Page 52 of Pets in Space 10

Back at his desk, the emptiness of his work schedule seemed to mock him. The silence in his office, once a welcome reprieve, now felt like a void. With no meetings and no team to manage, he was adrift. He needed to talk to Amalena.

Not, he told himself, because he wanted her company.

He had news to share. It was a practical necessity.

Besides, tomorrow was their deadline for requesting a Governing Board review of the reorganization.

He still had no idea what he was going to do about that.

Maybe Amalena, with her gift for seeing into the heart of things, would have a better idea.

He sent her a quick meeting invitation for midday, offering to fly them anywhere she wanted to get lunch. Since he still had the company flitter reserved for the day, he might as well use it. For all he knew, it might be the last time he could.

With no immediate response from Amalena, he turned his attention to his new priority task.

He began methodically collecting and encrypting more documentation — employment contract, the reorganization notices, the company handbook, department performance records — to send to the law firm.

He was careful to leave all the proprietary declaration notices intact so the lawyers would treat the files with the required confidentiality.

He’d learned the hard way that a comprehensive, time-stamped data trail was the best shield in a corporate firefight.

With the core group of records sent, he started a new packet with older records when his desk display chimed. He glanced at it with a flicker of anticipation, hoping for a reply from Amalena.

Instead, the message was from Acting Vice President Cambrio Sainik. The title was new. The stark text of the memo was, unfortunately, not. Emergency mandatory meeting. My office. Now.

Cold slid down Gaerynx’s spine. This was how it always started.

He made himself take a slow, deep breath, and then another. Oxygen kept anxiety at bay and helped him order his thoughts.

First, he forwarded Sainik’s message to the lawyers.

He glanced around his office and saw nothing he couldn’t live without.

If they force-marched him out without letting him get his coat and gear bag, he’d have bigger issues to worry about.

He sent the files, blanked the display with Sainik’s memo still queued, then pushed back from his desk and headed for the executive suites on the fourth floor.

Dismay chilled him when he saw Amalena exit from the lift beside his, but he couldn’t say he was surprised.

She must have gotten the message first, or already been in the building.

For a split second, when their gazes met, he saw tight lines of worry around her mouth.

They smoothed away as she gave him a brief, professional nod.

Her expression and body language were carefully controlled.

Clearly, she also expected their employment contracts to be terminated then and there.

Sainik’s office was spacious and sharply modern, with a panoramic view of the rain-drenched campus.

Smiling, seemingly unconcerned by Gaerynx’s watchful gaze or Amalena’s darting glances around the room, he gestured for them to sit in the two guest chairs that faced the desk.

“Amalena, Gaerynx, thanks for coming on such short notice.”

As Gaerynx complied, he did his best to keep his expression neutral and cooperative while skepticism twisted like a molecular knife in his chest. In the window’s reflection behind Sainik, Amalena was admirably unreadable as she gracefully sat on the edge of the chair.

“We have an emergency situation with a priority customer on Carthagenim,” Sainik said, his tone urgent.

“A confidential, high-security cargo delivery. The customer is demanding gold-level service, which requires round-the-clock manager oversight during transit. You two are the only qualified managers available.” He gave them a look of earnest apology.

“I wasn’t sure the customer would agree to the higher fee for the top-level service, which is why you weren’t included in yesterday’s memo about reassigning staff to HuMed. ”

Gaerynx suppressed an urge to shake his head. Sainik’s words weren’t at all what he’d expected, but too many volunteered facts were tumbling out of the man’s mouth.

“Luckily,” Sainik continued, his smile widening, “our interstellar research ship, the Herikkusu Dansa, is currently docked at the Ivyar Space Station for resupply. You’ll need to take a shuttle up this afternoon.

No later than sixteen hundred hours.” He turned to his large display and tapped it several times.

“I just sent you all the logistics details. Plus, as compensation for the extreme inconvenience, once the cargo is delivered, RyoGenomica will treat you to three extra nights at Floriana Resort. Perhaps you’ve heard of it?

Fantastic nightlife and never-ending parties. ”

“How long is the transit to Carthagenim?” Amalena’s tone was even. “I’m not sure I can make personal arrangements in that short amount of time.”

Sainik waved a dismissive hand. “It’s a short trip.

Only three transit days each way. Six days total, or nine if you take the free vacation.

” He frowned, then his eyes widened in a show of realization.

“Oh, that’s right, you have a pet.” He glanced from Amalena to Gaerynx.

“You both have pets.” He paused, tapping a finger on his desk, looking thoughtful.

“Well, of course, you must bring them. The Herikkusu Dansa has plenty of room. Pets are such an important part of our lives, aren’t they? ”

Gaerynx would bet his custom-painted bicycle that Sainik had never had a pet in his life.

But why all the lying? “I’m not sure I can reschedule my personal obligations this fast,” Gaerynx said.

Maybe Sainik would volunteer more useful “facts” if Gaerynx baited him a little.

“This is quite a change from the scope of the team manager position. Are you changing our official responsibilities to include being on call at all hours for interstellar courier duty?”

A flash of annoyance crossed Sainik’s face before being replaced by his practiced smile.

“It’s a one-time emergency. You have one hour to let my office know if you’re going.

If not, we might need to look at your contracts.

” He let the vague threat hang in the air.

“I trust you’ll both make the right decision for you and the company. ”

He dismissed them with a nod.

As they walked out past Sainik’s sharp-eyed administrative assistant, Gaerynx kept his eyes forward, pretending he and Amalena were no more than casual colleagues called to the same unpleasant meeting.

Maybe he was paranoid, but as far as he knew, the new fourth-floor high-def hallway cameras hadn’t been fried in the basement fire. He’d apologize to her later if needed.

Back at his desk, he immediately placed a vid call to Rhys Ma’afe. Gaerynx hadn’t been on anything smaller than a passenger liner between planets, and he needed information.

“Hey, what’s up?” Rhys’s cheerful face lit up the display.

“Quick question,” Gaerynx said, keeping his tone light. “I have to take a last-minute trip on the Herikkusu Dansa. Any packing tips?”

“The Dansa? I thought it was out of service. Maintenance must have gone faster than they thought. It’s comfortable enough for an older ship, if a little oddly configured.

It’s a refurbed private touring yacht. I usually use transit time to catch up on reports.

Both the company’s ships regularly sync all the company records and archives so we don’t have to wait for realspace comms drops.

” Rhys said. “But bring your own entertainment. Since they beefed up security, they’ve taken to limiting external comms and net access to company resources.

” He paused. “Wait, where are they sending you and why?”

Since Sainik hadn’t said anything about confidentiality, Gaerynx repeated Sainik’s jumbled explanation. When he mentioned that he and Amalena had permission to travel with pets, Rhys’s jaw dropped in astonishment.

“They’re letting you bring your cats? That’s a first. You’d better take everything — food, toys, litter box, the works.

It’s a corporate research ship with zero provisions for non-human passengers.

” Rhys was silent for a moment, then shook his head.

“I gotta say, this trip sounds warped, even for Sainik.”

Gaerynx appreciated Rhys’s concern, but carefully chose not to confirm his agreement that the situation was beyond warped. “Thanks, Rhys. I appreciate it.”

Rhys looked unhappy, but nodded. “Feel free to contact me if you need anything.”

“Will do.” Gaerynx ended the call and glanced at the clock display on the wall. He would bring Pavrel. If “only six days” was another lie, he refused to leave his kulak stranded.

He sent a quick, encrypted message to Amalena on his personal wristcomp.

I’m going on Sainik’s trip. If I’m going to lose my job, it’ll be on my terms, not his.

If you’re going, too — no pressure — Rhys says bring all pet supplies because the ship has none.

Also, bring entertainment. No public comms or net access in transit.

He wished they had time to think and strategize, but the countdown had already started. Amalena’s reply came back a minute later. Thanks for the intel. I’m going, too. I’m sure Merix will be thrilled… eventually.

Her little joke made him smile as he cleared his desk and grabbed his coat and bag. Four hours was barely enough time to take an autocab home, pack for himself and Pavrel, and get to the spaceport in time for the shuttle the company had booked them on.

Energy buzzed in his veins. For once, he was doing something, not just waiting for the meteor to fall.

A tiny part of him couldn’t deny he was looking forward to getting to know Amalena better, away from the collapsing world of RyoGenomica.

But doubt, his old and constant companion, dragged him.

Their alliance was new, fragile. His romantic track record was only marginally better than his job history.

More importantly, though, a single question echoed with sudden clarity. What in the hells of chaos was Sainik up to?