Page 44 of Pets in Space 10

She might have done so if she hadn’t seen Tikka herself loading a crate of personal items onto a gravcart.

Through the wide doorway behind her, the office looked stripped.

Amalena might have left them alone if there hadn’t been three more guards scrutinizing similar packing activities of the three senior staff who had announced their resignations yesterday as well.

The whole HuMed area was curiously deserted, too.

This wasn’t standard procedure for voluntary resignations.

It stank of petty revenge with a whiff of intimidation.

A surge of anger tightened Amalena’s jaw. Ignoring more glares from the guards, she angled toward an empty desk, then perched on its edge. Feigning casual observation, she took slow sips of her kaffa. She had no power to stop the injustice, but she could damn well bear witness.

Finally, Tikka sealed her crate and activated the gravcart. As she guided it out into the larger area, the two guards fell into step beside her. The other three resigning employees emerged with their own guards and crates, forming a small, somber procession. Tikka paused when she reached Amalena.

“Amalena,” Tikka said, her voice even, her face a professional mask that didn’t quite hide the anger in her eyes.

The guards moved closer, bringing an air of tension as their disapproving frowns edged toward hostility.

“It has been a pleasure working alongside you and Gaerynx these past few years. You’ve both done well with your departments. ”

“Thank you,” Amalena replied, keeping her tone even, matching Tikka’s professional veneer. “We learned a lot from your team’s thoroughness.”

“Good luck to you both,” Tikka continued. A flicker of something unreadable crossed her face. “I truly hope RyoGenomica gets everything it deserves with the reorganization.” Was that a subtle warning?

Amalena nodded. “Thank you. Gaerynx and I will try to look after your remaining people during the transition.” With as casual a tone as she could manage, Amalena continued. “Are there any priority tasks we should focus on? Just to ensure continuity.”

Tikka’s eyebrows lifted fractionally in surprise, then her expression smoothed back into neutral professionalism.

She glanced briefly upward before her gaze returned to Amalena.

“Well, since you asked, the quarterly efficacy review for RX-301 is due, and the phase two trial data for GL-76437 needs to be compiled so BioChem can start their work. And the bio-compatibility assessment for PT-1138 requires final sign-off.” She paused while Amalena activated her wristcomp to make notes of the numbers.

“Oh, and HM-8744 needs the pre-release internal audit review for psychokinetic effects. If you aren’t familiar with the HuMed procedure for that, it’s like that joint project we did twenty-six years ago.

You might find some useful context in the archives.

” As she spoke the last project number, her free hand made a small, dismissive flicking gesture near her hip.

Amalena stored the last number and the oddly specific date reference to an old project, keeping her expression politely interested. “Thanks for the heads-up, Tikka. We’ll make sure those stay on track.”

“Good.” Tikka nodded slightly. “The company is lucky to have you, Amalena.” She turned and continued toward the lifts, her guards shadowing her closely. The other three followed, none of them looking back.

Amalena abandoned her cup of kaffa and took the stairs down so she could watch them leave the building, as a silent gesture of solidarity. She would have gone farther, but Tikka paused again at the wide doors.

“They’re escorting us directly to the flitter stacker,” Tikka explained quietly, her voice devoid of inflection. “Protocol, apparently.” She offered a final, tight nod, then led the parade outside into the bright afternoon, accompanied by the imposing presence of the guards.

Amalena stayed inside the entrance as the automatic doors irised shut, leaving her alone in the sudden quiet of the lobby.

Anger warred with unease. Did Tikka really mean HM-8744, or was that code for HM-8544, the fast-track mess?

Amalena and Tikka had never worked together on any project, much less one from twenty-six years ago, before either of them joined the company.

The untagged records and bypassed procedures on HM-8544 suddenly felt less like sloppy work and more like something troubling.

She needed to talk to someone. Gaerynx was also caught in this ridiculous reorganization turmoil.

He’d seen the presentation and felt the same unease.

She could tell him about the HM-8544 anomalies, about Tikka’s strange parting words, and about the security guards.

Maybe he could tell her if she was overreacting, or come up with another scenario that fit the facts. And maybe they could find some answers.

She hesitated, shoving her hands in her pockets and staring out the lobby window at the campus landscape.

What if he thought she was catastrophizing?

What if he dismissed her intuition, chalked it up to her being too quick to latch onto a cause, inventing conspiracies where there were only corporate power plays and bureaucratic clumsiness?

The ghost of her last relationship whispered doubts in her ear.

It’s none of your business. Things aren’t that complicated. You read too much into things.

Intellectually, she knew that though Gaerynx was a co-worker, he wasn’t her ex-lover, and this situation was different. But tell that to her scorched heart.