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“We’ve got confirht one”
“I saw,” Fred replied, finishing the cut He sainst the surface, and then opened the outer zipper “You’re up”
Holden eredup the ency suit
“If anything looks suspicious, just get back out,” Fred said “We’ll take our chances with a real demolitions tech”
“I’ll just pop my head in,” Holden said
“Sure you will,” Fred said The angle of the faceplate made Fred’s smile impossible to see, but he could hear it Holden pulled the outer sheet of the lock over him, sealed it, inflated the blister, and opened the interior sheet The cut was a square, a e foam between the theboot in place, and kicked in The foam splintered and broke inward; the cut panel floated into the container Dull buttery light spilled out
Monica Stuart lay strapped in a crash couch Her eyes were open but glazed, her e of black scab A cheap autodoc was cla out to her neck like a leash There didn’t see CAUTION EXPLOSIVES sign anyway
When Holden grabbed the edge of the crash couch, it shifted on its giht he saw a flicker of emotion there – confusion and ently A tiny spurt of clear liquid bubbling and dancing in the air He cracked the eencyseconds later, it reported that she appeared sedated but stable and asked if Holden wanted to intervene
“How’s it going in there?” Fred asked, and this time Holden remembered to turn on the mic
“I’ve got her”
Three hours later, they were in the medical bay on Tycho Station proper The roouards posted outside and all network connections to the suite physically disabled Three other beds sat empty, the patients, if there were any, rerouted to other places It was half recovery room, half protective custody, and Holden could only wonder if Monica understood how much of that security was just theater
“That wasn’t fun,” Monica said
“I know,” Holden said “You’ve been through a lot”
“I have” The words were slushy, like she was drunk, but her eyes had the sharpness and focus Holden was used to seeing in them
Fred, standing at the foot of the bed, crossed his ar to have to ask you some questions”