Her feet shuffled along the floor, one dragging behind more than the other. At some point, a sharp ache had developed in her right ankle—she’d probably twisted it in her run—and her body was making its complaints known. Tuomin had taken her bag back. She’d stashed two of the bulbs in an outer pocket and told him to be careful with it. She wasn’t sure if she’d thanked him yet. The world had began to sway again, as if the station had encountered a space-ocean and was rolling with the swells. Her eyes had gone beyond dry, and no amount of squinting was fixing the problem. Occasionally, she’d catch Dimas glancing down to her on her other side, his concern evident on his face.

I must look like all kinds of upturned hell.

Except that probably wasn’t accurate. She’d seen herself like this before. She had one of those faces where it was hard to tell things unless one really noticed the little things. Probably the most that showed was some bloodshot to her eyes and maybe some bagginess under her eyes. Oh—and the thin sheen of sweat that she could feel against her skin. Gods, she felt like someone had dipped her like a candle. And Yamaguchi’s borrowed maintenance suit wasn’t helping.

But, as they turned the corner and Curlew came into view farther down the hall, something else distracted her from those thoughts.

I thought I turned the lights off. Her frown deepened as she took in the soft glow of the company’s shopfront lighting up the hall. She had most definitely shut it down and locked up before leaving—even in her sleep-deprived state she remembered that—and she had never switched on the exterior lights and signage.

Then a familiar figure appeared in the window, small and lithe, wearing a blue knit top and jeans, her chestnut-dyed hair falling forward as she hunched over the netlink she held in both hands, and Jiayi perked up.

Emily Chang, Curlew’s official second-in-command.

Relief flooded through her, and then a tinge of guilt—she actually hadn’t thought too hard about whether Emily had survived the Shadows or not. Although Emily was Curlew’s assistant manager, she hadn’t actually seen the woman for three months due to her maternity leave, and as they approached another wave of emotion-grief, sorrow, happiness—hit her chest. She forced herself to breathe through the mess. As they approached the storefront, a smile tugged at the corners of her lips. Her shoulders relaxed down and back.

Through the window, Emily glanced up from her netlink—then did a double take, her eyebrows shooting up into her forehead as she took in the group of soldiers and Jiayi in their midst. She set the netlink down on the counter and hurried around the counter to meet them at the door.

"Sol's child, girl, what in the heck…?” Her eyebrows drifted back upward as her gaze moved from Jiayi, to the broken bulbs in her hand, and the soldiers around her.

Captain Rubensohn cleared his throat. "Miss Tian was helping us with an electrical problem on Harbin level.”

“On… lighting?” Emily gave the two broken bulbs in her hand an inquisitive study, her eyebrows rising again—they both knew Curlew handled deeper problems than lightbulbs—but she didn’t voice her concerns. Above all, Curlew had a strict policy to save face and retain the company’s image. She wouldn’t question Jiayi in front of strangers, and Jiayi doubted she’d question her decisions much at all. Although they hadn’t seen each other for three months, Emily knew Jiayi wasn’t stupid.

“Yes, and I still haven’t located the problem,” she said, lifting the bulbs. “I need to run a couple of tests on these. Got a couple more in the bag.”

This time, Emily’s expression didn’t even twitch. She gave a quick nod to the bulbs, then turned a professional smile up to Captain Rubensohn, who dwarfed her by about half a meter. “I’m happy she is safe, and I can certainly assist with the tests. Is there anything else that needs doing?”

“Oh, plenty.” Captain Rubensohn gave a snort. “But nothing you can help with for now. Do you have contact with your people?”

“I’ve contacted two others from Curlew—Barika Sarkis and Maitri Soman—as well as another five from around the industry.” Emily hesitated. “My son and husband have also survived.”

Jiayi felt a surge of relief at her words—she hadn’t even thought about Emily’s family, and she’d buried the worries she’d had for Barry and Maitri when she’d left with the soldiers. In hindsight, Emily didn’t appear to be an emotional trainwreck, so perhaps an instinctual part of her had guessed that Emily’s family was all right, but hells, her uncle still hadn’t gotten back to her. She had no idea if he was still okay, or if aunt Lian had survived the attack.

The world seemed to sway around her again, the station moving on another one of those non-existent space-waves as her sleep deprivation stuck against the sides of her brain.

Fortunately, Captain Rubensohn had moved on to other things. “Good. Keep it up, and try to gather them in one spot if you can.” He glanced into the office with narrowed eyes, and his mouth half-opened as if he wanted to say something, but he jerked his head away and instead turned his attention to Tuomin, who still carried her bag. “Private Adirr, you stay here with them.”

Tuomin gave a sharp nod. “Yes, sir.”

“Everyone else, we’ve got a date on Sumatra.” A mix of expressions, some ecstatic and others uneasy—Sumatra was near the top, and one of the most-desired levels to live in, which meant that, in addition to containing the elite, it also housed much of the station government. There were a lot of private security companies running up there, so if they’d had to call in the stations actual military… well, on one hand it could be that they had more pull and had the ability to call the military away from the lower levels where they may be needed more. On the other…

Perhaps things were really bad up there.

“All right, folks,” Rubensohn said when no one moved. “I’d like us to get up there today if you can arrange it.”

Movement flowed through the two squads like a murmur, and all the men snapped straighter. After a brief glance up and down the hall, the men toward the back of the group turned around and headed back the way they’d come, toward the floor’s main elevators. Tuomin stepped in to her side as they began to move. Captain Rubensohn paused for one last moment to roll his eyes behind his men’s backs—a gesture meant for Tuomin, judging by the grin that flashed on his face in return—then joined the rest of them with a backward wave.

Tuomin caught her questioning stare with a shrug. “He married my aunt.”

“How romantic,” said Emily from behind, her tone dropped from the light professionalism of before and taking on a deeper, acerbic edge. “Now, how about you two come in and Jiayi can explain exactly what in the ten hells is going on?”

Yeah. That was the Emily she knew and respected. Sweet and demure when the situation suited it, but no one rose into Curlew’s managerial roles for their customer service ability. She had a mind like a laser-trap and took absolutely zero shit from anybody. Practical and efficient, she knew how to work both people and the circuits Curlew was known for. Even during her leave she’d done some redesign work for the company. She knew everything Curlew did, and everything Curlew didn’t do…

…which was why she was now eyeing the two broken bulbs in Jiayi’s hands as if they were some worms she’d brought back from the garden.

“Light bulbs?” She said in a hush—and with a glance to the retreating backs of the soldiers who were now turning the next corner. “Since when did we become janitors?”

“They were out,” Tuomin explained. “The whole floor was out. She was testing them.”

Emily turned her gaze on him. With her shoulders hunched and her arms crossed over her chest, a casual observer might get the impression that she was cold—but a quick look at her pursed lips, narrowed eyes, and shrewd, unapologetic expression dissolved that in an instant. She gave him an obvious appraisal, taking in everything from his boots, uniform, and name-patch to the bag he still carried, to the helmet on his head and the expression he wore behind its visor. After a few seconds, which ended with her apparently sizing up the breadth of his shoulders—he stood a good thirty centimeters taller than her—she finally turned around and led the way through Curlew’s door.

“Okay. Come in, sit down, and start from the beginning.”

(Part one of two. Look for the second to come in about 24 hours when I get off of work.)