hypoxia?â he said.
The data from his suit showed 87 mmHg, comfortably above baseline.
âNo,â Holden said.
âAnything that would make a guy hallucinate or get demented?
Alcohol, opiates. Something like that?â
âNot that I can see,â Holden said, growing impatient. âWhatâ s this
about? Are you seeing things?â
âJust the usual,â Miller replied. âI wanted to get that shit out the way,
because I know what youâre going to say next.â
He stopp ed talking, and the radio hissed and popped in Holdenâ s ear.
When Miller spoke again after several seconds of silence, his voice had
taken on a different tone. It wasnâ t quite pleading, but close enough to make
Holden shift uncomfortably in his seat.
âSheâ s alive.â
There was only one she in Miller âs universe. Julie Mao. âUh, okay .
Not sure how to respond to that.â
âYouâll have to take my word that Iâm not having a nervous
breakdown or psychotic episode or anything like that. But Julieâ s in here.
Sheâs driving Eros.â
Holden looked at the suitâs medical data again, but it kept reporting
normal readings, all the numbers except for radiation comfortably in the
green. His blood chemistry didnât even look like he was particularly
stressed for a guy carrying a fusion bomb to his own funeral.
âMiller , Julieâ s dead. We both saw the body . We saw what the
protomolecule⌠did to it.â
âWe saw her body , sure. We just assumed she was dead because of the
damageââ
âShe didnâ t have a heartbeat, â Holden said. âNo brain activity , no
metabolism. Thatâ s pretty much the definition of dead. â
âHow do we know what dead looks like to the protomolecule?â
âWeââ Holden started, then stopped. âWe donât, I guess. But no
heartbeat, thatâ s a pretty good start.â
Miller laughed.
âWeâve both seen the feeds, Holden. Those rib cages equipped with
one arm that drag themselves around, think they have a heartbeat? This shit
hasnâ t been playing by our rules since day one, you expect it to start now?â
Holden smiled to himself. Miller was right.
âOkay , so what makes you think Julie isnât just a rib cage and a mass
of tentacles?â
âShe might be, but itâs not her body Iâm talking about,â Miller said.
âSheâs in here. Her mind. Itâs like sheâs flying her old racing pinnace. The
Razorback. Sheâs been babbling about it on the radio for hours now, and I
just didnâ t put it together . But now that I have, itâ s pretty goddamn clear .â
âWhy is she headed toward Earth?â
âI donât know ,â Miller said. He sounded excited, interested. More alive
than Holden had ever heard him. âMaybe the protomolecule wants to get
there and itâs messing with her. Julie wasnâ t the first person to get infected,
but sheâs the first one that survi ved long enough to get somewh ere. Maybe
sheâs the seed crystal and everything that the protomoleculeâ s doing is built
on her. I donât know that, but I can find out. I just need to find her. Talk to
her.â
âYou need to get that bomb to wherever the controls are and set it of f.â
âI canâ t do that,â Miller said. Because of course he couldnâ t.
It doesnâ t matter , Holden thought. In a little less than thirty hours,
youâr e both radioactive dust.
âAll right. Can you find your girl in less thanââHolden had the Roci
do a revised time of impact for the incoming missilesââtw enty-seven
hours?â
âWhy? What happens in twenty-seven hours?â
âEarth fired her entire interplanetary nuclear arsenal at Eros a few
hours ago. We just turned the transponders on in the five freighters you
parked on the surface. The missiles are targeting them. The Roci is guessing
twenty-seven hours to impact based on the current acceleration curve. The
Martian and UN navies are on their way to sterilize the area after
detonation. Make sure nothing survives or slips the net.â
âJesus.â
The Julie Template
- Earth has launched its entire interplanetary nuclear arsenal at Eros, targeting transponders Holden placed on the surface.
- Miller attempts to convince Holden to shut down the transponders, arguing that he can stop the asteroid without a nuclear strike.
- Miller theorizes that the protomolecule has been forced to improvise by using Julie Mao's complex human brain as its primary template.
- According to Miller, Eros is not attacking Earth but is instead 'going home' because Julie's consciousness is driving the entity.
- Holden and Naomi struggle to determine if Miller is being manipulated by the infection or if his hunch about negotiating with Julie is correct.
The protomolecule piggybacked on her structure, her brain. And so she infected it as much as it infected her.
do a revised time of impact for the incoming missilesââtw enty-seven
hours?â
âWhy? What happens in twenty-seven hours?â
âEarth fired her entire interplanetary nuclear arsenal at Eros a few
hours ago. We just turned the transponders on in the five freighters you
parked on the surface. The missiles are targeting them. The Roci is guessing
twenty-seven hours to impact based on the current acceleration curve. The
Martian and UN navies are on their way to sterilize the area after
detonation. Make sure nothing survives or slips the net.â
âJesus.â
âYeah,â Holden said with a sigh. âIâm sorry I didnâ t tell you sooner .
Iâve had a lot going on, and it sort of slipped my mind.â
There was another long silence on the line.
âYou can stop them,â Miller said. âShut down the transponders.â
Holden spun his chair around to face Naomi. Her face had the same
what did he just say? look that he knew was on his own. She pulled the
suitâs medical data over to her console, then called up the Rociâs medical
expert system and began runnin g a full medical diagnostic. The implication
was clear . She thought somet hing was wrong with Miller that wasnâ t
immediately apparent from the data they were getting. If the protomolecule
had infected him, used him as a last-ditch misdirectionâŚ
âNot a chance, Miller . This is our last shot. If we blow this one, Eros
can orbit the Earth, spraying brown goo all over it. No way we take that
risk.â
âLook,â Miller said, his tone alternating between the earlier pleading
and a growing frustration. â Julie is in her e. If I can find her, a way to talk to
her, I can stop this without the nukes.â
âWhat, ask the protomolecule to pretty please not infect the Earth,
when that was what it was designed to do? Appeal to its better nature?â
Miller paused for a moment before speaking again.
âLook, Holden, I think I know whatâ s going on here. This thing was
intended to infect single-celled organisms. The most basic forms of life,
right?â
Holden shrugged, then rememb ered there was no video feed and said,
âOkay .â
âThat didnâ t work, but itâs a smart bastard. Adaptive. It got into a
human host, a complex multicelled organism. Aerobic. Huge brain. Nothing
like what it was built for. Itâs been improvising ever since. That mess on the
stealth ship? That was its first try. We saw what it was doing with Julie in
that Eros bathroom. It was learning how to work with us.â
âWhere are you going with this?â Holden said. There was no time
pressure yet, with the missiles still more than a day away , but he couldnâ t
quite keep the impatience out of his voice.
âAll Iâm saying is Eros now isnât what the protomoleculeâ s designers
planned on. Itâs their original plan laid over the top of billions of years of
our evolution. And when you improvise, you use what youâve got. You use
what works. Julieâ s the template. Her brain, her emotions are all over this
thing. She sees this run to Earth as a race, and sheâs crowing about winning.
Laughing at you because you canâ t keep up.â
âWait,â Holden said.
âSheâ s not attacking Earth, sheâs going home. For all we know , sheâs
not heading for Earth at all. Luna, maybe. She grew up there. The
protomolecule piggybacked on her structure, her brain. And so she infected
it as much as it infected her. If I can make her understand whatâ s really
going on, then maybe I can negotiate with her .â
âHow do you know that?â
âCall it a hunch,â Miller said. âIâm good with hunches.â
Holden whistled, the entire situation doing a flip-flop in his head. The
new perspective was dizzying.
âBut the protomolecule still wants to obey its program,â Holden said.
âAnd we have no idea what that is.â
Negotiating with the Protomolecule
- Miller argues that Julie Maoâs consciousness has merged with the protomolecule, influencing its trajectory toward Earth.
- Holden expresses skepticism about the protomolecule's intentions, fearing its need for biomass will lead to human extinction.
- Miller believes he can leverage Julie's love for humanity to convince her to divert Eros away from Earth.
- Despite the high stakes, Holden grants Miller a limited window of time to find Julie and negotiate before detonating the bombs.
- The tension escalates as Holden realizes that if Julie decides to fight back using the protomolecule's physics-defying abilities, the Rocinante may be outmatched.
Holden felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up at the idea of Eros actually fighting.
âWait,â Holden said.
âSheâ s not attacking Earth, sheâs going home. For all we know , sheâs
not heading for Earth at all. Luna, maybe. She grew up there. The
protomolecule piggybacked on her structure, her brain. And so she infected
it as much as it infected her. If I can make her understand whatâ s really
going on, then maybe I can negotiate with her .â
âHow do you know that?â
âCall it a hunch,â Miller said. âIâm good with hunches.â
Holden whistled, the entire situation doing a flip-flop in his head. The
new perspective was dizzying.
âBut the protomolecule still wants to obey its program,â Holden said.
âAnd we have no idea what that is.â
âI can damn sure tell you it isnât wiping humans out. The things that
shot Phoebe at us two billion years ago didnâ t know what the hell humans
were. Whatever it wants to do needed biomass, and itâ s got that now .â
Holden couldnâ t stop himself from snorting at that.
âSo, what? They donât mean us any harm? Seriously? You think if we
explain that weâd rather not have it land on Earth, then it will just agree and
go somewhere else?â
âNot it,â Miller said. âHer .â
Naomi looked up at Holden, shaking her head. She wasnâ t seeing
anything or ganic wrong with Miller either .
âIâve been work ing this case for, shit, almost a year,â Miller said. âIâve
climbed into her life, read her mail, met her friends. I know her. Sheâs about
as independent as a person can be, and she loves us.â
âUs?â Holden asked.
âPeople. She loves humans. She gave up being the little rich girl and
joined the OPA. She backed the Belt because it was the right thing to do.
No way she kills us if she knows thatâs whatâ s happening. I just need to find
a way to explain. I can do this. Give me a chance.â
Holden ran a hand through his hair, grimacing at the accum ulating
grease. A day or two at high g was not conducive to regular showering.
âCanâ t do it,â Holden said. âStakes are too high. Weâre going ahead
with the plan. Iâm sorry .â
âSheâll beat you,â Miller said.
âWhat?â
âOkay , maybe she wonâ t. Youâve got a shitload of firepower . But the
protomoleculeâ s figured out how to get around inertia. And Julie? Sheâs a
fighter , Holden. If you take her on, my moneyâ s on her .â
Holden had seen the video of Julie fighting off her attackers on board
the stealth ship. Sheâd been methodical and ruthless in her own defense.
Sheâd fought without giving quarter . Heâd seen the wildness in her eyes
when she felt trapped and threatened. Only her attackersâ comba t armor had
kept her from doing a lot more damage before they took her down.
Holden felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up at the idea of Eros
actually fighting. So far it had been content to run from their clumsy
attacks. What happened when it went to war?
âYou could find her ,â Holden said, âand use the bomb.â
âIf I canât get through to her,â Miller said, âthatâ s my deal. Iâll find her.
Iâll talk to her. If I canât get through, Iâll take her out, and you can turn Eros
into a cinder . Iâm fine with that. But you have to give me time to try it my
way first.â
Holden looked at Naomi lookin g back at him. Her face was pale. He
wanted to see the answer in her expression, to know what he should do
based on what she thought. He didnâ t. It was his call.
âDo you need more than twenty-seven hours?â Holden finally asked.
He heard Miller exhale loudly . There was gratitude in his voice that
was, in its own way , worse than the pleading had been.
âI donât know . There are a couple thousand kilometers of tunnels down
here, and none of the transit systems work. I have to walk everywhere
pulling this damn wagon. Not to mention the fact that I donât really know
what Iâm even looking for . But give me a little time, Iâll figure it.â
âAnd you know that if this doesnâ t work, youâll have to kill her.
Yourself and Julie?â
âI know .â
Holden had the Roci calculate how long it would take Eros to reach the
A Desperate Delay
- Holden decides to grant Miller more time on Eros to find Julie Mao, despite the imminent threat of Earth's nuclear missiles.
- Naomi initially challenges Holden's decision, questioning his trust in Miller, whom they previously viewed as an unstable killer.
- Holden argues that Miller's unique intuition and connection to Julie represent the only hope for a non-violent resolution.
- The crew of the Rocinante begins calculating a way to curve the trajectory of the incoming missiles to delay their impact without aborting the mission.
- The decision balances the risk of planetary destruction against the possibility of preventing an interspecies war through Miller's intervention.
You think heâs insane. You threw him off the ship because you thought he was a psychopath and a killer, and now youâre going to let him speak for humanity to an alien God-thing that wants to rip us to shreds?
Holden looked at Naomi lookin g back at him. Her face was pale. He
wanted to see the answer in her expression, to know what he should do
based on what she thought. He didnâ t. It was his call.
âDo you need more than twenty-seven hours?â Holden finally asked.
He heard Miller exhale loudly . There was gratitude in his voice that
was, in its own way , worse than the pleading had been.
âI donât know . There are a couple thousand kilometers of tunnels down
here, and none of the transit systems work. I have to walk everywhere
pulling this damn wagon. Not to mention the fact that I donât really know
what Iâm even looking for . But give me a little time, Iâll figure it.â
âAnd you know that if this doesnâ t work, youâll have to kill her.
Yourself and Julie?â
âI know .â
Holden had the Roci calculate how long it would take Eros to reach the
Earth at the current rate of acceleration. The missiles from Earth were
covering the distance a lot faster than Eros was. The IPBMs were just
overpowered Epstein drives with nuclear bombs riding up front. Their
acceleration limits were the functional limits of the Epstein drive itself. If
the missiles didnâ t arrive, it would still take nearly a week for Eros to get to
Earth, even if it kept a constant rate of acceleration.
There was some flexibility in there.
âHold on, let me work someth ing out here,â Holden said to Miller ,
then muted the connection. âNao mi, the missiles are flying in a straight line
toward Eros, and the Roci thinks theyâll intercept it in about twenty-seven
hours, give or take. How much time do we buy if we turn that straight line
into a curve? How much of a curve can we do and still give the missiles a
chance to catch Eros before it gets too close?â
Naomi tipped her head to one side, looking at him suspiciously
through narrowed eyes.
âWhat are you about to do?â she said.
âMaybe give Miller a chance to head of f the first interspecies war .â
âYou trust Miller ?â she said with surprising vehemence. âYou think
heâs insane. You threw him off the ship because you though t he was a
psychopath and a killer , and now youâre going to let him speak for
humanity to an alien God-thing that wants to rip us to shreds?â
Holden had to suppress a smile. Telling an angry woman was how
attractive her anger made her would make it stop being cute very quickly .
And besides that, he needed it to make sense to her. That was how heâd
know if he was right.
âYou told me once that Miller was right, even when I thought he was
wrong.â
âI didnâ t make it a blanket statement,â Naomi said, spacing her words
out like she was speaking to an idiot child. âI said he was right to shoot
Dresden. That doesnâ t mean Miller âs stable. Heâs in the process of
committing suicide, Jim. Heâs fixated on this dead girl. I canât even begin to
imagine what might be going through his head right now .â
âAgreed. But heâs there, on the scene, and heâs got a keen eye for
observation and just plain figuring shit out. This guy tracked us to Eros
based on the ship name we picked. Thatâ s pretty damned impressive. Heâd
never even met me, and he knew me well enough from resear ching me to
know Iâd like naming my ship after Don Quixoteâ s horse.â
Naomi laughed. âReally? Is that where that comes from?â
âSo when he says that he knows Julie, I believe him.â
Naomi started to say something, then paused.
âYou think sheâll beat the nukes?â Naomi said, more softly .
âHe thinks she can. And he thinks he can talk her into not killing us
all. I have to give him that chance. I owe it to him.â
âEven if it means killing Earth?â
âNo,â Holden said. âNot that much.â
Naomi paused again. Her anger faded.
âSo delay the impact, not abort,â Naomi said.
âBuy him some time. How much can we get?â
Naomi frowned, looking at the readouts. He could almost see the
options clicking through her mind. She smiled, her fierceness gone now,
replaced by the mischievous look she got when she knew she was being
really clever .
The Price of Time
- Holden and Naomi devise a plan to delay the Earth's nuclear missiles by tricking their guidance systems into following a long, looping arc.
- The strategy involves a coordinated hacking attempt to lock the missiles' programming, preventing the UN from overriding the redirection.
- Fred Johnson initially refuses to cooperate, believing Miller's attempt to negotiate with the protomolecule on Eros is a suicide mission.
- Holden leverages the last remaining sample of the protomolecule as a bribe to force Fred's compliance with the plan.
- The delay is intended to give Miller a window to either talk to the entity controlling Eros or destroy it from within before the nukes arrive.
Weâll tell them weâre going to trick them so they stop listening, and once theyâre not listening, weâll trick them.
Naomi started to say something, then paused.
âYou think sheâll beat the nukes?â Naomi said, more softly .
âHe thinks she can. And he thinks he can talk her into not killing us
all. I have to give him that chance. I owe it to him.â
âEven if it means killing Earth?â
âNo,â Holden said. âNot that much.â
Naomi paused again. Her anger faded.
âSo delay the impact, not abort,â Naomi said.
âBuy him some time. How much can we get?â
Naomi frowned, looking at the readouts. He could almost see the
options clicking through her mind. She smiled, her fierceness gone now,
replaced by the mischievous look she got when she knew she was being
really clever .
âAs much as you want.â
âYou want to do what?â Fred asked.
âPull the nukes off course for a while to buy Miller some time, but not
so much that we canât still use them to destroy Eros if we need to,â Holden
said.
âItâs simple,â Naomi added. âIâm sending you detailed instructions.â
âGive me the overview ,â Fred said.
âEarth has targeted their missiles on the five freighter transponders on
Eros,â Naomi said, pulling her plan up as an overlay on the comm video.
âYou have ships and stations all over the Belt. You use the transponder
reconfiguring program you gave us way back when, and you keep shifting
those transponder codes to ships or stations along these vectors to pull the
missiles into a long arc that eventually wraps back around to Eros.â
Fred shook his head.
âWonât work. The minute UNN Command sees weâre doing it, theyâll
just tell the missiles to stop follo wing those particular codes, and theyâll try
to figure out some other way to target Eros,â he said. âAnd theyâll also be
really pissed at us.â
âYeah, theyâre going to be pissed all right,â Holden said. âBut theyâre
not going to get their missiles back. Just before you start leading the
missiles off course, weâre going to launch a massive hacking attempt from
multiple locations on the missiles.â
âSo theyâll assume an enemy is trying to trick them, and shut down
mid-flight reprogramming,â Fred said.
âYep,â Holden replied. âWeâll tell them weâre going to trick them so
they stop listening, and once theyâre not listening, weâll trick them.â
Fred shook his head again, this time giving Holden the vaguely
frightened look of a man who wanted to back slowly out of the room.
âThere is no way in hell I am going along with this,â he said. âMiller
isnât going to work some magical deal with the aliens. Weâre going to wind
up nuking Eros no matter what. Why delay the inevitable?â
âBecause,â Holden said. âIâm starting to think it might be less
dangerous this way. If we use the missiles without taking out Erosâ
command center ⌠brain⌠whatever , we donât know if itâll work, but Iâm
pretty sure our chances go down. Miller âs the only one who can do that.
And these are his terms.â
Fred said something obscene.
âIf Miller doesnâ t manage to talk to it, heâll take it out. I do trust him
for that,â Holden said. âCome on, Fred, you know these missile designs as
well as I do. Better . They put enough fuel pellets in those drives to fly
around the solar system twice. We arenâ t losing anything by giving Miller a
little more time.â
Fred shook his head a third time. Holden saw his face go hard. He
wasnâ t going to buy it. Before he could say no, Holden said, âRemember
that box with the protomolecule samples, and all the lab notes? Want to
know what my price is for it?â
âYou,â Fred said slowly , drawing it out, âare out of your God damn
mind.â
âWant to buy it or what?â Holden replied. âYou want the magic ticket
to a seat at the table? You know my price now. Give Miller his chance, and
the sampleâ s yours.â
âIâd be curious to know how you talked them into it,â Miller said. âI was
thinking I was probably screwed.â
The Price of a Miracle
- Holden leverages the protomolecule sample to buy Miller more time on Eros, despite Fred Johnson's disbelief.
- Miller survives on the infested station by scavenging oxygen from medical cylinders and fire-suppression stations.
- The protomolecule has transformed Eros into a lush, alien landscape of black spirals and bronze filaments.
- Miller searches for Julie Mao, who is subconsciously piloting the station toward Earth, while hauling a nuclear bomb.
- Holden suggests Venus as a potential destination for Julie to 'park' the station if Miller can convince her to divert.
The medical bays were lush and overgrown, black spirals with filaments of bronze and steel climbing the walls, encrusting the examination tables, feeding on the supplies of narcotics, steroids, and antibiotics spilling out of the broken supply cabinets.
Fred shook his head a third time. Holden saw his face go hard. He
wasnâ t going to buy it. Before he could say no, Holden said, âRemember
that box with the protomolecule samples, and all the lab notes? Want to
know what my price is for it?â
âYou,â Fred said slowly , drawing it out, âare out of your God damn
mind.â
âWant to buy it or what?â Holden replied. âYou want the magic ticket
to a seat at the table? You know my price now. Give Miller his chance, and
the sampleâ s yours.â
âIâd be curious to know how you talked them into it,â Miller said. âI was
thinking I was probably screwed.â
âDoesnâ t matter ,â Holden said. âWe bought you your time. Go find the
girl and save humanity . Weâll be waiting to hear back.â And ready to nuke
you into dust if we donâ t remained unsaid. There was no need.
âIâve been thinking about where to go, if I can talk to her,â Miller said.
He had the alrea dy lost hopefulness of a man with a lottery ticket. âI mean,
sheâs got to park this thing somewhere.â
If we live. If I can save her . If the miracle is true.
Holden shrugged, even though no one could see it.
âGive her V enus,â he said. âItâ s an awful place.â
Chapter Fifty-Four
Miller
âI donât and I donât,â the voice of Eros muttered. Juliette Mao, talking in
her sleep. âI donâ t and I donâ t and I donâ tâŚâ
âCome on,â Miller said. âCome on, you sonofabitch. Be here.â
The medical bays were lush and overgrown, black spirals with
filaments of bronze and steel climbing the walls, encrusting the examination
tables, feeding on the supplies of narcotics, steroids, and antibiotics spilling
out of the broken supply cabinets. Miller dug through the clutter with one
hand, his suit alarm chiming. His air had the sour taste that came from
being through the recyclers too many times. His thumb, still mashed on the
dead manâ s switch, tingled when it wasnâ t shooting with pain.
He brushed the almost fungal growth off a storage box that wasnâ t
broken yet, found the latch. Four medical gas cylinders: two red, one green,
one blue. He looked at the seal. The protomolecule hadnâ t gotten them yet.
Red for anesthet ic. Blue nitrogen. He picked up the green. The sterile shield
on the delivery nipple was in place. He took a deep sighing breath of dying
air. Another few hours. He put down his hand terminal (one⌠two⌠),
popped the seal (threeâŚ), fed the nipple into his suitâs intake (four⌠), and
put a finger on the hand terminal. He stood, feeling the cool of the oxygen
tank in his hand while his suit revised his life span. Ten minut es, an hour,
four hours. The medical cylinder âs pressure hit equality with the suitâs, and
he popped it of f. Four more hours. Heâd won himself four more hours.
It was the third time heâd mana ged an emer gency resupply since heâd
talked to Holden . The first had been at a fire-suppression station , the second
at a backup recycling unit. If he went back down to the port, there would
probably be some uncompromised oxygen in some of the supply closets and
docked ships. If he went all the way back to the surface, the OPA ships
would have plenty .
But there wasnâ t time for that. He wasnâ t looking for air; he was
looking for Juliette. He let himself stretch. The kinks in his neck and back
were threatening to turn into cramps. The CO2 levels in the suit were still
on the high side of acceptable, even with the new oxygen coming into the
mix. The suit needed mainten ance and a new filter . Itâd have to wait.
Behind him, the bomb in its cart kept its own counsel.
He had to find her. Somewhere in the maze of corridors and rooms, the
dead city, Juliet te Mao was driving them back to Earth. Heâd tracked four
hot spots. Three had been decent candidates for his original plan of vast
nuclear immola tion: hubs of wire and black alien filament tangling into
huge organic-looking nodes. The fourth had been a cheap lab reactor
churning on its way to meltdown . It had taken him fifteen minutes to get the
Miller's Final Search
- Miller navigates the decaying, alien-infested Eros station while dragging a fusion bomb on a squeaky cart.
- Despite physical exhaustion and rising CO2 levels in his suit, he remains obsessed with finding Juliette Mao before the station reaches Earth.
- The station exhibits strange, organic behaviors, with alien growth reacting to unseen forces and the structure creaking like an old sailing ship.
- Miller begins to hear Julie's voice harmonizing with the collective 'singing' of the station, suggesting she is deeply integrated into the alien network.
Behind him, the bomb in its cart kept its own counsel.
docked ships. If he went all the way back to the surface, the OPA ships
would have plenty .
But there wasnâ t time for that. He wasnâ t looking for air; he was
looking for Juliette. He let himself stretch. The kinks in his neck and back
were threatening to turn into cramps. The CO2 levels in the suit were still
on the high side of acceptable, even with the new oxygen coming into the
mix. The suit needed mainten ance and a new filter . Itâd have to wait.
Behind him, the bomb in its cart kept its own counsel.
He had to find her. Somewhere in the maze of corridors and rooms, the
dead city, Juliet te Mao was driving them back to Earth. Heâd tracked four
hot spots. Three had been decent candidates for his original plan of vast
nuclear immola tion: hubs of wire and black alien filament tangling into
huge organic-looking nodes. The fourth had been a cheap lab reactor
churning on its way to meltdown . It had taken him fifteen minutes to get the
emer gency shutdown going, and he probably shouldnâ t have wasted the
time. But wherever he went, no Julie. Even the Julie of his imagination was
gone, as if the ghost had no place now that he knew the real woman was
still alive. He missed having her around, even if sheâd only been a vision.
A wave went through the medical bays, all the alien growth rising and
falling like iron filings with a magnet passed beneath them. Miller âs heart
sped up, adrenaline leaking into his blood, but it didnâ t happen again.
He had to find her. He had to find her soon. He could feel exhaustion
grinding at him, little teeth chewing at the back of his mind. He already
wasnâ t thinking as clearly as he should. Back on Ceres, heâd have gone
back to his hole, slept for a day, and come back to the problem whole. Not
an option here.
Full circle. Heâd come full circle. Once, in a different life, heâd taken
on the task of finding her; then, when heâd failed, thereâd been taking
vengeance. And now he had the chance to find her again, to save her . And if
he couldnâ t, he was still pulling a cheap, squeaky-wheeled wagon behind
him that would do for revenge.
Miller shook his head. He was having too many moments like this,
getting lost in his own thoughts. He took a fresh grip on the cart full of
fusion bomb, leaned forward, and headed out. The station around him
creaked the way he imagined an old sailing ship might have, timbers bent
by waves of salt water and the great tidal tug-of-war between earth and
moon. Here, it was stone, and Miller couldnâ t guess what forces were acting
on it. Hopefully nothing that would interfere with the signal between his
hand terminal and his cargo. He didnâ t want to be reduced to his component
atoms unintentionally .
It was getting more and more clear that he couldnâ t cover the whole
station. Heâd known that from the start. If Julie had gotten herself
someplace obscureâhidden in some niche or hole like a dying catâhe
wouldnâ t find her. Heâd become a gambler , betting against all hope on
drawing the inside straight. The voice of Eros shifted, different voices now,
singing somethi ng in Hindi. A childâ s round, Eros harmonizing with itself
in a grow ing richness of voices. Now that he knew to listen for it, he heard
Julieâ s voice threading its way among the others. Maybe it had always been
there. His frustration verged on physical pain. She was so close, but he
couldnâ t quite reach her .
He pulled himself back into the main corridor complex. The hospital
bays had been a good place to look for her too. Plausible. Fruitless. Heâd
looked at the two mercantile bio-labs. Nothing. Heâd tried the morgue, the
police holding tanks. Heâd even gone through the evidence room, bin after
plastic bin of contraband drugs and confiscated weapons scattered on the
The Search for Julie Mao
- Miller searches the abandoned facilities of Eros, finding only the discarded remnants of human lives and legal evidence rendered moot by the catastrophe.
- A swarm of silver, alien molecules improvises and flows through the station's corridors like a flock of metallic birds.
- Miller experiences hallucinations of his former associates, including Holden and Havelock, who act as a subconscious sounding board for his investigation.
- He realizes that Julie's physical remains were likely used as the primary seed for the protomolecule's spread across the entire station.
- By treating the protomolecule outbreak like a criminal drug operation, Miller deduces that Protogen must have kept Julie in a secure, private isolation site.
Light glittered off the living metal, bright as fish scales.
singing somethi ng in Hindi. A childâ s round, Eros harmonizing with itself
in a grow ing richness of voices. Now that he knew to listen for it, he heard
Julieâ s voice threading its way among the others. Maybe it had always been
there. His frustration verged on physical pain. She was so close, but he
couldnâ t quite reach her .
He pulled himself back into the main corridor complex. The hospital
bays had been a good place to look for her too. Plausible. Fruitless. Heâd
looked at the two mercantile bio-labs. Nothing. Heâd tried the morgue, the
police holding tanks. Heâd even gone through the evidence room, bin after
plastic bin of contraband drugs and confiscated weapons scattered on the
floor like oak leaves in one of the grand parks. It had all meant something
once. Each one had been part of a small human drama, waiting to be
brought out into the light, part of a trial or at least a hearing. Some small
practice for judgment day , postponed now forever . All points were moot.
Something silver flew above him, faster than a bird, and then another ,
and then a flock, streaming by overhead. Light glittered off the living metal,
bright as fish scales. Miller watched the alien molecule improvising in the
space above him.
You canât stop here, Holden said. You have to stop running and get on
the right r oad.
Miller looked over his shoulder . The captain stood, real and not, where
his inner Julie would have been.
Well, thatâ s inter esting, Miller thought.
âI know ,â he said. âItâs just⌠I donât know where she went. AndâŚ
well, look around. Big place, you know?â
You can stop her or I will, his imaginary Holden said.
âIf I just knew where she went,â Miller said.
She didnâ t, Holden said. She never went .
Miller turned to look at him. The swarm of silver roiled overhead,
chittering like insects or a badly tuned drive. The captain looked tired.
Miller âs imagina tion had put a surprising swath of blood at the corner of the
manâ s mouth. And then it wasn ât Holden anymore; it was Havelock. The
other Earther. His old partner . And then it was Muss, her eyes as dead as his
own.
Julie didnâ t go anyplace. Miller had seen her in the hotel room, back
when he still hadnâ t believed that anything but a bad smell could rise from
the grave. Back before. Sheâd been taken away in a body bag. And then
taken somewhere else. The Protogen scientists had recovered her, harvested
the protomolecule, and spread Julieâ s remade flesh through the station like
bees pollinating a field of wildflowers. Theyâd given her the station, but
before theyâd done it, theyâd put her someplace they thought they would be
safe.
Safe room. Until they were ready to distribute the thing, theyâd want to
contain it. To pretend it could be contained. It wasnâ t likely theyâd have
gone to the trouble of cleaning up after theyâd gotten what they needed. It
wasnâ t as if anyone else was going to be around to use the space, so chances
were good she was still there. That narrowed things.
There would be isolation wards in the hospital, but Protogen wouldnâ t
have been likely to use facilitie s where non-Protogen doctors and nurses
might wonder what was happening. Unnecessary risk.
All right.
They could have set up in one of the manufacturing plants down by the
port. There were plenty of places there that required all-waldo work. But
again, it would have been at the risk of being discovered or questioned
before the trap was ready to spring.
Itâs a drug hous e, Muss said in his mind. You want privacy , you want
contr ol. Extracti ng the bug from the dead girl and extracting the good shit
from the poppy seeds might have differ ent chemistry , but itâ s still crime.
âGood point,â Miller said. âAnd near the casino level⌠No, thatâs not
right. The casin o was the secon d stage. The first was the radiation scare.
They put a bunch of people in the radiation shelters and cooked them to get
the protomolecule good and happy , then they infected the casino level.â
The Grotto of Julie Mao
- Miller deduces that the protomolecule 'drug kitchen' was hidden in the backup environmental controls due to its isolation and emergency equipment.
- The station's environment has become increasingly corrosive and alien as the protomolecule consumes the infrastructure.
- Miller enters the facility to find the clean lines of human engineering being overtaken by organic, nautilus-like spirals and dark filaments.
- He finally discovers Julie Mao transformed into a central node of the infection, her body physically integrated into the station's new architecture.
The bone spurs that had been pressing out of her skin had grown into sweeping, almost architectural connections with the room around her, making her the center of a great, dark web of life and light and death. She was beautiful. She was a monster. She was the end of everything. She was Julie Mao, and she was waiting for him. He knelt beside her, and the blue lights swirled around them both like a benediction or a curse. He didn't know which, and he didn't care. He was home.
again, it would have been at the risk of being discovered or questioned
before the trap was ready to spring.
Itâs a drug hous e, Muss said in his mind. You want privacy , you want
contr ol. Extracti ng the bug from the dead girl and extracting the good shit
from the poppy seeds might have differ ent chemistry , but itâ s still crime.
âGood point,â Miller said. âAnd near the casino level⌠No, thatâs not
right. The casin o was the secon d stage. The first was the radiation scare.
They put a bunch of people in the radiation shelters and cooked them to get
the protomolecule good and happy , then they infected the casino level.â
So where would you put a drug kitchen that was close to the rad
shelters? Muss asked.
The roiling silver stream overhead veered left and then right, pouring
through the air. Tiny curls of metal began to rain down, drawing thin trails
of smoke behind them as they did.
âIf I had the access? The backup environment controls. Itâs an
emer gency facility . No foot traffic unless someoneâ s running inventory . Itâs
got all the equipment for isolation built in already . Wouldnâ t be hard.â
And since Protogen ran Eros security even befor e they put the
disposable thugs in place, theyâ d be able to arrange it, Muss said, and she
smiled joylessly . See? I knew you could think that thr ough.
For less than a second, Muss was gone and Julie Maoâhis Julieâwas
in her place. She was smiling and beautiful. Radiant. Her hair floated
around her as if she were swimming in zero g. And then she was gone. His
suit alarm warned him about an increasingly corrosive environment.
âHang tight,â he said to the burning air . âIâll be right there.â
It was just less than thirty-three hours from the moment heâd realized that
Juliette Androm eda Mao wasnâ t dead to the one when he cycle d down the
emer gency seals and pulled his cart into Erosâ backup environmental
control facility . The clean, simple lines and error -reducing design of the
place still showed under the outgrowth of the protomolecule. Barely . Knots
of dark filament and nautilus spirals softened the corners of wall and floor
and ceiling. Loops hung from the ceiling like Spanish moss. The familiar
LED lights still shone under the soft growth, but more illumin ation came
from the swarm of faint blue dots glowing in the air. His first step onto the
floor sank him into a thick carpet up the ankle; the bomb cart would have to
stay outside. His suit reported a wild mix of exotic gases and aromatic
molecules, but all he smelled was himself.
All the interior rooms had been remade. Transformed. He walked
through the wastewater treatment control areas like a scuba diver in a
grotto. The blue lights swirled around him as he passed, a few dozen
adhering to his suit and glitterin g there. He almost didnâ t brush them off the
helmetâ s faceplate, thinking they would smear like dead fireflies, but they
only swirled back up into the air. The air recycling monitors still danced
and glowed, the thousand alarms and incident reports silhouetting the
latticework of protomolecule that covered the screens. Water was flowing
somewhere close by .
She was in a hazmat analysis node, lying on a bed of the dark thread
that spilled out from her spine until it was indistinguishable from a massive
fairy-tale cushion of her own flowing hair . Tiny points of blue light glittered
on her face, her arms, her breasts. The bone spurs that had been pressing out
of her skin had grown into sweeping, almost architectural connections with
The Meeting on Eros
- Miller finally locates Julie Mao on Eros Station, finding her physically transformed and integrated into the alien protomolecule structure.
- Despite her non-human appearance and the architectural bone spurs connecting her to the station, Miller recognizes her as the woman he has been searching for.
- Julie reveals she is semi-conscious and believes she is racing home to Earth, unaware that the station's trajectory poses a planetary threat.
- Miller places the dead man's switch for his nuclear device in Julie's hand, entrusting her with the station's fate.
- In a final act of intimacy and resignation, Miller removes his helmet to breathe the alien atmosphere and sit beside her.
She reminded Miller of a mermaid who had traded her fins for a space station.
and glowed, the thousand alarms and incident reports silhouetting the
latticework of protomolecule that covered the screens. Water was flowing
somewhere close by .
She was in a hazmat analysis node, lying on a bed of the dark thread
that spilled out from her spine until it was indistinguishable from a massive
fairy-tale cushion of her own flowing hair . Tiny points of blue light glittered
on her face, her arms, her breasts. The bone spurs that had been pressing out
of her skin had grown into sweeping, almost architectural connections with
the lushn ess around her. Her legs were gone, lost in the tangle of dark alien
webs; she remin ded Miller of a mermaid who had traded her fins for a
space station. Her eyes were closed, but he could see them shifting and
dancing under the lids. And she was breathing.
Miller stood beside her. She didnâ t have quite the same face as his
imagined Julie. The real woman was wider through the jaw, and her nose
wasnâ t as straight as he remembered it. He didnâ t notice that he was
weeping until he tried to wipe the tears away , batting his helmet with a
gloved hand. He had to make do with blinking hard until his sight cleared.
All this time. All this way . And here was what heâd come for .
âJulie,â he said, putting his free hand on her shoulder . âHey . Julie.
Wake up. I need you to wake up now .â
He had his suitâs medical supplies. If he needed to, he could dose her
with adrenaline or amphetamine s. Instead, he rocked her gently , like he had
Candace on a sleepy Sunday morning, back when sheâd still been his wife,
back in some distant, near-forgotten lifetime. Julie frowned, opened her
mouth, closed it.
âJulie. Y ou need to wake up now .â
She moaned and lifted an inef fectual arm to push him away .
âCome back to me,â he said. âY ou need to come back now .â
Her eyes opened. They werenâ t human anymoreâthe sclera etched
with swirls of red and black, the iris the same luminous blue as the fireflies.
Not human, but still Julie. Her lips moved soundlessly . And then:
âWhere am I?â
âEros Station,â Miller said. âThe place isnât what it used to be. Not
even wher e it used to be, butâŚâ
He pressed the bed of filament with his hand, judging it, and then
rested his hip at her side like he was sitting on her bed. His body felt
achingly tired and also lighter than it should. Not like low gravity . The
unreal buoyancy had nothing to do with the weary flesh.
Julie tried to talk again, struggled, stopped, tried again.
âWho are you?â
âYeah, we havenâ t officially met, have we? My nameâ s Miller . I used
to be a detective for Star Helix Security back on Ceres. Your parents
contracted with us, only it was really more a friends-in-high-places thing. I
was supposed to track you down, grab you, ship you back down the well.â
âKidnap job?â she said. Her voice was stronger . Her gaze seemed
more focused.
âPretty standard,â Miller said, then sighed. âI kind of cocked it up,
though.â
Her eyes fluttered closed, but she kept talking.
âSomething happened to me.â
âYeah. It did.â
âIâm scared.â
âNo, no, no. Donât be scared. Itâs all right. In an ass-backward kind of
way, but itâs all right. Look, right now the whole station is heading back for
Earth. Really fast.â
âI dreamed I was racing. I was going home.â
âYeah, we need to stop that.â
Her eyes opened again. She looked lost, anguished, alone. A tear
streaked down from the corner of her eye, glowing blue.
âGive me your hand,â Miller said. âNo, really , I need you to hold
something for me.â
She lifted her hand slowly , seaweed in a soft current. He took his hand
terminal, settled it in her palm, pressed her thumb to the dead manâ s switch.
âJust hold that there. Donâ t let it up.â
âWhat is it?â she asked.
âLong story , just donâ t let up.â
His suit alarms shrieked at him when he undid his helmet seals. He
turned them off. The air was strange: acetate and cumin and a deep,
The Course to Venus
- Miller finds Julie Mao on Eros and convinces her to divert the asteroid's collision course away from Earth.
- The protomolecule begins to infect Miller as he removes his suit to comfort Julie and join her in the transformation.
- Miller appeals to Julie's identity as a fighter to resist the protomolecule's biological drive and choose Venus as their final destination.
- As the asteroid changes course, Miller accepts his fate and the beginning of his own physical transformation into the alien structure.
- The narrative shifts to Holden, who experiences a lucid dream of home while the catastrophic events on Eros reach their conclusion.
Right then, the protomolecule was latching on to him, burrowing into his skin and eyes, getting ready to do to him what it had done to everyone on Eros.
streaked down from the corner of her eye, glowing blue.
âGive me your hand,â Miller said. âNo, really , I need you to hold
something for me.â
She lifted her hand slowly , seaweed in a soft current. He took his hand
terminal, settled it in her palm, pressed her thumb to the dead manâ s switch.
âJust hold that there. Donâ t let it up.â
âWhat is it?â she asked.
âLong story , just donâ t let up.â
His suit alarms shrieked at him when he undid his helmet seals. He
turned them off. The air was strange: acetate and cumin and a deep,
powerful musk that made him think of hibernating animals. Julie watched
him as he stripped off his gloves. Right then, the protomolecule was
latching on to him, burrowing into his skin and eyes, getting ready to do to
him what it had done to everyon e on Eros. He didnâ t care. He took the hand
terminal back and then laced his fingers through hers.
âYouâre driving this bus, Julie,â he said. âDo you know that? I mean,
can you tell?â
Her fingers were cool in his, but not cold.
âI can feel⌠something,â she said. âIâm hungry? Not hungry , but⌠I
want something. I want to go back to Earth.â
âWe canât do that. I need you to change course,â Miller replied. What
had Holden said? Give her V enus. âHead for V enus instead.â
âThatâ s not what it wants,â she said.
âItâs what weâve got on offer,â Miller said. Then, a moment later: âWe
canât go home. W e need to go to V enus.â
She was quiet for a long moment.
âYouâre a fighter , Julie. Youâve never let anyone call your shots for
you. Donâ t start now . If we go to Earthââ
âItâll eat them too. The same way it ate me.â
âYeah.â
She looked up at him.
âYeah,â he said again. âLike that.â
âWhat happens on V enus?â
âWe die maybe. I donât know . But we donât take a lot of peop le with
us, and we make sure no one gets a hold of this crap,â he said, gesturing at
the grotto around them. âAnd if we donât die, then⌠well, thatâll be
interesting.â
âI donâ t think I can.â
âYou can. The thing thatâs doing all this? Youâre smarter than it is.
Youâre in control. T ake us to V enus.â
The fireflies swirled around them, the blue light pulsing slightly: bright
and dim, bright and dim. Miller saw it in her face when she made the
decision. All around them, the lights went bright, the grotto flooding in soft
blue, and then dimmed back to where they had been before. Miller felt
something catch at the back of his neck like the first warning of a sore
throat. He wondered if heâd have time to deactivate the bomb. And then he
looked at Julie. Juliette Andromeda Mao. OPA pilot. Heir to the Mao-
Kwikowski corporate throne. The seed crystal of a future beyo nd anything
heâd ever dreamed. Heâd have plenty of time.
âIâm afraid,â she said.
âDonâ t be,â he said.
âI donâ t know whatâ s going to happen,â she said.
âNo one ever does. And, look, you donât have to do this alone,â he
said.
âI can feel something in the back of my mind. It wants something I
donât understand. Itâ s so big.â
Reflexively , he kissed the back of her hand. There was an ache starting
deep in his belly . A sense of illness. A momentâ s nausea. The first pangs of
his transformation into Eros.
âDonâ t worry ,â he said. âW eâre gonna be fine.â
Chapter Fifty-Five
Holden
Holden dreamed.
Heâd been a lucid dreamer most of his life, so when he found himself
sitting in his parentsâ kitchen in the old house in Montana, talking to
Naomi, he knew . He couldnâ t quite understand what she was saying, but she
kept pushing her hair out of her eyes as she munched cookies and drank tea.
And while he found that he wasnâ t ever able to pick a cookie up and take a
bite out of it, he could smell them, and the memory of Mother Eliseâ s
chocolate chip oatmeal cookies was a very good one.
It was a good dream.
The kitchen strobed red once, and something changed. Holden felt the
From Nightmares to Betrayal
- Holden experiences a vivid, lucid dream of his childhood home that descends into a horrific nightmare of Eros crashing into Earth.
- Upon waking, Holden realizes he fell asleep on watch during a critical period following the high-g chase of Eros.
- The Rocinante is targeted by the Ravi, a ship Holden previously considered an ally in their mission.
- Captain McBride informs Holden that UNN Command has ordered the seizure of his vessel and his arrest for multiple crimes.
The kitchen strobed red once, and something changed. Holden felt the wrongness of it, felt the dream slipping from warm memory into nightmare.
Holden dreamed.
Heâd been a lucid dreamer most of his life, so when he found himself
sitting in his parentsâ kitchen in the old house in Montana, talking to
Naomi, he knew . He couldnâ t quite understand what she was saying, but she
kept pushing her hair out of her eyes as she munched cookies and drank tea.
And while he found that he wasnâ t ever able to pick a cookie up and take a
bite out of it, he could smell them, and the memory of Mother Eliseâ s
chocolate chip oatmeal cookies was a very good one.
It was a good dream.
The kitchen strobed red once, and something changed. Holden felt the
wrongness of it, felt the dream slipping from warm memory into nightmare.
He tried to say something to Naomi but couldnâ t form the words. The room
strobed red again, but she didnâ t seem to notice. He got up and went to the
kitchen window and looked out. When the room strobed a third time, he
saw what was causing it. Meteors were falling out of the sky, leaving
behind them fiery trails the color of blood. He somehow knew they were
chunks of Eros as it crashed through the atmosphere. Miller had failed. The
nuclear attack had failed.
Julie had come home.
He turne d aroun d to tell Naom i to run, but black tendrils had burst
through the floor and wrapped her up, pierced her body in multiple places.
They poured from her mouth and eyes.
Holden tried to run to her, to help her, but he couldnâ t move, and when
he looked down, he saw that the tendrils had come up and grabb ed him too.
One wrapped around his waist and held him. Another pressed into his
mouth.
He woke with a yell in a dark room that was strobing with red light.
Something was holding him around the waist. In a panic he began clawing
at it, threatenin g to tear a fingernail loose on his left hand, before his
rational mind reminded him where he was. On the ops deck, in his chair ,
belted down in zero g.
He popp ed his finger into his mouth, trying to soothe the abused
fingertip heâd damaged on one of the chair buckles, and took a few deep
breaths through his nose. The deck was empty . Naomi was asleep down in
her cabin. Alex and Amos were off duty and presumably sleeping too.
Theyâd spent almost two days without rest during the high-g chase of Eros.
Holden had ordered everyone to get some shut-eye and had volunteered to
take first watch.
And then had promptly fallen asleep. Not good.
The room flashed red again. Holden shook his head to clear the last of
the sleep away , and refocused his attention on his console. A red warning
light pulsed, and he tapped the screen to open up the menu. It was his threat
panel. Someone was hitting them with a tar geting laser .
He opened up the threat display and turned on the active senso rs. The
only ship within millions of kilometers was the Ravi, and it was the ship
that was targetin g them. According to the automatic logs, it had just started
a few seconds earlier .
He reached out to activate the comm and call the Ravi as his incoming-
message light flickered on. He opened the connection, and a second later,
McBrideâ s voice said, âRocinante, cease maneuve ring, open your outer
airlock door , and prepare to be boarded.â
Holden frowned at his console. W as that a weird joke?
âMcBride, this is Holden. Uh, what?â
Her reply was in a clipped tone that was not encouraging.
âHolden, open your outer airloc k and prepare for boarding. If I see a
single defensive system wake up, I will fire on your ship. Is that
understood?â
âNo,â he said, not quite able to keep the annoyance out of his voice.
âItâs not understood. And Iâm not going to let you board me. What the hell
is going on?â
âIâve been ordered by UNN Command to take control of your vessel.
Youâre charged with interfering with UNN military operations, unlawfully
commandeering UNN military assets, and a list of other crimes Iâm not
going to bother reading right now. If you do not surrender immediately , we
will be forced to fire on you.â
Standoff Over the Nukes
- The UNN ship Ravi confronts Holden, demanding he surrender control of his vessel and return thousands of hijacked thermonuclear missiles.
- Captain McBride accuses Holden of treason for handing over military assets to Fred Johnson, whom the UNN views as a war criminal.
- Holden refuses to comply or be boarded, leading to a high-tension standoff where both ships prepare for potential combat.
- Despite the threat of immediate destruction, Holden attempts to negotiate by explaining the missiles are merely on a 'detour' and that fighting is unnecessary.
- The crew of the Rocinante goes to battle stations, prioritizing defensive measures and reactor power while trying to avoid provocative maneuvers.
McBrideâs laugh sounded more like the sharp bark of an angry dog just before it bit.
Her reply was in a clipped tone that was not encouraging.
âHolden, open your outer airloc k and prepare for boarding. If I see a
single defensive system wake up, I will fire on your ship. Is that
understood?â
âNo,â he said, not quite able to keep the annoyance out of his voice.
âItâs not understood. And Iâm not going to let you board me. What the hell
is going on?â
âIâve been ordered by UNN Command to take control of your vessel.
Youâre charged with interfering with UNN military operations, unlawfully
commandeering UNN military assets, and a list of other crimes Iâm not
going to bother reading right now. If you do not surrender immediately , we
will be forced to fire on you.â
âOh,â said Holden. The UNN had discovered that their missiles were
changing course , had attempted to reprogram them, and had discovered that
the missiles werenâ t listening.
They were upset.
âMcBride,â Holden said after a moment. âBoarding us wonâ t do any
good. We canât give you those missiles back. And itâs unnecessary , anyway .
Theyâre just taking a little detour .â
McBrideâ s laugh sounded more like the sharp bark of an angry dog just
before it bit.
âDetour?â she said. âYou hand ed three thousand five hundred and
seventy-three high-yield thermonuclear interplanetary ballistic missiles over
to a traitor and accused war criminal!â
It took Holden a minute.
âYou mean Fred? I think traitor is a bit harshââ
McBride cut in.
âDeactivate the false transponders leading our missiles away from
Eros, and reactivate the transponders on the surface, or we will fire on your
ship. Y ou have ten minutes to comply .â
The connection dropped with a click. Holden looked at the console
with something between disbelief and outrage, then shrugged and hit the
battle stations alarm. Deck lights came on all over the ship in an angry red.
The warning Klaxon sounded three times. In less than two minutes, Alex
rushed up the ladder to the cockpit, and half a minute behind him, Naomi
threw herself into her ops station.
Alex spoke first.
âThe Ravi is four hundred kilometers away ,â he said. âLadar says her
tube is open, and sheâ s got us locked.â
Clearly enunciating his words, Holden said, âDo notâI repeat, do not
âopen our tubes or attempt to get a target lock on the Ravi at this time. Just
keep a close eye on her, and prepare to go defensive if she looks like sheâs
firing. Letâ s not do anything to provoke her .â
âShall I begin jamming?â Naomi said from behind him.
âNo, that would look aggressive. But prep a countermeasures package
and have your finger on the ready button,â Holden said. âAmos, you in
engineering?â
âRoger that, Cap. Ready to go down here.â
âBring the react or up to one hundred percent and pull control of the
point defense cannons to your console down there. If they shoot at us at this
range, Alex wonâ t have time to fly and shoot back. You see a red dot on the
threat console, you open up with the PDCs immediately . Copy?â
âRoger that,â Amos said.
Holden blew a long breath through his teeth, then opened the channel
to the Ravi again.
âMcBride, this is Holden. We are not surrendering, we are not going to
let you board us, and we arenâ t going to comply with your dema nds. Where
do we go from here?â
âHolden,â McBride said. âYour reactor is coming up. Are you getting
ready to fight with us?â
âNo, just getting ready to try and survive. Why , are we fighting?â
Another short harsh laugh.
âHolden,â McB ride said. âWhy do I get the feeling you arenâ t taking
this seriously?â
âOh, I absolutely am,â Holden replied. âI donât want you to kill me,
and believe it or not, I have no desire to kill you. The nukes are on a little
detour , but this isnât something we need to go down in flames over. I canât
give you what you want, and Iâm not interested in spending the next thirty
years in a milita ry prison. You gain nothing by shooting us, and I will fight
back if it comes to that.â
Standoff in the Void
- Captain Holden attempts to de-escalate a tense confrontation with the Ravi, refusing to fire first despite the threat of an attack.
- The Rocinante engages in high-G defensive maneuvers and electronic countermeasures to evade the Ravi's targeting systems and PDC fire.
- Despite having a clear firing solution on the enemy ship, Holden orders his crew to hold fire to avoid a lethal escalation.
- The tactical situation shifts abruptly when the asteroid Eros suddenly reappears on radar after being previously invisible to sensors.
- Eros is observed performing impossible maneuvers, changing its course and defying conventional physics.
Holden checked his threat display and saw the long glowing pearl strands of incoming rounds displayed there.
âNo, just getting ready to try and survive. Why , are we fighting?â
Another short harsh laugh.
âHolden,â McB ride said. âWhy do I get the feeling you arenâ t taking
this seriously?â
âOh, I absolutely am,â Holden replied. âI donât want you to kill me,
and believe it or not, I have no desire to kill you. The nukes are on a little
detour , but this isnât something we need to go down in flames over. I canât
give you what you want, and Iâm not interested in spending the next thirty
years in a milita ry prison. You gain nothing by shooting us, and I will fight
back if it comes to that.â
McBride cut the channel.
âCaptain,â Alex said. âThe Ravi is startin â to maneuver . Sheâs spraying
clutter . I think sheâ s gettinâ ready to make an attack run.â
Shit. Holden had been so sure he could talk her out of it.
âOkay , go defensive. Naomi, start your countermeasures. Amos? Got
your finger on that button?â
âReady ,â Amos replied.
âDonâ t hit it until you see a missile launch. Donâ t want to force their
hand.â
Sudden crushing gâs hit Holden , stuffing him into his chair . Alex had
started maneuvering.
âAt this distance , maybe I can out-turn her. Keep her from beinâ able
to take a shot,â the pilot said.
âDo it, and open the tubes.â
âRoger ,â Alex said, his professional pilotâ s calm not quite able to keep
the excitement about a possible battle out of his voice.
âIâve broken the targeting lock, â Naomi said. âTheir laser array is not
nearly as good as the Rociâs. Iâm just drowning it in clutter .â
âHooray for bloated Martian defense budgets,â Holden replied.
The ship jerked suddenly through a series of wild maneuvers.
âDamn,â Alex said, his voice strained by the g-force of the sharp turns.
âThe Ravi just opened up on us with her PDCs.â
Holden checked his threat display and saw the long glowing pearl
strands of incoming rounds displayed there. The shots were falling well
behind them. The Roci reported the distance between the ships as 370
kilometersâpretty long range for computer tar geting systems to hit a wildly
maneuvering ship with a ballistic shot from another wildly maneuvering
ship.
âReturn fire?â Amos yelled into the comm.
âNo!â Holden yelled back. âIf she wanted us dead, sheâd be throwing
torpedoes. Donâ t give her a reason to want us dead.â
âCap, weâre out-turninâ her ,â Alex said. âThe Rociâs just too fast. W eâll
have a firing solution in less than a minute.â
âRoger ,â Holden said.
âDo I take the shot?â Alex asked, his silly Martian cowboy accent
fading as his tension rose.
âNo.â
âTheir tar geting laser just shut of f,â Naomi said.
âWhich means theyâve given up trying to cut our jamming,â Holden
replied, âand have just switched their missiles over to radar tracking.â
âNot as accurate,â Naomi said hopefully .
âA corvette like that carries at least a dozen fish. They only need to hit
us with one to make us dead. And at this rangeâŚâ
A gentle sound came from his threat console, letting him know that the
Roci had calculated a firing solution to the Ravi.
âIâve got tone!â Alex yelled. âFire?â
âNo!â Holden said. He knew that inside the Ravi, they were getting the
loud warning buzz of an enemy lock. Stop, Holden willed them. Please
donât make me kill you.
âUh,â Alex said in a low voice. âHuh.â
Behind Holden, at almost the same moment, Naomi said, âJim?â
Before he could ask, Alex came back on the general comm.
âHey , Captain, Eros just came back.â
âWhat?â Holden said, a brief image of the asteroid sneaking up like a
cartoon villain on the two circling warships popping into his head.
âYeah,â Alex said. âEros. It just popped back up on radar . Whatever it
was doing to block our sensors, it just stopped doing it.â
âWhatâ s it doing?â Holden said. âGet me a course.â
Naomi pulled the tracking information to her console and began
working on it, but Alex was done a few seconds sooner .
âYeah,â he said. âGood guess . Itâs changing course. Still heading
The Descent of Eros
- Eros suddenly reappears on radar, altering its course away from Earth and toward Venus.
- The crew of the Rocinante realizes that their intervention has effectively disarmed Earth's nuclear arsenal, leaving the planet vulnerable.
- The entire solar system watches as Eros enters Venus's orbit and disintegrates into a fractal seed cloud that descends into the planet's atmosphere.
- While the immediate threat to humanity is averted, Holden remains wary that the protomolecule's arrival on Venus is merely the start of a larger, unknown plan.
The giant asteroid split into a dozen chunks, stringing out around the equator of the planet in a long necklace.
âWhat?â Holden said, a brief image of the asteroid sneaking up like a
cartoon villain on the two circling warships popping into his head.
âYeah,â Alex said. âEros. It just popped back up on radar . Whatever it
was doing to block our sensors, it just stopped doing it.â
âWhatâ s it doing?â Holden said. âGet me a course.â
Naomi pulled the tracking information to her console and began
working on it, but Alex was done a few seconds sooner .
âYeah,â he said. âGood guess . Itâs changing course. Still heading
sunward, but deflecting away from the Earth vector it was on.â
âIf it keeps this course and speed,â Naomi chimed in, âIâd say it was
heading toward V enus.â
âWow,â said Holden. âThat was a joke.â
âGood joke,â Naomi said.
âWell, someone tell McBride she doesnâ t need to shoot us now .â
âHey ,â Alex said, his voice thoughtful. âIf we made those nukes stop
listening, that means we canât shut âem down, right? Wonder where Fredâ s
going to drop those.â
âHell if I know ,â Amos said. âJust disarmed Earth, though. Thatâ s
gotta be fucking embarrassing.â
âUnintended consequences,â Naomi sighed. âAlways with the
unintended consequences.â
Eros crashing into Venus was the most widely broadcast and recorded event
in history . By the time the astero id reached the sunâs second planet, several
hundred ships had taken up orbits there. Military vessels tried to keep the
civilian ships away , but it was no use. They were just outnumbered. The
video of Erosâ descent was captured by military gun cameras, civilian ship
telescopes, and the observatories on two planets and five moons.
Holden wished he could have been there to see it up close, but Eros
had picked up speed after it had turned, almost as though the asteroid were
impatient for the journey to end now that the destination was in sight. He
and the crew sat in the galley of the Rocinante and watched it on the
broadcast newsfeeds. Amos had dug up yet another bottle of faux tequila
from somewhere and was liberally splashing it into coffee cups. Alex had
them flying toward T ycho at a gentle one-third g. No need to hurry now .
It was all over but the fireworks.
Holden reached out, took Naomiâ s hand, and held it tightly as the
asteroid entered Venus orbit and then seemed to stop. He felt like he could
feel the entire human race holding their breath. No one knew what Erosâ
no, what Julie âwould do now. No one had spoken to Miller after the last
time Holden had, and he wasnâ t answering his hand terminal. No one knew
for sure what had happened on the asteroid.
When the end came, it was beautiful.
In orbit around Venus, Eros came apart like a puzzle box. The giant
asteroid split into a dozen chunks, stringing out around the equator of the
planet in a long necklace. Then those dozen pieces split into a dozen more,
and then a dozen after that, a glittering fractal seed cloud spreading out
across the entire surface of the planet, disappearing into the thick cloud
layer that usually hid V enus from view .
âWow,â Amos said, his voice almost reverent.
âThat was gor geous,â Naomi said. âV aguely unsettling, but gor geous.â
âThey wonâ t stay there forever ,â Holden said.
Alex tossed off the last of the tequila in his glass, then refilled it from
the bottle.
âWhat dâya mean, Cap?â he asked.
âWell, Iâm just guessing. But I doubt the things that built the
protomolecule just wanted to store it here. This was part of a bigger plan.
We saved the Earth, Mars, the Belt. Question is, what happens now?â
Naomi and Alex exchanged glances. Amos pursed his lips. On-screen,
Venus glittered as arcs of lightning danced all across the planet.
âCap,â Amos said. âY ou are seriously harshing my buzz.â
Epilogue
Fred
Frederick Luciu s Johnson. Former colonel in Earthâ s armed forces, Butcher
of Anderson Station. Thoth Station now too. Unelected prime minister of
the OPA. He had faced his own mortality a dozen times, lost friends to
The Burden of Peace
- Fred Johnson, the OPA leader and former Earth colonel, prepares for a high-stakes diplomatic presentation on Ceres despite his persistent stage fright.
- The political landscape remains volatile as the rift between Earth and Mars appears irreparable following the Protogen betrayal and heavy casualties.
- Fred recognizes that the Belt must find a way to broker a lasting peace between the two planetary powers to prevent an inevitable and devastating return to war.
- While political factions bicker over old grievances, the protomolecule on Venus shows signs of renewed activity, indicating the threat is far from over.
Unless all three forcesâEarth, Mars, and the Beltâcould reach a real peace, they would inevitably fall back into a real war.
protomolecule just wanted to store it here. This was part of a bigger plan.
We saved the Earth, Mars, the Belt. Question is, what happens now?â
Naomi and Alex exchanged glances. Amos pursed his lips. On-screen,
Venus glittered as arcs of lightning danced all across the planet.
âCap,â Amos said. âY ou are seriously harshing my buzz.â
Epilogue
Fred
Frederick Luciu s Johnson. Former colonel in Earthâ s armed forces, Butcher
of Anderson Station. Thoth Station now too. Unelected prime minister of
the OPA. He had faced his own mortality a dozen times, lost friends to
violence and politics and betrayal. Heâd lived through four assassination
attempts, only two of which were on any record. Heâd killed a pistol-
wielding attacker using only a table knife. Heâd given the orders that had
ended hundreds of lives, and stood by his decisions.
And yet public speaking still made him nervous as hell. It didnâ t make
sense, but there it was.
Ladies and gentlemen, we stand at a cr ossroadsâ
âGeneral Sebastian will be at the reception,â his personal secretary
said. âRemember not to ask after her husband.â
âWhy? I didnâ t kill him, did I?â
âNo, sir . Heâ s having a very public af fair, and the generalâ s a bit touchy
about it.â
âSo she might want me to kill him.â
âYou can make the of fer, sir.â
The âgreenroomâ was actually done in red and ochre, with a black
leather couch, a mirrored wall, and a table laid out with hydroponic
strawberries and carefully mineralized drinking water . The head of Ceres
security , a dour-faced woman named Shaddid, had escorted him from the
dock to the conference facilities three hours earlier . Since then, heâd been
pacingâthree steps in one direction, turn, three steps backâlike the
captain of an ancient ship of the line on his quarterdeck.
Elsewhere in the station, the representatives of the formerly warring
factions were in rooms of their own, with secretaries of their own. Most of
them hated Fred, which wasnâ t particularly a problem. Most of them feared
him too. Not because of his standing in the OPA, of course. Because of the
protomolecule.
The political rift between Earth and Mars was probably irreparable; the
Earth forces loyal to Protogen had engineered a betrayal too deep for
apologies, and too many lives had been lost on both sides for the coming
peace to look anything like it had been before. The naive among the OPA
thought this was a good thing: an opportunity to play one plane t against the
other . Fred knew better . Unless all three forcesâEarth, Mars, and the Belt
âcould reach a real peace, they would inevitably fall back into a real war .
Now if only Earth or Mars thought of the Belt as something more than
an annoyance to be squashed after their true enemy was humiliated⌠But
in truth, anti-M ars sentiment on Earth was higher now than it had been
during the shooting war , and Martian elections were only four months away .
A signif icant shift in the Marti an polity could ease the tensio ns or make
things immeasurably worse. Both sides had to see the big picture.
Fred stopped before a mirror , adjusted his tunic for the hundredth time,
and grimaced.
âWhen did I turn into a damned marriage counselor?â he said.
âWe arenâ t still talking about General Sebastian, are we, sir?â
âNo. For get I said anything. What else do I need to know?â
âThereâ s a possibility that Blue Mars will try to disrup t your
presentation. Hecklers and signs, not guns. Captain Shaddid has several
Blues in custody , but some may have slipped past her .â
âAll right.â
âYou have interviews scheduled with two political narrowcasts and a
news source based on Europa. The Europa interviewer is likely to ask about
Anderson Station.â
âAll right. Anything new from V enus?â
âSomethingâ s happening down there,â his secretary said.
âItâs not dead, then.â
âApparently not, sir .â
The Aftermath of Venus
- Fred Johnson prepares for a high-stakes political presentation while facing potential disruption from the Blue Mars faction.
- Mysterious activity continues on Venus, where massive crystal towers have begun to emerge from the planet's surface.
- Holden and Fred discuss the legal and political fallout of Holden's decision to broadcast the protomolecule's discovery to the entire system.
- Despite their victory over Protogen, Holden remains burdened by the loss of Miller and the uncertain legal status of the Rocinante.
- Fred leverages his possession of a live protomolecule sample as his primary source of power and leverage against Earth and Mars.
And on the other, thereâs the bogeyman of Venus, getting ready to crawl up out of its well and slaughter you all in your sleep.
âNo. For get I said anything. What else do I need to know?â
âThereâ s a possibility that Blue Mars will try to disrup t your
presentation. Hecklers and signs, not guns. Captain Shaddid has several
Blues in custody , but some may have slipped past her .â
âAll right.â
âYou have interviews scheduled with two political narrowcasts and a
news source based on Europa. The Europa interviewer is likely to ask about
Anderson Station.â
âAll right. Anything new from V enus?â
âSomethingâ s happening down there,â his secretary said.
âItâs not dead, then.â
âApparently not, sir .â
âGreat,â he said bitterly .
Ladies and gentlemen, we stand at a crossroads. On one hand there is
the very r eal thr eat of mutual annihilation, and on the otherâ
And on the other , thereâs the bogeyman of Venus, getting ready to crawl
up out of its well and slaughter you all in your sleep. I have the live sample,
which is your best, if not only, hope of divining what its intentions and
capabilities are, and which I have hidden so that you canât just march over
and take it from me. Itâs the only reason any of you are listening to me in the
first place. So how about a little r espect her e?
His secretaryâ s terminal chirped, and she consulted it briefly .
âItâs Captain Holden, sir .â
âDo I have to?â
âIt would be best if he felt he was part of the effort, sir. He has a track
record of amateur press releases.â
âFine. Bring him in.â
The weeks that had passed since Eros Station had come apart in the
thick skies of Venus had been good to Holden, but prolonged high-g dives
like the one the Rocinante had sustained chasing Eros had long-lasting
effects. The burst blood vessels in the manâ s sclera had healed; the pressure
bruising was gone from around his eyes and the back of his neck. Only a
little hesitation in the way he walked spoke of the deep joint pain, cartilage
still on its way back to its natura l form. Acceleration swagger , theyâd called
it, back when Fred had been a dif ferent man.
âHey ,â Holden said. âYouâre looking pretty . Did you see the latest feed
from Venus? Two-kilometer -high crystal towers. What do you think that
is?â
âYour fault?â Fred suggested, keeping the tone friendly . âYou could
have told Miller to drive it into the sun.â
âYes, because two-kilometer -high crystal towers coming out of the sun
wouldnâ t be creepy at all,â Holden said. âAre those strawberries?â
âHave some,â Fred said. He hadnât been able to eat anything since that
morning.
âSo,â Holden said around a mouthful of fruit, âare they really going to
sue me over this?â
âUnilaterally giving away all mineral and development rights to an
entire planet on an open radio channel?â
âYeah,â Holden said.
âI would guess the people who actually owned those rights are
probably going to sue you,â Fred said. âIf they ever figure out who they
are.â
âCould you give me a hand with that?â Holden asked.
âIâll be a chara cter witness,â Fred said. âI donât actually make the
law.â
âThen what exactly are you all doing here? Couldnâ t there be some
kind of amnesty ? We retrieved the protomolecule, tracked down Julie Mao
on Eros, broke Protogen, and saved Earth.â
âYou saved Earth?â
âWe helped,â Holden said, but his voice had a more somber tone.
Miller âs death still bothered the captain. Fred knew how that felt. âIt was a
joint ef fort.â
Fredâ s personal secretary cleare d her throat and glanced toward the
door. Theyâd need to go soon.
âIâll do what I can,â Fred said. âIâve got a lot of other things on the
plate, but Iâll do what I can.â
âAnd Mars canât have the Roci back,â Holden said. âRight of salvage
says thatâ s my ship now .â
âThey arenâ t going to see it that way , but I will do what I can.â
âYou keep saying that.â
âIt keeps being all I can do.â
âAnd youâll tell them about him, right?â Holden said. âMiller . He
deserves the credit.â
The Utility of Icons
- Holden insists that Fred Johnson recognize Miller by his full name and individual identity rather than as a generic Belter hero.
- Fred Johnson argues that political movements require symbols and icons rather than complex, flawed individuals to achieve their goals.
- The conversation highlights the dehumanization inherent in large-scale conflicts, where people are treated as biomass or tools rather than names.
- Fred prepares to address a peace conference between Earth and Mars on Ceres, a location historically dismissed by both superpowers.
- Despite their disagreement on Miller's legacy, Holden and Fred share a moment of grim humor regarding the detective's cynical personality.
Millerâs sacrifice is a tool, and Iâm going to use it.
Fredâ s personal secretary cleare d her throat and glanced toward the
door. Theyâd need to go soon.
âIâll do what I can,â Fred said. âIâve got a lot of other things on the
plate, but Iâll do what I can.â
âAnd Mars canât have the Roci back,â Holden said. âRight of salvage
says thatâ s my ship now .â
âThey arenâ t going to see it that way , but I will do what I can.â
âYou keep saying that.â
âIt keeps being all I can do.â
âAnd youâll tell them about him, right?â Holden said. âMiller . He
deserves the credit.â
âThe Belter who went back into Eros of his own free will in order to
save Earth? Y ouâre damn right Iâm going to tell them about him.â
âNot âthe Belter .â Him. Josephus Aloisus Miller .â
Holden had stopped eating the free strawberries. Fred crossed his
arms.
âYouâve been reading up,â Fred said.
âYeah. W ell. I didnâ t know him all that well.â
âNeither did anybody else,â Fred said, and then softened a little. âI
know itâs hard, but we donât need a real man with a complex life. We need a
symbol of the Belt. An icon.â
âSir,â the secretary said. âW e really do need to go now .â
âThatâ s what got us here,â Holden said. âIcons. Symbols. People
without names. All of those Protogen scientists were thinking about
biomass and populations. Not Mary who worked in supply and raised
flowers in her spare time. None of them killed her.â
âYou think they wouldnâ t have?â
âI think if they were going to, they owed it to her to know her name.
All their names. And you owe it to Miller not to make him into something
he wasnâ t.â
Fred laughed. He couldnâ t help it.
âCaptain,â he said, âif youâre saying that I should amend my address
to the peace conference so that it wasnâ t a noble Belter sacrific ing himself
to save the Earthâif youâre suggesting that I say somethin g like âWe
happened to have a suicidal ex-cop on-siteâ insteadâyou understand this
process less than I thought you did. Miller âs sacrifice is a tool, and Iâm
going to use it.â
âEven if it makes him faceless,â Holden said. âEven if it makes him
something he never was?â
âEspecially if it makes him something he never was,â Fred said. âDo
you remember what he was like?â
Holden frowned and then something flickered in his eyes. Amus ement.
Memory .
âHe was kind of a pain in the ass, wasnâ t he?â Holden said.
âThat man could take a visitati on from God with thirty underd ressed
angels announcing that sex was okay after all and make it seem vaguely
depressing.â
âHe was a good man,â Holden said.
âHe wasnât,â Fred said. âBut he did his job. And now Iâve got to go do
mine.â
âGive âem hell,â Holden said. âAnd amnesty . Keep talking up the
amnesty .â
Fred walked down the curving hallway , his secretary close behind him.
The conference halls had been designed for smaller things. Petty ones.
Hydroponics scientists getting away from their husbands and wives and
children to get drunk and talk about raising bean sprouts. Miners coming
together to lecture each other about waste minimization and tailings
disposal. High school band competitions. And instead, these work carpets
and brushed-stone walls were going to have to bear the fulcrum of history .
It was Holdenâ s fault that the shabby , small surroundings reminded him of
the dead detective. They hadnâ t before.
The delegations were seated across the aisle from each other . The
generals and political appointees and general secretaries of Earth and Mars,
the two great powers together at his invitation to Ceres, to the Belt.
Territory made neutral because neither side took it seriously enough to be
The Fulcrum of History
- Fred Johnson prepares to address the delegations of Earth and Mars on Ceres, a neutral territory in the Belt.
- The mundane surroundings of the meeting hall contrast sharply with the historical weight of the diplomatic summit.
- Fred reflects on his role as a symbol and icon rather than a man, acknowledging the narrative power he must wield.
- He briefly considers a more human, vulnerable approach to peace but rejects it as a noble way to fail.
- The speech begins by framing the solar system's future as a choice between mutual annihilation and the stars.
In that hesitation between drawing breath and speaking, part of him wondered what would happen if he shed the patterns of history and spoke about himself as a man.
disposal. High school band competitions. And instead, these work carpets
and brushed-stone walls were going to have to bear the fulcrum of history .
It was Holdenâ s fault that the shabby , small surroundings reminded him of
the dead detective. They hadnâ t before.
The delegations were seated across the aisle from each other . The
generals and political appointees and general secretaries of Earth and Mars,
the two great powers together at his invitation to Ceres, to the Belt.
Territory made neutral because neither side took it seriously enough to be
concerned about their demands.
All of history had brought them here, to this moment, and now, in the
next few minute s, Fredâ s job was to change that trajectory . The fear was
gone. Smiling, he stepped up to the speaker âs dais, the podium.
The pulpit.
There was a scattering of polite applause. A few smiles, and a few
frowns. Fred grinned. He wasnâ t a man anymore. He was a symb ol, an icon.
A narrative about himself and about the forces at play in the solar system.
And for a mome nt, he was tempted. In that hesitation between drawing
breath and speaking, part of him wondered what would happen if he shed
the patterns of history and spoke about himself as a man, about the Joe
Miller who heâd known briefly , about the responsibility they all shared to
tear down the images they held of one another and find the genu ine, flawed,
conflicted people they actually were.
It would have been a noble way to fail.
âLadies and gentlemen,â he said. âWe stand at a crossroads. On one
hand, there is the very real threat of mutual annihilation. On the otherâŚâ
He paused for ef fect.
âOn the other , the stars.â