The Elderon Chronicles Box Set by Tarah Benner

Author:Tarah Benner [Benner, Tarah]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Blue Sky Studio, LLC
Published: 2019-03-09T22:00:00+00:00

14

Maggie

Jonah and I don’t speak the whole way back to the barracks. I can sense the fear and dread building inside him, but he moves as though he’s headed to battle.

Buford is gone — flying back to Earth to reunite with Mordecai. He slaughtered four people to make his escape, and the Space Force has hit a dead end.

According to Tripp, they managed to contain most of the bots to a few locations throughout the station, but with BlumBot’s Elderon team lying dead in their offices, Ziva is the only person left who can shut them down.

Before I know it, we’re back in Jonah’s room. I’m sitting on his bed, exhausted and demoralized, while he paces back and forth.

We don’t speak. There’s nothing left to say.

From Mordecai’s perspective, everything went according to plan. Buford was able to infiltrate the Space Force, steal the SPIDER data, and provide the information that Mordecai needed to install the malicious software. He hit a hiccup when Maverick shut down the bots station-wide, but because of me, those bots got another chance at destruction.

I’m the reason those people are dead. If it weren’t for me, Ping and Jonah never would have orchestrated that reboot, and all those people would still be alive.

I try to tell myself that I’m not responsible — that Mordecai would have found another way. But with a little more time, Maverick and BlumBot might have identified the malware. They may have been able to uninstall it completely, saving dozens of innocent lives.

Suddenly Jonah stops moving, and I’m drawn out of my dark train of thought. He doesn’t say a word.

He bends down beside my knees and pulls a dark-green rucksack from under the bed. He goes over to his bureau and opens the drawers, surveying his belongings with a critical eye.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

“Packing.” He doesn’t offer any further explanation. Just “packing” — as if I’m supposed to know what that means.

“Packing for what?”

Jonah shakes open the rucksack and starts transferring clothes to the heavy canvas bag. He takes his fatigues, underwear, and socks — even some civilian clothes that I’ve never seen him wear.

“Are you going somewhere?”

It’s a stupid question. We’re stuck on a space station. There’s nowhere to go.

Jonah doesn’t answer me. He keeps stuffing clothes down into the rucksack, not bothering to keep them in their pristine folded squares.

He empties the top two drawers, and still the rucksack isn’t full. He drops it to the floor, digs around in his sock drawer, and withdraws a generous wad of cash. He sticks this in his rucksack, too, and reaches behind me for the picture of the woman and two little boys.

He handles this photo with extreme reverence and care, as though it’s a priceless historic document. He eases it into a worn manila envelope and slides it into his bag.

“I’m going after Buford.”

“What?”

“Buford,” he repeats, tugging down the drawstring to secure his rucksack. “I’m going to find him.”

“On Earth?” I say dumbly.

“Yep.”

For a minute, I just stare. His response is so absurd that I have the desperate urge to laugh.

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