Page 51 of Pets in Space 10

Rhys looked at his wristcomp, which had started blinking. “That’s my ten-minute warning for a meeting with BioChem.”

“Thanks, Rhys,” Gaerynx said, and he meant it for more than just the conversation. “It’s good to see you.”

“Anytime,” Rhys replied, clapping him on the shoulder. “Let’s book a dinner out sometime soon. I want to tell you about a project I have in mind because you always have creative ideas. Give Pavrel a scratch behind the ears for me.”

Gaerynx focused on his coffee as Rhys left. Would he lose that friendship if he had to leave RyoGenomica? He shook his head to clear his thoughts. He had enough problems on his slate as it was. Borrowing more from the future wasn’t helpful.

Back in his office, Gaerynx stared at his team’s schedule, which was now a disorderly grid with gaping holes.

He was just starting to poke around for any executive decision memos that hadn’t been tagged as secure-confidential when a new company-wide notice arrived.

The bland subject line about a change in archival storage made it sound routine, but he’d been waiting for something like it.

The carefully crafted paragraphs were evidence that someone with corporate spin-and-twist experience had written it.

Owing to unforeseen physical issues and events, all the company’s archival paper records were compromised last night in an unexpected thermal event.

The notice assured employees that, while a mechanical failure contributed to the problem, the main building’s basement was uncompromised.

No critical data was lost, as all the authoritative digital records were safe, redundant, and secure.

A new, improved storage solution would be procured, and the paper records regenerated in due course.

He snorted with wry amusement. He supposed that explaining how decades of paper records were slagged in a fire wouldn’t exactly be a morale booster for the employees. The wordcraft skill of whoever wrote the notice was exceptional. His career had made him an unwilling expert in the genre.

As if on cue, his personal wristcomp chimed with a private message from Amalena. Hah. “Unexpected thermal event?” I’m surprised they didn’t call it an “unscheduled atmospheric heat exchange.”

A genuine laugh escaped him. He sent a quick reply. Or “accelerated energetic materials degradation.” The brief exchange was a welcome reminder that he wasn’t navigating this mess alone.

Moments later, his desk terminal pinged again, a direct message this time. It was from Leru Mokele, RyoGenomica’s Security Manager. Gaerynx, come to conference room C-W6 immediately. We need a detailed report of what you found in the basement archives last night.

Annoyance made his jaw tighten. The phrasing skated close to sounding like an order from a boss, which she certainly was not.

At least, not that he knew of, considering his uncertain assignment status.

Though he wanted to tell her to sit and spin on a flux engine, he kept his reply curt but courteous.

Respectfully, I sent a comprehensive report to your office last night. I have nothing to add.

Not thirty seconds later, his terminal chimed with an incoming voice-only call from Mokele. He blew out a frustrated breath, then accepted it.

“Gaerynx, hi.” Her voice was casual and friendly, at odds with the tone of her written message. “Listen, this will only take a few minutes. We really need you up here now.”

A familiar wariness, honed by years of corporate betrayals, iced the back of his neck. “Is this an official disciplinary meeting?” he asked, striving for a neutral inflection. “Who else will be in attendance?”

Mokele let out a laugh that sounded genuine.

“Chaos, no. Nothing like that. My apologies if my message came across that way. I was in a hurry. I just want to show you some security vids of the fire damage and see if they match what you remember. I have to submit the package to the insurance company’s damage assessment team today, and I want to make sure my report is airtight. ”

It was plausible, but then again, successful ambushes usually were. “Let me check my schedule,” he hedged, buying time.

He swiveled his chair sideways while activating his personal wristcomp.

He pulled up the pingref for the employment law firm he’d hired to review his RyoGenomica contract six years ago.

His chaotic job history had taught him one invaluable lesson: Always be prepared for trouble.

He quickly sent them a notice of intent, activating his retainer.

Any communication from this point forward would be protected.

He swiveled back to his desk. “I’ll be up in about ten minutes.” After he sent all the documentation he could gather to his lawyer.

“Great. See you soon,” Mokele said, ending the call.

Gaerynx found the third-floor conference room easily enough.

The door irised open to reveal Mokele, a fit woman whose corporate suit accentuated that fact, and a lanky younger man whose void-black clothing accented his pale skin and a startling shock of almost glowing red hair.

They were set up at the far end of the long table, the room’s main display showing an image.

It looked like a three-dimensional topographical model of weathered black mountains under a heavy drift of pink-tinged snow.

It took Gaerynx a moment to realize he was looking at what was left of the metal storage cabinets, covered in a thick coat of residue from the fire suppression system.

“Gaerynx, thanks for coming,” Mokele said, gesturing to a chair opposite them. “This is Leff, my vid tech. We’re just reviewing the initial damage recordings.”

Gaerynx sat. “It looks worse than I remember.”

“The high-def cameras bring out all the details,” Mokele said smoothly. “Does this vary from what you saw last night? Anything look different?”

“No,” Gaerynx said, remembering the acrid smell of melted metal and chemicals. “But the stench made me cough, so I didn’t stick around.”

“Understandable.” Mokele’s tone was casual, her focus seemingly on the screen.

“Leff, start the vid.” She looked briefly at Gaerynx, then back to the screen.

“You scientists sure work late hours. The logs say you were down there for just under four minutes. Just out of curiosity, what were you looking for?”

Gaerynx wasn’t fooled. Her question was the real reason for the in-person meeting.

His brother’s CPS buddies had been nova-class assholes, but he’d learned a lot just by listening while pretending insensibility after too much cheap ale.

Interrogators, even sifters who could tell when someone was lying, could be deflected.

He let his face reflect his opinion that it was a silly question. “Historical records.” Volunteering extra details was a common amateur mistake and tended to pique an interrogator’s interest.

“For one of your projects?” Mokele prompted, splitting her attention between him and the screen as the image panned slowly over the damaged room.

“Nope.” That was certainly true; it hadn’t been one of his projects. “I just wanted to confirm that my department’s paper records were being stored like they’re supposed to be. I figured it would be a quick check.” Selected truths always worked better than lies.

She gave a wry chuckle. “Not what you expected, eh?” Her vocal cadence hinted at an Islander family background. “Show him the rest of the vids, Leff.”

Leff touched controls to play a new vid. It appeared to be a low-resolution view of him walking down the stairs from the first-floor doorway, but it ended after he was out of frame. A second vid segment showed him walking upstairs, this time faster, and exiting through the first-floor door.

Leff shook his head. “Too bad the new high-def monitors in the basement got flatlined with the surge.” He looked like he would have said more, but a quelling glance from Mokele had him looking down and hunching his shoulders.

“So, our recordings match what you saw?” Mokele asked, turning her full attention back to Gaerynx.

He stood and moved closer to the screen while choosing his words carefully. “A far as I remember.” He shot an alarmed look at Leff. “The official archives weren’t in there, too, were they? The notice didn’t say.”

“No, they’re fine,” replied Leff reassuringly. “Besides, we’ve got three off-site hypercubes with the full backups for those.”

Before Mokele could shush Leff again, Gaerynx gestured toward the lower right corner of the vids on display.

“Are the stairway vid time-stamps accurate? It felt longer.” When she nodded, he leaned forward slightly, mirroring her earlier oh-so-casual curiosity.

“If you don’t mind me asking, why didn’t the fire suppression system trigger in time to prevent that much damage? ”

Mokele responded with a professional smile.

“We don’t know yet. Obviously a mechanical failure, but we’re still looking for any contributing factors.

” Phrases straight from the official notice.

Her face relaxed into a genial expression.

“That’s everything we needed. Thanks for responding so quickly, both last night and now. Have a great day.”

Gaerynx nodded and turned at the obvious dismissal, forcing himself to keep his exit unhurried in case she was watching. Or the new high-def monitors were watching. He doubted the fire had slagged the whole building’s new security system.

Walking down to his office, Gaerynx was doubly glad he had engaged the lawyers, even if it would blow his finances out of the water.

Mokele hadn’t hinted that she suspected him of anything, but her opinion might not matter.

If the insurance company balked at paying for the damages, he wouldn’t put it past Sainik and Dequer to look for someone to blame.

He’d rather eat expired mealpacks for a year than be turned into a scapegoat.