The Lethal Agent (The Extraction Files Book 2) (22 page)

CPI-RQ-01

SEPTEMBER 12, 2232

Dasia lay across Osip’s bed as he searched through the matrix, looking for the pattern Mable had suggested. At the bottom of the screen, Mable’s chart sat miniaturized, waiting for Osip to add his notes or form a new connection.

It was slow, mind-numbing work. They had to take turns.

Thankfully, it was Osip’s turn to sift through the files. Dasia lay like a starfish on his sheets, the comforter piled somewhere on the floor. He wasn’t one for making the bed.

“Okay, question D,” Osip said without turning.

“Shoot.”

“This one is a Craftsman, that’s what you were right?”

“Yeah, so?”

“Okay, so Craftsmans are—”

“Crafts
men
,” she corrected.

“Yeah, those guys. They’re, like, the bottom right?”

Dasia propped herself up on her elbows. “They’re the foundation, supposedly. Like Artisans and Scholars are specialized, they preserve the human experience and all that. Why?”

“Well, most of these are Scholars. Like ninety percent. Then there are a few Crafts
men
,” he said with intended emphasis. “But there are no Artisans. Zero. If they’re so important like Scholars, how come bugs don’t infect them?”

“Maybe whoever sends them is really into art?” Dasia suggested. She didn’t really have a good answer.

“Okay, so, we’re looking for a sinister bad guy with an army of brain-eating bugs who hates science and sometimes foundation-people but really, really loves art?” Osip turned and cocked his mischievous smile at her.

Dasia couldn’t help but laugh at him. “Something like that. And who knows, maybe it’s a bad
girl
.” She wiggled her eyebrows at him.

“I would say this is a ridiculous theory, but there really are a lot of connections.” He pulled up the chart.

Dasia rolled onto her side and propped her cheek on her fist. “You got a lot done already.” There were two-dozen new additions glowing light green.

“That’s extra impressive considering you were here distracting me the whole time.”

“What? I did no such thing!”

“Uh, look at you. Even with that blonde mess on your head, you can’t help but be anything except distracting. It’s really quite the gift,” he teased.

“If I had a vale for every time you told me how you hate my hair—”

“Then you’d have one more. And I don’t hate it. I just liked you the way you were.”

Dasia thought back to how she’d been before—sad, always crying. Her thoughts were distracted by the simultaneous meep-meep-meep from their tablets.

Osip saw it first. “Dr. A.” He reached a hand out to help her off the bed. “Guy sure knows how to ruin a moment.” Osip laughed and shook his head.

“Were we having a moment?” Dasia asked with a nonchalance she didn’t feel. She flipped her new, longer hair over her shoulder, put her hand into his, and slid off the bed.

Osip pulled her along and down the hall as she pretended she didn’t want to go with him. At the elevator, he spun her against his side as they waited to arrive one floor up.

They were both surprised to see Georgie already sitting on the couch in Dr. Arrenstein’s office. Jane stood by the door staring at her feet. She looked up at them as they entered and sat beside Georgie.

“Thanks for coming, you two,” Dr. Arrenstein started. He smoothed a hand over his suit jacket.

Dasia felt her nerves rise up. Bad news was coming.

“I’ve asked you here because we’ll be reassigning the teams. Osip, you’ll work with Georgie, and Dasia, you’ll be with Jane. These changes are effective immediately and are non-negotiable.” He looked at his hands in his lap as he spoke.

“But—” Osip started.

Dr. Arrenstein looked up at him. “
Non
-negotiable.”

“Anything else, Dr. A?” Osip asked, trying to sound like it didn’t bother him.

“You’re free to go. Head downstairs and get started. Dasia, can I have a word?”

Jane darted out the door before he’d even finished his sentence. Georgie trudged behind her.

Osip sat with his hands clasped, elbows resting on the knees of his dress slacks as he tried to process the new arrangements.

“Go on. I’ll send her down in a minute,” Dr. Arrenstein prompted him.

Dasia couldn’t figure out why Dr. Arrenstein wanted to see her alone. Her heart thumped in her chest as she watched Osip leave, his eyes on her as he crossed to room.

Then, it was the two of them. Dasia and the strange Dr. Arrenstein. She didn’t know what to say.

“I know you’ve had a rough time of it lately, but I wanted you to know that I wouldn’t do this unless it was the only option. I know you and Osip have become close.”

“What makes you think that?” She blinked in disbelief.

Dr. Arrenstein half-smiled. “I’ve been doing this a long time.”

“Then why are you splitting us up?” It was a fair enough question. Mable and Theo stayed together even after his near-fatal stunt. Neither Osip nor Dasia had committed any such nonsense. There was no reason to split them.

“Jane is refusing to work with Georgie.”

“That sounds like her problem.”

“You’re right. It is her problem, but if I don’t get her working soon, I can’t justify her position here any longer. I was hoping you might be able to get through to her, you know, girl to girl.” Dasia knew what happened to recruits that fell short. They all did. They’d been warned.

Jane refusing to work with her assigned partner was her own issue. Now Dasia was paying the price for someone else’s laziness. “Great, let me go get my hairbrush, and then we can gossip and have pillow fights.”

Dr. Arrenstein leaned his head back and laughed. “You’ve been spending far too much time with Maggie.”

Dasia stood to leave. “Is that why you sent her away, too?”

His smile faded in an instant, gone as fast as it had come. He cleared his throat before he said, “No, of course not.” He tucked his hands in his pockets. “I know you’ve lost people. I know it’s hard to make new friendships and even harder to lose them. But I need Jane on track. If I leave her with Georgie, I’ll have to terminate her.”

Jane? The beautiful Scholar Jane? In a prison nation?

She would never survive.

Dasia could see the sense of it. She didn’t like it, but she understood. She nodded her acceptance and left, though she didn’t get very far.

Osip waited in the corridor. “Are you okay? If you don’t want to be with her, I can tell him—”

Dasia shook her head. “I’m okay.”

He looked her up and down. “You are? Because I’m pretty fucking pissed,” he said less than quietly, only feet from Dr. Arrenstein’s door. “He has no right to split us up. We work great together, and we keep to ourselves. That’s exactly what he wants. What a prick.”

Dasia had never heard him curse, or even seen him angry. She’d seen him upset and hurt and disappointed, but never angry.

All because of her.

It brought a smile to her face. “I have to go. I’ll come see you later, okay?” She planted a kiss on his cheek so he would know she was serious.

Osip gave in and walked her down to the second floor, only leaving her at Jane’s door when she insisted and pushed him away. They knocked together, her at Jane’s and him at Georgie’s.

Only Georgie’s door opened.

LRF-PS-103

SEPTEMBER 12, 2232

“She’s pleasant,” Mable huffed as her new boss left the office. Oh joy, Scholars.

Calvin hung his head low and put his hands on his hips. After a few breaths, he picked himself up and said, “She’s actually fantastic. She’s going through some personal issues at the moment, so just go easy on her for a while.”

Personal issues? Since when did Scholars have personal issues? Mable realized. “You’re sleeping together.”

Calvin shook his head. “Not for the time being. It’s not really any of your business, but we can talk more about the situation at dinner tonight. Right now, you need to get familiar with 196.”

“That’s the planet?”

“Yes, the planet. Very likely the future homeworld for the human race. We’re very close. In a few days, we’ll have our meeting with Director Filmore. If all goes according to plan, he’ll grant permission for a colony. Then we have a few years to wait, but so far, it’s the most promising world we’ve ever seen.”

Mable had little to no interest in planetary research, but she couldn’t deny the allure of contributing to the largest discovery in the existence of mankind. There were worse assignments.

“You’re really Alex’s sister?” Calvin asked, more blurting it out than anything.

“In the flesh.” Mable wondered if Calvin knew Alex was alive, that he was off in some colony living his happily ever after, that he had her son in his care. No, she decided, of course not. Arrenstein would never tell a soul.

Calvin nodded like it made perfect sense, though she didn’t know why.

“All right, might as well get started.” Calvin spun his tablet on the table and pulled up a series of files. A violet planet hovered to one side as information streamed by on the other. “This is Perkins-196, named so because it was the 196th planet reported by Dr. Perkins.”

Yikes, 196 planet reports? No wonder she had to go get some on the side.

“It’s a mostly water planet with significant biodiversity in the terrestrial portions. So far, we’ve only found a few aquatic species, mostly microfauna. Before the meeting with Director Filmore, we need to finish cataloguing the indigenous species and identify those that could pose a potential threat to a colony or the colonists.”

Aquatic species? Microfauna? Finally, someone was speaking her language.

“You can help Dr. Perkins with the biological analysis, or Dr. Niemeyer with the geomorphological and climatological analysis. Your choice.”

As much as Mable felt the chill from her new boss, she knew far more about biology than any of that rock stuff the other guy was studying. Besides, if she was going to blow her cover, it might as well be with Vince’s girlfriend. Then, maybe he could bang her and she’d forget all about it.

“I’ll take biological analysis with the frigid doctor.”

Calvin rolled his eyes and let out a short laugh. “You’re just like him, you know? He was difficult, too.”

Mable stood and said, “I take that as a compliment.”

“You should.” Calvin walked around his desk and stood close, where he could speak to her in a low whisper. “Aida doesn’t know anything about CPI or bugs or any of it. She’s already had three extractions. She’s involved, but I don’t know how yet. Keep an eye out, but don’t let her know anything. She can
never
know.”

Calvin put his hands in his pockets in an Arrenstein-esque way as he walked across the hall. Mable followed him, though she wished she hadn’t. She felt like an unwanted viewer to their private moment.

Dr. Perkins pulled her awards from the wall, tossing them onto the desk behind her. She grabbed a handful of file drives and added them to the pile, clearing whole shelves in a single motion. Calvin approached her from behind, his hand comforting on the small of her back. “Let me help you,” he offered, his tone quiet and soothing.

“I don’t need your help.” She swiped a shelf-f of planet profiles into the seat of her chair.

“Dr. Perkins, please. Dr. Kaufman will escort you to your office. She’d like to work with you on the terrestrial species catalogue.”

She spun like a possessed woman, her gaze pointed as she glared at Mable. “I don’t need her help,” she said to Calvin. Her tone was venomous.

Calvin placed an arm across her chest, as if to hold her back. To Mable he said, “Could you give us a minute?”

Mable gladly walked out.