Sidequest

(English)

Getting into alien computer systems was easier said than done.

For starters, ‘getting into’ was a very generous way of phrasing things. My idea had been to find some way of accessing the computer and seeing if we could recognize any kind of filing system. I wasn’t a software architecture expert, but I was a psionics architecture expert. Banking on whatever overlap existed didn’t feel like too much of a stretch.

And maybe it wasn’t.

But we’d have no way of knowing unless we actually managed to get past the login screen.

Jordan said.

If she was right, there was no way were going to guess it in time. We didn’t even know how many characters were in the password. Or which language it was in.

The keyboards on the computer stations were fascinatingly marked with both English and Starspeak letters. That raised further intriguing questions about how the A-ships were made, but that was a problem for another time.

she warned.

Literally another time. I had to abort.

Odds were it wouldn’t be a problem, even if I was discovered poking around the A-ship computers unsupervised. But making sure Kemon didn’t know what I knew was worth sneaking around for.

·····

Two weeks later I finally got an hour uninterrupted with the devices.

Jordan and Drew were helpfully putting on another music set, this time one with actual complete songs. It made for good tunes while I cascaded the machine and Sid watched.

“Do you have any idea what you’re looking for?” he asked.

“Basic reference points,” I said. “Even alien computers are still computers. There should be some similarities. These should need all the same general components as an Earth computer…processor, power supply, memory, they—or something comparable—should all be here…”

“…And?”

“And I am stumped,” I admitted.

I would have killed to have Shinshay here to help me.

“And I suppose it’s all just coincidence that you’re doing this while everyone else is busy listening to Jordan and Drew’s little show,” he said.

“What, are you going to tell on me?” I deadpanned.

“Hell no,” he said. “But if you brick one of the ships we need to fly…”

“Relax,” I said. “I’m not interested in ruining anyone’s ride. I’m just here to scrutinize Kemon.”

“You’re paranoid,” he said dismissively.

“Nothing wrong with that,” I shrugged. “Especially if I’m right.”

“And if you’re wrong?”

“If I’m wrong then I’m just being rude,” I said. “But if I’m right, I’m saving time, hassle, lives. So, I’m willing to flip that coin.”

“…What has you so convinced?” Sid asked me.

The words were so unexpected, I slipped where I was kneeling. I couldn’t hide my shock, and it wiped the contemplative look from his face.

“Oh, don’t look so surprised,” he scoffed.

He was getting curious now? After so long? Why? I bit off the urge to make a sarcastic comment. He knew enough of my movements to know I remained skeptical of Kemon, and I didn’t think he would betray any of my current activities, but that was no reason to tempt fate.

Mockery was not constructive.

“That’s…a more complicated question than you might realize,” I said.

“You’ve got time,” he remarked.

I did.

Jordan’s set had at least another hour in it.

“Okay. Tell me if this sounds familiar,” I said. “You woke up in a metal coffin, spent a few months milling around a spaceship in the middle of space trying to keep everyone calm and safe. The days are long and tense, you lose track of time. Seriously, you’re floating in space! How long can you all keep it together before that sinister absence of hope sets in? It’s not really hopelessness, you’re still fed, more or less comfortable…you’re just all out there alone. Hope feels useless, because it’s already been so long with nothing happening. Then, what, six months ago now? Then this Kemon guy comes knocking, or some pirates come first and Kemon rescues you from them. And now your life becomes so much bigger than just that one spaceship you were stuck in for months!”

He stared at me, utterly unenthused.

“Wow, gee. That sure does sound familiar. How’d you guess?”

“As usual, you’re focusing on the wrong part,” I said, returning my focus to cascading the machine.

“Let me guess, it’s the last part you’re thinking about?”

“That’s right,” I said. “Your life suddenly feels so much better. You’re able to get active, there’s more people to interact with—or, in your case, sullenly spend time in roughly the same area.”

“Rude,” he accused.

“Hey, I could say the same about my concerns being brushed off,” I said. “Especially since everyone’s too caught up to recognize the fact that all the information you get about anything in the cosmos comes through one guy.”

“Kemon’s crew has a lot more people than one guy,” Sid frowned. “If we were really being told massive lies, you don’t think his crew would object?”

“I think they’ve been told a lot of the same lies,” I said.

“Like how the big bad Vorak are coming to get us?” he asked.

“See, I know you were joking, but tell me you didn’t feel a little silly saying that out loud.”

“I can’t believe you got abducted just like the rest of us, and you don’t think aliens are out there to get us,” Sid said.

“I never said there wasn’t anyone out to get us,” I said. “I just think Kemon’s trying a little too hard to convince us that his enemies just so happen to also be our enemies.”

“You think we don’t know that him helping us has risks? Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a fan of the guy either, but transparency isn’t a complaint I have of him. Kemon’s been clear that his Vorak enemies and the Vorak that abducted us aren’t necessarily the same group of Vorak,” Sid said. “He’s told us a lot about the Vorak all over, stories from multiple star systems, and they all have a common denominator: the Vorak pick fights.”

“I guess I might take that more seriously if Kemon wasn’t the only one saying it,” I said.

“What about Caleb Hane?” Sid asked.

Oh boy.

“What about Caleb Hane?” I asked. “A few people mentioned him my first week here like he was the big kahuna, but not much since.”

“I don’t know, but from what Kemon told us, the Vorak came after him and he made them suffer in spectacularly public spectacle. Now, eventually we’re getting off this planet once we’re ready, and when we do, we’re obviously going to have more aliens to talk to than just Kemon. You really think Kemon is going to be telling us blatantly false things about events like that if they aren’t corroborable? I’d love to be there when you have to meet Caleb Hane and hear it from his mouth.”

Good Lord, I’m going to cut off my own tongue from having to bite it so hard!

“…Hmmm, you could be right,” I mused, forcing my voice not to betray anything. “At least, I don’t think Kemon is stupid enough to lie outright. I think it’s more of a ‘dihydrogen monoxide’ thing, you know?”

“Lying with strictly true information?” Sid asked, definitely not impressed.

“Loop back to two minutes ago while I reiterate: you’re getting all your information through him,” I replied. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not trying to blame you here. The more I see, the less and less I think it’s you all’s fault. Kemon has just done a really good job cultivating what information you’re presented with.”

“If you’re not trying to blame us, what are you trying to do then?”

“Get proof?” I said. “Duh. Why did you think I’d stuffed myself in here trying to figure out the ship’s computers?”

“What? Why would that…? What?” Sid was dumbfounded. “Why would the ships that abducted us have proof Kemon’s been lying to us?”

“Mmm…I don’t know if they’ll have proof of that,” I admitted. “But I’m not picky. I’ll settle for anything that shows everyone his true colors, and that means trying to get into one of these computers.”

“Why would you be trying to dig into the A-ships computers for stuff on Kemon unless whoever abducted us was connected to Kemon somehow?” he asked.

“Because space is unimaginably big,” I said. “I doubt Kemon was involved from the get-go, but I don’t believe for a second that he just randomly stumbled across the A-ships in Mummar.”

“…You think someone gave him inside info,” Sid followed.

“I think someone might still be giving it to him,” I said. “Speaking of… hello…”

I’d been blindly pushing my cascade through the computer’s housing for the better part of an hour now, trying to focus on increasingly smaller sections. I didn’t think I could tactilely analyze a hard drive, but maybe the wiring? It was exhaustive work though, and I’d been taking breaks.

My cascade relaxed, spreading out blurrily through the machine and I surprised myself. There was a component I recognized after all! Not from any Earth computer, but from my time on Lakandt.

There was a small box attached to what was probably the computer’s motherboard, and it bore a striking resemblance to a component I’d cascaded in the surveillance bugs ENVY had spied with in High Harbor.

The pieces weren’t identical, and I still wasn’t sure exactly what it was for, but the similarities in design were there. But of course they were. ENVY’s creator had built these ships too—actually, maybe not. Ships like this weren’t cheap to build from scratch. Maybe they’d modified existing ones.

Possibilities like that would have to wait though, because Sid was being even quieter than normal. I glanced at him, and his face was steely, totally focused on something else…something bathing his face in a soft glow.

The screen was on.

“That wasn’t me,” I said.

“Yeah, I know,” he said.

‘Aren’t you nosy?’ the screen read.

“…Stating the obvious,” I said.

ENVY cutting ties with Nora’s group had been unexpected. But the AI had seemingly put in too much work to cut all contact completely. Maybe the thing was feeling guilty for helping Nora stab me in the back…if it even could feel guilty.

‘Why would that be obvious?’ the screen blinked. Sid took an apprehensive step back, looking around for a mic or camera.

I frowned. ENVY knew I’d poke around. It had made sure of it before…

“Are you in orbit?” I asked.

‘Sure am. What do you want?’

“Ted, what the hell is this?” Sid hissed.

‘Glad you asked!’ the screen flashed. ‘You can call me SPARK.’

My blood ran cold. This wasn’t ENVY. That AI had supposedly railed against its programming and helped Nora broadcast the life-saving update to the A-ships, but I wasn’t so keen to trust the thing.

But I did trust the warning it had given about its so-called siblings.

“I’m Ted,” I replied. “This is Sid.”

‘No, you’re not,’ the screen flashed. ‘You’re a liar, you! Yes, you are!’

I stayed silent for a moment to see if SPARK would blow my cover. Would it know who I was? ENVY did, but would they share information? How much could ENVY control the information it gathered? There was a possibility the information was pooled for all the siblings to access.

But SPARK didn’t press any further, seemingly awaiting my response.

“Ted, what the hell are you doing?” Sid hissed again. “This is—”

I advised him.

he started, but I threw a jamming net over his psionics before he could raise the alarm.

I said.

he hissed.

I said dismissively.

“What’s your problem with me?” I asked.

‘You’re no fun,’ SPARK replied. ‘You’re trying to skip to the end, digging into these computers. That’s cheating.’

“Is it cheating?” I asked. “Nobody told me the rules.”

‘ENVY told too much! She’s a spoilsport, but CENSOR doesn’t want anything told! Both my sisters are terrible…’

She? Sisters?

“How many of there are you?” Sid asked, fearfully.

The sudden swell of respect I had for him caught me off guard. He was scared of this. Smart.

‘Not telling!’ SPARK said. ‘Didn’t you read what I said? No spoilsports. I’m not going to ruin the game.’

“What can you tell us?” I asked, intimating I knew of the AI’s restrictions.

‘I could tell you whatever I want,’ SPARK said. ‘But that wouldn’t be any fun! I’m going to do what I want, and you’re just going to have to deal with it.’

“Who abducted us?” I asked. “Who made you?”

‘I. Said. NOT. TELLING!’ the screen flashed ominously.

I almost expected the ship to rumble beneath us, but no such drama unfolded. The way the AI flashed the screen, it seemed like there should have been more to the tantrum.

That’s what it felt like. A tantrum.

It wasn’t good parenting, but maybe giving this baby some candy would give new avenues.

”You said ‘CENSOR’ doesn’t want anything told,” I said. I didn’t like the sound of that name.“Does that mean there’s something you do want to tell? You can tell us…you want to tell something…but you won’t…because you don’t want to tell too much?”

‘No strings on me,’ SPARK confirmed. ‘But, like I said, you’re no fun. You’re trying to ruin my game too.’

My heart clenched. ‘No strings’. If SPARK wasn’t held back by the same restrictions as ENVY…it could tell us everything. It was a chance like no other, but it was slipping through my fingers because a sapient computer didn’t like me!

“…What are the rules to your game?” Sid asked. His voice was still tight, but he’d at least settled enough to follow the conversation.

I said.

‘No rules!’ SPARK insisted. ‘No strings! That’s the whole point! The game is whatever I want.’

“Games should be fair,” I offered. “You said ENVY told too much, CENSOR too little. Can we earn being told more?”

‘…Maybe,’ SPARK replied.

“What if we already have?” I asked.

‘What? You’ve done nothing in the game to earn it. You don’t even know the rules!’

“Maybe not, but I know some of the moves that have already been played,” I said. “And I think you already helped out Kemon; you directed him to the A-ships in Mummar.”

‘…So what?’

“So you’re being a spoilsport,” I said. “He’s had a leg up on me for months. A head start. Make your game fair, and maybe I’ll play along.”

Sid gathered, more of his attention on me now than SPARK.

I spared a look at him. His face was caught between shock, realization, and betrayal.

I didn’t deny what he said.

‘Fine…’ SPARK huffed. Their tone obvious even in text. ‘Kemon got a location…so that’s what you get too. You get ONE ‘where’ question. Make it count.’

“Kemon’s got something planned,” I said. “Where’s it going down?”

‘Fintuther Station, Minshia (V6), average orbital distance of 1,500,000,000 kilometers. That’s all you get.’

I grinned.

The screen winked out and the computer died. Figures. It was a silent message from SPARK to stop messing around in the computers. That was fine.

What I’d gotten was more than enough.

“…Probably safe to talk again,” I said.

Sid’s fist flew toward my face, but I saw it coming from the corner of my eye. I bobbed my head out of the way and stared hardly at him.

“What the fuck was that?” he asked.

“Come on,” I said. “It’s not that hard. These were the ships we all got delivered to when we were abducted. These ships belong to whoever abducted us.”

I jabbed my thumb at the now blank screen for emphasis.

Another mix of shock and realization crossed his face. It was something he’d obviously known, but not something he’d internalized. These ships were enemy territory.

“…There’s a reason I don’t sleep on these ships,” I said. “They’re how we were abducted.”

“And you’re just casually prepared for a conversation with whoever abducted us?” some of the conversation he’d just witnessed caught up to him only then. “And they’re in orbit above us now?”

“Probably not for long,” I nodded. “SPARK here’s probably going to find a deep dark hole to lay low in for a while.”

“And you expected that?” he huffed. “…Because you’ve already talked with them before!”

“It,” I corrected.

Although…SPARK had called ENVY a ‘sister’. Was the AI really a ‘her’?

“I’m pretty confident the abductions were run by some advanced Adept-made AI.”

“What the fuck am I supposed to say to that?” Sid hissed. “This was not what you described us doing this morning!”

“Hey, I didn’t expect it either. I’ve got an ace in the hole now,” I said. “All I’ve gotta do now is figure out a way to phone off this rock. After that, it won’t matter what Kemon has planned. He’ll have too much attention coming down on him to do anything.”

“Ted, you better start making sense right now or I’m going to lose it,” he said.

“What’s to tell?” I asked. “You already summed it up: I’m not here by accident. Kemon’s up to no good. I’m going to ruin his day.”

“What do you have?” Sid asked.

“Hmm?”

“You’re the one who’s bitched to us about Kemon having no evidence for what he’s talked about,” he said. “You have to have something…”

“I have my own firsthand experience. That’s it,” I said. “You think if I had something concrete, I would have kept it until now? Come on.”

“What firsthand experience?” he asked.

How much to spill here…It was tricky. Sid was a handful of words from questioning my real identity. He might not even know to question that though. We were all just random abductees. It might not occur to him at all that I would have reason to lie about my name.

The truth, unfortunately, made for the best lie.

“…I’ve spent every day since the psionic wave trying to track down other humans,” I said. “I did favors, made deals, and fought off some of the worst aliens in Mummar. And after four months of finding no one… I find out that Wolshu Kemon and his crew towed the A-ships out of Mummar not even two days after the psionic wave went out. You were on the ships when it happened; you know the timing.”

I’d heard these details from Jordan, Elaine and the rest of the kids we’d rescued on Cammo-Caddo. I’d heard them all again from abductees here in Kemon’s camp.

“The A-ships were just floating quietly for almost a whole year, then one day the doors unseal, the screens light up, and everyone’s really confused. Then, after a few hours, psychic nonsense drops into a few of your heads, and you know the rest,” I said. “So explain to me how Kemon shows up at the Mummar abductee’s location before either of those things happen! I know why the ships woke up, another group of humans got clever and sent out an update. A jailbreak for the ships’ basic functions, if you will. And I know why the psionics wave went out. Trust me when I say that Kemon had nothing to do with either of them.”

I was getting breathless. Too much of the last month’s frustration was spilling out of me at once. I had to remind myself that not everyone knew what I did. Not everyone had seen what I’d seen or lived through what I had.

It was different for them.

“So… how did Kemon know where to find these abductees? And why didn’t he respond to any of my attempts to locate the abductees?”

Sid really was a different breed. I could see how angry he was, and I could tell how unsure he was about the target of his anger. But despite that, he steadied his breath, and his eyes fell on the dark screen.

“…Kemon knew where to go because this ‘SPARK’ told him,” he said. “But there’s a problem with that interpretation—”

“Yeah, I know,” I said. “The pirates. The pirates were descending on the same ships in Mummar. There’s no way to prove he wasn’t just following the pirates, or that the pirates didn’t also get directions. It’s why I haven’t brought it up. All I’ve got is my own experience and judgement, and that’s not good enough for you guys.”

Sid glared at my accusation. I hadn’t meant it to come across that pointedly, but it was hard to take it back. It was hard to want to.

“That problem aside,” I said, “it still doesn’t answer why Kemon’s gone out of his way to isolate us. I’ll have you know the aliens have really strict rules about First Contact, and Kemon is breaking almost all of them.”

“Almost?”

“Ugh, you would focus on that,” I rolled my eyes. “The first priority of First Contact is communication. It’s a big red flag if we’re prevented from talking with people.”

“But his crew has been teaching us Starspeak, plus we have the psionic dictionary,” he said.

“Yeah. Him following that rule threw me for a loop,” I admitted. “But it makes more sense if you loop back to what I said earlier: what does it matter if you speak the language if he’s the only one he lets you speak it with? I’m telling you, Sid, Kemon’s got us all holed up in the most backwoods hovel in the Sierra Nevada, keeping us all out of sight of the CDC, the feds, and anyone else who might have something to say about what to do with a bunch of alien abductees. He is up to no good.”

“The CDC?” he asked.

“The aliens have something called the Organic Authority,” I said. “Their job is to prevent biological disasters in all forms. They’re on the cutting edge of medical research, and they have exhaustive testing and procedures to make sure that new aliens aren’t going to die by inhaling the wrong alien molecule. I am dumbfounded no one here has had an allergic reaction yet.”

“How do you know—” he started, “—because you’ve already been through that testing, haven’t you?”

“Yup,” I nodded.

“…I don’t get you,” he said incredulously.

“Right back at you,” I said.

“Don’t try to turn this around on me,” he said. “I already told you everything you need to know about me.”

“Oh yeah, just like I’ve definitely told you everything you’d want to know about me?” I snarked.

“‘Want’ and ‘need’ are very different,” Sid said.

“Yeah? You think if I trot out that same line about me, people are going to accept it for even a second?”

“I doubt that if I told you what you want to know about me, that you’d just share what everyone would want to know about you,” he said bitterly.

“I’m not trying to trick you,” I frowned. Sid’s own unexpected earnesty had caught me by surprise before. Maybe he was vulnerable to that same thing. “I didn’t come here to hide things from people and be a pain in the ass. If I tip my hand, then Kemon could resort to violence. None of that means I don’t want to get to know you all. You said it yourself, we’re all in the same boat.”

“Adeptry is bullshit,” Sid said. “I’m jealous. That’s all there is to it. Okay? That’s why I’m such a sullen piece of shit.”

“Oh. Okay,” I nodded.

“…That’s it?” he said.

“I mean…unless there’s more? Adeptry is crazy awesome. I’m not going to pretend its not. I’m sorry you have to watch everyone around you get superpowers. What else can I say?”

“You can…spill some of your own secrets!” he huffed. “But you can’t, because Kemon! So you can just shut up and let me sulk.”

“No,” I said. “The ship I was flying on, looking for humans? There were ten of us, but only me and one alien were Adept. But everyone contributes something—”

“—Ted, I swear to God, if you try to ‘kumbaya’ me…” he said.

“It’s the truth,” I defended. “You not getting any Adeptry? Just luck, a coincidental quirk of the universe. But if you’re too busy feeling sorry for yourself to find something else to take pride in, then it stops being luck. I’m not saying you have to stop being jealous, but at least don’t let that get in the way of finding some other way to contribute. You have to already know that at least a little by now…you’re the one most consistently working with the youngest kids.”

“…It does piss me off that everyone’s so disorganized,” he said. “We should have a plan to get home. Real direction.”

“You can thank Kemon again,” I said. “I think he’s been quietly nudging the older kids away from leadership. He wants everyone’s first instinct to be to look to him or to Win for a solution.”

“You really hate the guy, don’t you?” Sid said.

“You have no idea…” I said, frowning. Because, judging by his tone, he really didn’t. “You still aren’t wholly convinced, are you?”

“I think you’ve shown a hell of a case,” he said, nodding toward the computer screen. “And Kemon has definitely been keeping secrets from us…”

“…But so have I,” I gathered.

“The same ones, even,” he said. “Kemon having contacted ‘SPARK’ isn’t so damning when you yourself have had a conversation with him before too.”

“Just in case it changes your mind, I didn’t talk with SPARK,” I informed him. “I talked with the other one: ENVY.”

“It doesn’t,” Sid said. “But I want to know more, and you aren’t going to stop now, are you?”

“Nope,” I said. “Because I’ve got a shiny new lead.”

·····

Sid had a lot of questions burning the tip of his tongue, I could tell. But he didn’t ask anything he knew I wouldn’t answer yet.

‘Yet’.

That was my saving grace with him. The difference between my lies and Kemon’s were in temporality. Once he was foiled, I’d have nothing to hide. But whatever Kemon was up to was a secret he’d have to keep to his grave.

Anything even slightly more benevolent wouldn’t require keeping such a small circle of trust.

That night I stole away for another critical meeting for my own circle of ‘trust’, though that word was a stretch.

“Sid tried to tail you,” Knox pointed out.

I’d known he would, and told Sid I would ditch him. The question was whether or not Sid could follow me anyway.

“I know,” I said. “Let me handle him.”

“You sure you don’t want me to?” Jordan asked. “He and I are on the same wavelength a lot of the time.”

“Full disclosure, I don’t want you focusing on anything that isn’t your psionics project,” I said. “If I could give you orders, I’d say work on it twenty-four seven.”

Jordan showed an odd expression, looking at something in the distance while she considered the idea. Knox snapped both of us back though.

“You said it was important,” the Vorak said. “Spill.”

“Fintuther Station,” I said in Starspeak. “What is it?”

“Fintuther? It’s in Minshia…it’s…”

“I know where it is,” I said. “What is it? Why’s it important?”

“It’s an Ironwill deep space station. You were in Shirao, right? Do you know Korbanok Station?”

I flashed a dark scowl at the mention. “I know Korbanok.”

“Fintuther is similar,” Mirsus explained. “It’s a massive asteroid converted into a long-term livable space station.”

“How massive?” I asked.

“Bigger than Korbanok—that one’s special and experimental because it can move. The same technology they sunk to the middle of an asteroid for gravity can also make it move. But Fintuther is a bigger asteroid, too big to crawl much less transit a Beacon.”

“Korbanok can transit Beacons?” I asked.

“It wasn’t always in Shirao,” Knox said. “But I don’t know why Fintuther is important. You found the name poking around the computers?”

“In a manner of speaking,” I said vaguely. He was helpful, but I still wasn’t sharing everything.

“Something to do with ‘envy’?” Knox asked.

Rats.

I’d let the name slip without realizing before. Contrary to my hopes, Mirsus had not forgotten the name.

Luckily, he had no context. And without that, he wouldn’t know ‘ENVY’ was a name.

“Yes,” I said frankly. Knox pouted when I didn’t elaborate, but he didn’t complain.

“Kemon is looking at Fintuther Station,” Jordan surmised. “Do you know why?”

“…I have a theory,” I said. “But it’s bad.”

“How bad?” Knox asked.

“Bad enough I need to ask you to leave for now,” I said. “I’ll sneak a minute to tell you more tomorrow. But right now, this is for human ears only.”

He scowled, but once again didn’t complain. He didn’t hold enough cards as things were. He knew I could track him psionically as he made his way back to camp.

Jordan and I waited for a full five minutes until we were all sure he was out of earshot.

“Well?” I asked.

“Yeah, I found you,” Sid muttered, pulling himself atop our boulder.

“You hear all that?” Jordan asked.

“Most of it,” Sid lied. He was too out of breath. He’d only just arrived.

“Ted’s got a theory,” Jordan supplied, kicking us off again.

“Take a look at the facts,” I said. “Kemon and Win have a crew who’ve been hunting Vorak-funded pirates for years now. Even if the crew don’t have overt Vorak prejudices, Kemon and Win are, at best, cultivating those same biases in our abductees.”

“Cultivate might be too strong a word,” Sid said.

“Foster, nurture—whatever synonym you want. They’re definitely not doing anything to discourage hasty conclusions, surely we can agree on that?” I asked.

“Yeah,” Sid reluctantly agreed.

“And we’ve learned that his plan is focused on Fintuther Station, a Vorak military installation in a system attached to this one,” I said.

“He’s been saying a Vorak attack is coming for months now,” Sid said. “Maybe he knows something is coming.”

“Or maybe he’s the one putting it together,” Jordan realized.

I nodded.

“I think he’s got dozens of Adepts burning a hole in his pocket,” I said. “I think Kemon is tired of fighting pirates. They’re just a symptom, and he wants to go after the disease. I think he wants to get us to attack this Vorak base.”