“Havelock,” Murtry said, “I have a call I need you to take.”
His voice was so calm and controlled, Havelock felt his breath go shallow. It was the sound of trouble, and his mind clutched at the first fear that came. The Rocinante and Jim Holden, the UN mediator, was about ten hours from the end of its deceleration burn. Almost here. If something had gone wrong with it…
“Something happened downstairs,” Murtry said. “I’ve got Cassie on the horn, and I need you to keep her from melting down while I talk to the captain.”
“Is it bad?”
“Yeah. Take the call. Be the calm one. You can do that?”
“Sure, boss,” Havelock said. “Cool as November, smooth as China silk.”
“Good man.”
The picture froze for a fraction of a second, and then Cassie was looking out at him. For a year and a half, they’d been on the ship together, part of the same team, familiar if not intimate. He’d been aware vaguely when she’d struck up a romance with Aragão and then when they’d broken it off. He thought of her as a friend because he didn’t think about her much at all.
In the image, her skin had an ashy color, and her eyes were lined with red.
“Cassie,” Havelock said, his voice falling into the comforting register he’d trained for in the hostage negotiation workshop he’d taken after the Ceres riots. “Hear things are a little rough down there.”
Cassie’s laugh shifted the camera, shaking her on the screen like an earthquake. She looked away, and then back.
“They’re gone,” she said. In the pause afterward, her gaze shifted like she was looking for something. More words to say, maybe. “They’re gone.”
“Okay,” he said. A thousand different questions pressed forward, wanting to be asked. What happened? Who’s missing? What happened? But Murtry hadn’t asked him to find out, and Cassie didn’t need an interrogator. “Murtry’s talking to the captain.”
“I know,” Cassie said. “We had a lead. We found a hideout. Reeve took them out. I stayed back with the witness.”
“Is the witness there?”
“She’s sleeping now,” Cassie said. “I’m a security systems consultant, Havelock. I’m supposed to be figuring out optimal shift schedules and building the surveillance network. I don’t shoot people. That’s not my fucking pay grade.”
Havelock smiled, and Cassie smiled with him, a tear leaking out the side of her eye. For a moment they were both laughing, the horror and the fear transforming into something like exasperation. Something a little bit safer.
“I’m scared as hell,” Cassie said. “If they come for me too, I won’t be able to stop them. I’ve got the office locked down, but they could cut through the walls. They could blow the place up. I don’t know why we thought it was a good idea to be down here at all. After they blew the heavy shuttle, we should have hauled our butts back up the well and stayed there. We should have dropped rocks on them from fucking orbit.”
“The thing now is keeping you and the witness safe.”
“And how are you going to do that?” Cassie asked. Her voice was a challenge, but one that wanted to be answered. You can’t and Tell me that you can all at the same time.
“We’re working on that,” Havelock said.
“I don’t even have food in here,” Cassie said. “It’s all at the commissary. I’d kill for a sandwich. I really would. I’d kill for it.”
Havelock tried to remember what they’d said in the workshop about talking with people who’d been traumatized. There was a list. Four things. The mnemonic was BEST. He couldn’t remember what any of the letters stood for.
“So,” he said. “I bet you’re pretty freaked out right now.”
“I’m not holding it together.”
“Yeah, it feels like that, but actually, you’re doing good just by not making it worse. That’s how people usually get it wrong when things go to hell. Overreact, escalate. All goes pear-shaped. You’re holed up and talking to us. Means you’ve got good instincts for this.”
“You’re making that shit up,” Cassie said. “I’m just this side of going catatonic.”
“Stay on this side, and that makes it a win. Seriously, though, you’re doing the right thing. Stay cool, and we’ll get on top of this. I know it feels like it’s all going to hell, but you’re going to be all right.”
“If I’m not —”
“You will be.”
“But if I’m not. If, right?”
“Okay,” Havelock said. “If.”
“Do me a favor. There’s a guy back on Europa. Hihiri Tipene. He’s a food engineer.”
“Okay.”
“Tell him I said I was sorry.”
She thinks she’s going to die, Havelock thought, and she may be right. The bright, coppery taste of fear flooded his mouth. The locals were killing RCE security, and she was the last one standing. He didn’t know anything about the state of play down there. For all he knew, there might be three tons of industrial explosive about to turn Cassie into a memory. Any moment, she could die, and he could watch her die and not be able to do anything about it.
“You’re going to tell him yourself,” he said gently. “And after this, it won’t even be scary.”
“I don’t know. You’ve never met Hihiri. Promise me?”
“Sure,” Havelock said. “I’ve got your back on this one.”
Cassie nodded. Another tear streaked down her cheek. He didn’t feel like he was doing a great job of keeping her from meltdown.
A tiny inset window appeared on the feed. Murtry’s security override.
“Hey there, Cass,” Murtry said. “I’ve talked to Captain Marwick, and we’re dropping a team to you. It’s going to take us a couple hours, though. Your job is to keep that civilian safe.”
Cassie’s voice trembled when she spoke, but it didn’t break. “There are forty of our people on the planet and two hundred of them. I’m one person. I can’t protect everyone.”
“You don’t have to,” Murtry said. “I’ve sent the lockdown notice. I’m coordinating the science teams. That’s on me. Your job is Doctor Okoye. You just keep her breathing until we’re down there, okay?”