Jason fired up his monitor and absently scratched his scalp. Like many of the older residents on the ship, he had lost most of his hair. All that remained on his wrinkled scalp were a few wispy strands.
“Ah, here we go,” he said, peering at the screen. “Looks like… Hmm, that’s odd.”
“What’s odd?” Layla said.
He put a finger on his chin as if in deep thought. “My records don’t go back very far, Miss Brower, but it looks as if only two people checked this book out in the past three years—within two weeks of each other.”
“Who?” Michael asked.
“Janet Gardner and Maria Ash.”
“That can’t be,” Michael said. He stepped behind the desk to confirm that the old man was seeing right, but sure enough, Maria Ash had checked the book out three years ago.
“Something’s wrong with your records,” Michael said.
Jason frowned and shook his head. “No, Commander, my records are always accurate.”
“Then how do you explain Captain Ash checking out a book two years after she died?”
Jason put his finger back on his chin. “Well, I… I’m not sure, but the rational explanation would be that someone used her credentials to check this book out under her name.”
Layla thanked the old librarian with a polite nod. Then she stepped away from the desk and beckoned Michael to the center of the room.
“Who would use Captain Ash’s credentials?” he whispered. “And why?”
“I don’t know. Why does the name Janet Gardner ring a bell?”
It took Michael a second to remember. “I think she goes by Janga now. I heard she’s a complete nut job.”
“Janga, as in the woman Weaver kept sneaking off to see?” Frowning, Layla turned back to the circulation desk. “Jason, would you do us a favor?”
“Certainly, Miss Brower.”
“If anyone ever asks, please don’t tell them we were here today.”
Jason took a moment to think on it and then smiled. “I will do this, but in return, I’d like you to bring me some fresh material for the library next time you dive.”
Michael grinned back. The old man hadn’t struck him as the bargaining type, but on the Hive, everyone wanted to make a deal.
“Sure thing, sir,” Michael said.
Layla nudged him toward the door and whispered, “Let’s go.”
“What? Maybe we should look at the book again to see if we missed something.”
She smiled, eyes shining. “We didn’t miss anything. That was the clue, Tin. We have to go see Janga.”
Sometimes, silence was more effective than swearing. Hands shaking with anger, Captain Leon Jordan grabbed a pen off his desk and bent it in half. Without uttering a word, he swiveled his chair to face Ensign Hunt.
Hunt took a step back. There was fear in his eyes, and something else that Jordan couldn’t place. He didn’t like making people fear him, but it was necessary. Fear was what kept order on the Hive.
And someone was threatening that order. Again.
“I’m sorry, sir,” Hunt said. “It was an honest mistake. I thought Magnolia had discovered X’s transmission in the archives, but it was Janet Gardner.”
Jordan knew he should feel conflicted over having sent Magnolia to her death, but all he felt was rage—toward someone he should have dealt with a long time ago. She was back to meddling again, and that meddling had cost him a Hell Diver.
“Are you sure this time?” Jordan asked.
“Quite, sir. Only certain people on the ship can access the restricted archives. Members of the crew, a few ranking militia soldiers, and Hell Divers. The log-in was from a deceased diver.”
“Who?”
“Xavier Rodriguez, sir.”
Jordan carefully bent the pen back into shape and placed it back on his desk. Hunt looked at it, then back to Jordan, and continued explaining, the words tumbling out.
“At first I thought it was Magnolia, because Sergeant Jenkins reported one of his soldiers seeing her outside my hatch, eavesdropping. But after I tapped into the archives, I was able to determine where the hack came from: a terminal in communal living space three. The only one there who even understands how to access the system is Janga. Magnolia didn’t know anything.”
Jordan’s fingers tightened on the edge of his desk. Hunt also had a roll to play in the death of Magnolia. His mistake couldn’t be overlooked.
“Find Janet Gardner and lock her in the stockade,” Jordan snapped.
Hunt nodded and began backing away.
“Hold on,” Jordan said. He had allowed himself a breath to consider his decision. He couldn’t afford to act on emotion. “Make it discreet, Ensign. Janga is old and frail. You need only one guard. Send Sergeant Jenkins, and tell him to keep this quiet. There are those who believe in her ridiculous prophecy. I can’t afford an uprising over this.”
“Understood, Captain. Um… you won’t cut my rations, will you, sir? Mel and the kids need—”
“Dismissed.”
The door to his office closed, and Jordan touched the monitor to continue reviewing Captain Ash’s final logs. Placing the headphones over his ears, he listened to the scratchy voice of a long-dead woman.
“There are two certainties in my life. The first is that the cancer will kill me. I don’t have long now. The second and most frightening, however, is not my own death, but the death of my people—and, with them, the extinction of the human race. What I have learned has me questioning every belief I ever held.”
Jordan skipped to the next log. He couldn’t count the number of times he had listened to her ramblings. She had been crazy, and the mission he authorized to find the Hilltop Bastion was the only way to prove it to those who still believed in her dream.
“I’ve spent my entire career searching for a place for the Hive to put down, a habitable spot that would allow our species to start over, to right the wrongs of our ancestors. I’ve scoured the archives for information on locations abroad that might have been spared from the horrors of World War Three, but every ITC ship that risked the journey across the ocean reported seeing the same destruction. In some cases, the radiation and electrical storms were even worse than in North America.
“For several years, I kept in contact with Captain Sean Rolo of the Victory. He had made it across the Atlantic and was searching Africa, where he located a place called Mount Kilimanjaro that looked promising. No electrical storms, minimal radiation. Sometimes, they could even see the sun there. He made the decision to set the ship down, but shortly afterward, his transmissions stopped. That was over a decade ago. I never told anyone about it.
“I believe that Captain Rolo intended to set down and start over. However, I also believe that the monsters were already there. That’s why I’ve decided to search for strongholds belowground that could house the population of the Hive and allow us to endure until it’s safe to return to the surface.
“I’ve put together a list of bunkers that ITC built deep under the earth—places that could house and feed every member of the Hive, where we wouldn’t have to fear electrical storms, monsters, famine, or the radiation that poisons our bodies. I’ve included the list at the end of this log for my second in command, Lieutenant Leon Jordan, to carry on this mission.
“Our future is no longer in the sky. Our future is underground.”
Jordan could still remember the first time he read the log. It had seemed crazy then, and it seemed crazy now. Every single one of the locations in her list, including the Hilltop Bastion, was in a red zone. Their enemies had dropped bombs on the underground ITC facilities. Even if the bunkers had survived, the surface above them was a radioactive wasteland.