My sleep is heavy and dreamless. That's a small blessing. I don't get as much as I would like, but at least exhaustion means I don't have any nightmares.

My day is looking traumatic enough. Well, I might as well get what closure I can, before reporting in-person to Cartwright. Pulling on my uniform, attaching my stun-stick and taser, I do a sniff test, just to make sure. I'm pretty sure Rabi’s screwing with me.

As I dress, I ping the Chimera. I guess I'm expecting Sparrow to dodge my ping, because I'm caught off guard when she answers.

"Well, hello Melody. I suppose you're not the 'wait-three-days' before pinging type," she teases, making me snort. Hah, everyone on this station can read me so well.

I run my hand through my hair. "Well, what can I say? I've never been the most patient sort," I admit.

Sparrow chuckles. "Oh, I'm getting that. And not that I don't love hearing your voice, but to what do I owe the pleasure?"

I bite my tongue. For the moment I'm torn. Should I tell her someone tried to kill her? Would I want to know? Do I owe that to her?

"Melody?"

I weigh my choices. "It's... there was an incident yesterday, at the dock," I say carefully.

"Oh! Is that why you pinged me yesterday? Sorry, I had company," she says quickly. Well, she's up front about it.

I take a deep breath. "Yes... someone hacked my eyebot. I dropped in first-person, and they attacked me. Blighted and bricked my primary node," I say, rubbing my temple. Feels like the dermal patch has taken.

"Starless skies... are you alright?" I hear the concern in her voice.

I swallow hard. "Yeah, replaced the node, I was in and out of medical before the day was done. But they tried to wire the eyebot to overload. They may have been trying to sabotage the dock. Or one of the ships. Based on the positioning, I think it was going for the Chimera." I bite my bottom lip.

There's silence for a moment. "Well, I can guess what that's about," she sighs. She doesn't sound surprised.

Goosebumps rise on my arms at that. "What does that mean?"

I hear a sigh. "It's related to some CI work that I did a while back. I can't actually talk about it without clearing it with my old handler," she says quickly.

My heart beats a little faster. "Would your handler happen to be Officer Rusteaster?" I ask softly.

There's silence in response.

Please don't tell me... "Sparrow, please level with me. What's going on? Are you acting as a CI? Are you... using me to-"

"No!" She interjects. "And I'm not an active informant, I haven't been for years, but it's tangentially related. Really, Melody, please it's... I'm not... Just give me a day, let me get clearance, and I'll tell you everything," she says without pausing.

I shake my head. "Sparrow, I'm sorry, but if someone tried to kill you-"

"No! Not... Just... one day. Please. Trust me," she pleads, and for a moment I want to just break the connection.

Trust me. I hate hearing those words.

"...Alright. But this time you're buying me dinner. And however it shakes out, I'm keeping the coffee."

***

On the walk to the Precinct, I decide to ping Officer Rusteater. I'm not expecting them to be very helpful, but I've been pleasantly surprised before.

Rarely. He answers me almost immediately. "Lieutenant, thank you for pinging me at a reasonable time. What can I help you with?"

I take a breath. "Officer Rusteater, first, I'd like to apologize if-"

"Apology accepted, if it speeds this along. What do you want? Sir?" He adds belatedly.

Alright, if that's how you want to do this. "There was an incident at the dock-"

"I was informed. A suspect hacked your eyebot and tried to weaponize it. You disabled the bot, pursued the suspect, who either self-terminated or threw a decoy and evaded."

Ok, he's very well informed. "You seem to know-"

"I'm a Synth, as are most of the forensics department. Cops gossip, even more so through the exonet," he offers. Very quickly.

I roll my eyes at that. "Alright, do you know what this incident was about?"

"Yes. And to forgo your next question, no, I do not intend to elaborate. And if you gave me an order, I would refuse it. You could then escalate it to Captain Cartwright, who would back me unequivocally because he would know exactly what it's regarding," the synth delivers in a monotone.

Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

"And you have no intention of telling me what that is?” Of course.

"Correct. Sir. I will say only that it is related to witness protection. Consult with Captain Cartwright if you wish to know more."

I let a few moments pass. So many vacuum-sucking secrets and lies. "Just answer me this. Is Sparrow involved in this?"

"...Have a nice day, Lieutenant." Well, that was as close to an admission as I'm likely to get. Cartwright clearly knows more, but will he share it? Somehow, I doubt it.

What the void-spawned fuck is going on?

***

I fully intend to ask Captain Cartwright. I have many flaws, and 'not letting things go' tops the list. But the moment I get to the Precinct, I know that's not going to happen.

It's tense. He calls me into his office, and everyone else is gone. Ordered away, or wanting to be away from ground-zero? Rats and sinking ships?

In any event, I've filed my report, and I'm alone with Cartwright in his office, running him through the analysis of the data we got back from forensics. The tension is so thick I could cut it with a knife, but right now, it's just mundane casework.

"...but we're only presuming it's a case of secondary-infection from something more serious. And from what we can tell, Lemming is possibly still out there, potentially spreading this malware," I add, concluding my report.

Cartwright gives me a cool look. “And this is based on information you got from a convicted felon?”

I bristle at that. “I got it from one of the other AIs, who I contacted through one of the CI’s used by this department.”

“Former CI. As far as I’m aware, this 'Sparrow' hasn’t assisted us in nearly two years. Now she’s volunteering to help the cops? What’s her motive and involvement?”

I lick my lips. “I pinged her from the contact list of the missing entity. She voluntarily provided information helpful to my investigation.”

“Was this before or after you slept with her?”

The words are delivered in an even, conversational tone, but my world screeches to a halt. Shit, shit, SHIT. “Captain… that wasn’t…” I start.

“Were you aware she was recruited involuntarily as a CI as part of a plea bargain for six felony level code violations?”

I swallow hard. “I… was aware of the incident with the shuttle…”

“And you linked with her. An unfiltered link. Have you heard of a honey-pot, Lieutenant Cruz?” His words are soft, but I’m trapped. A bug in a glass. Sweat beads on the back of my neck.

“With respect, Sir, Sparrow wouldn’t-“

“Lie to you? Use you? Gain access to secure systems through you?”

My mouth goes dry. She wouldn't. “My judgment… might not have been-“

“You’re suspended, Lieutenant.” I gasp as the secure Code Enforcement icons drop instantly from my overlay. In a blink, I’m a civilian. “Effective immediately. Please turn in your equipment.”

I blink, looking down at the taser and stun stick on my belt. I've worn them so long I've forgotten they're there. I take a deep breath and set my jaw as I pull them off my hip and place them on Cartwrights desk. This can't be happening. “To be clear, are you suspending me for fraternizing with a convicted felon? Or because I slept with a former confidential informant?”

“Neither. This isn’t disciplinary, it’s medical. I’m pulling you from active status for suspected neural instability.

“Neural instability? Because I slept with Sparrow?”

“No, because you have a diagnosed disability incompatible with the performance of your duties. I pulled your med file.”

“What? You had no right!”

“I have every right, especially given your misconduct. You were diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder, social anxiety, and major depression. From your file, it’s clear you refused treatment for any of these conditions.”

“I am treating. Cognitive behavioral therapy, endorphin doping-.

“You refused any neural sculpting or receptor resequencing. You could have solved this in an afternoon. Instead, you’re putting patches on a hull breach day by day.”

“I don’t want some neuron-jockey rewiring my brain.”

The Captain looks baffled at my words. “That’s crazy. You have a head full of augments.”

“But they don’t change how I think!” I clench my fists, feeling a bead of sweat slide down my neck. “My mind is who I am. Expanding my memory, linking to the exonet, cranking my augments’ processing speeds up or down? Those are just tools for me to use as I choose, when I choose. Changing the way I think, the way my brain processes its own identity, changes who I am. It’s a complicated way of killing myself, so someone else can walk off in my meatsuit. I won’t do that.”

“Then maybe you need to find a new profession. I’m pulling you from active status until you find a permanent solution for your disability. You’re not fit for duty. Appeal to the board if you want, but you’ll have to disclose everything on a public submission, for an open hearing. It’s your call.” He shrugs. “Keep sleeping with the felon if you like, by all means.”

***

“El Tee, wait!” I hear Brent call out, but I’m already stalking out of the building and I’m sure as hell not waiting for him. “El Tee! Cruz!” I hear his heavy gate rushing to catch up. “I just heard-“

I whip around and Brent rocks back on his heels at the sight of my face. “Had to go running to the Captain, huh? Tell him you caught me and Sparrow? Did Cartwright order you to spy on me, or did you volunteer?” His mouth works soundlessly for a moment. “Want to throw me in the airlock without a helmet too, Sergeant?”

His eyes are wide. “El Tee, it ain’t like that! I didn’t say squat; it was radio-silence from me.”

“Vacuum-sucking bullshit!”

“Mel, look at me.” I meet his eyes. They look sincere, for all their unsettling appearance. “If I was gonna bring something to the Captain, I’d tell you and give you the chance to come forward first.”

“Then who?”

“I honestly dunno El Tee. But it wasn’t me; Sparrow’s good people, just made some mistakes. She ain’t a bad chip on the board, and I got no issue if you and her wanna knock boots.”

I let that settle for a moment, before shaking my head. “Well, it doesn’t matter now. Get back to work,” I say, eyes burning.

“El Tee-“

“Get spaced,” I mutter at him as I turn, shaking. I can’t let him see me crying.

***

I manage to get inside my quarters and lock the door before the dam breaks.

Fucking void-spawned, oxide huffing, chrome licking prick! I slam a fist into the bulkhead of my quarters, and the pain blooms in my knuckles. Damned judgmental, ice-humping, tight-assed, vacuum-sucking, back-birthed piece of shit! Tears spill down my cheeks, and a drop of blood slides down my fingers. Fuck you, Cartwright! You probably ended up at Jupiter’s asshole because it was the only one bigger than you!

I beat my hands against the wall, sobbing. I’ve been here less than a week! You couldn’t wait to find a reason to boot me out. No strange fish muddying up your little pond, huh? You were salivating over the chance, you dead-eyed, icy-veined, analogue-brained, fucking waste of protein!

I can’t stop the wracking sobs. I really thought things might be turning around. Things were looking better, at least a little. But I can’t get away from it. Even here, half a solar-system away. Nobody fucking understands, and I can’t talk to Brent about it. Or any of my colleagues. I pull my contact list up, uncertain. No, not Alex, that’s for sure.

Of course, there’s one person I know will listen. Who will care. The only person, really. I ping the Chimera.

***