Page 53 (2/2)

“Are you sure it’s the right crate?” Holden asked

“I am,” Fred said “But let’s check anyway”

For the next hour, the increasingly confused mech driver hauled out crates from the pallet and Fred and Holden opened them When the motes of protein dust in the air set off the particulate warning alarm twice, Fred called a stop

“She’s not here,” he said

“I saw that So that’s kind of weird, right?”

“It is”

Fred rubbed his eyes with his finger and thuathered himself, the sense of power and authority was still there “Either they switched the crates somewhere between her quarters and here or they doctored the feed”

“Both of those would be bad”

Fred looked over at the mech driver as she piled the opened crates into a stack to ship back for reprocessing When he spoke, his voice was low enough it would only carry to Holden “Both of which would e of the security systeh access to wipe the records completely”

“That narrows it down?”

“A little, maybe Could be a UN black ops tea like this Or Mars”

“But you don’t think that’s it, do you?”

Fred chewed his lip He pulled up his hand terminal, typed in a series of codes, every tap sharp and percussive An alert Klaxon sounded and gold-and-green alert icons appeared on every display from Holden’s hand terminal to the door controls to the mech status panel Fred pushed his fists into his pockets with a satisfied grunt

“Did you just lock down the station?” Holden said

“I did,” Fred said “And I’ot some answers And Monica Stuart back”