“Anna,” Holden cut her off gently. “Do you need to say something to me?”
“I do,” she said. “I need to ask you not to tell anyone about Clarissa, and what she did.”
Holden nodded.
“Okay,” he said. “Who’s Clarissa and what did she do?”
The woman tilted her head.
“They didn’t tell you?”
“I don’t think they liked me much,” Holden said. “Is there something I should know?”
“Well, this is awkward. Just after the catastrophe, a girl calling herself Melba attacked your ship,” Anna said. “It’s a long story, but I followed her and tried to help. Your first officer? Naomi? She was hurt in the attack. Badly.”
Holden felt the universe contract. Naomi was hurt while he’d been dicking around with Miller on the station. His hands were shaking.
“Where is she?” he asked, not sure if he meant Naomi or the woman who’d hurt her.
“Naomi’s here. They brought her over to the Behemoth,” Anna said. “She’s in the medical bay right now receiving treatment. They assure me she’ll recover. The rest of your crew is here too. They were hurt earlier. When the speed limit changed.”
“They’re alive?”
“Yes,” Anna said. “They are.”
The mix of relief and sorrow and anger and guilt made the ship seem to spin a little beneath him. Anna put a hand on his arm to steady him.
“Who is this Melba and why did she attack my crew?”
“It’s not her real name. My friend knows her, knows her family. Apparently she has something of an obsession with you. Her name is Clarissa Mao.”
Mao.
The mysterious and powerful Julie. The Julie rebuilt by the protomolecule like his ghostly Miller. The Julie who had hired Cohen the soundman to hack their ship, the Julie he’d sculpted for them later who’d never looked quite right. The Julie who’d been manipulating every detail of his life for the last year just to get them through the gate and down to the station.
It wasn’t Julie at all.
“She’s not well,” Anna was saying, “but I believe that she can be reached. If there’s time. But if they kill her—”
“Where’s Naomi? Do you know where she is?”
“I do,” Anna said. And then, “I’m sorry. I may have been a little wrapped up in my own issue. Can I take you there?”
“Please,” Holden said.
Fifteen minutes later, Holden stepped into a small room in the medical ward that his little family had to themselves. Naomi lay on a gurney, one arm in an inflatable cast. Her face was mottled with half-healed bruises. Tears stung his eyes, and for a moment he couldn’t speak. A killing rage burned in him. This wasn’t a disaster. It wasn’t an accident. Someone had done this to her.
When she saw him, her smile was gentle and amused.
“Hey,” she said. In a moment, he was at her side, holding her good hand, his throat too thick for speech. There were tears in Naomi’s eyes too, but no anger. He was amazed how grateful he was for that.
“Anna,” Naomi said. She looked genuinely pleased to see her, which was a good start. “Jim, you met Anna? She saved me from the psycho with the demolition mech.”
“Saved us too, I guess,” Amos said. “So thanks for that, Red. I guess I owe you one.”
It took Holden a moment to realize that “Red” meant Anna. She seemed surprised by it too.
“I’m happy I was able to help. I’m afraid I was very stoned on pain medication at the time. It could have easily gone the other way.”
“Just take the marker,” Alex said. “Soon as you figure out what Amos is good for, you can trade it in.”
“Asshole,” Amos said, and threw a pillow at him
“Thank you,” Holden said. “If you saved them, I owe you everything.”
“I’m happy I was able to help,” she repeated. To Naomi she said, “You look better than the last time I saw you.”
“Getting better,” Naomi replied, then tested her injured arm with a grimace. “We’ll see how mobile it is once the bones knit up.”
Anna nodded and smiled at her, and then the smile faded.
“Jim? I’m sorry, but I still need to speak to you,” she said to him. “Maybe privately?”
“No. I never thought I’d see these people again. I’m staying right here. If you want to talk to me, go ahead and do it.”
The woman’s eyes shifted between the crewmen. Her expression could have been hope or polite resignation.
“I need something,” she finally said.
“Anything,” Amos answered instantly, sitting up in bed a bit. Holden knew Anna wouldn’t understand how literally Amos meant that. Hopefully a preacher didn’t need anyone murdered.
“If we got it,” Alex added, “it’s yours.” Amos nodded agreement.
Anna directed her answer at Holden. “I’ve talked to the head of security and he’s agreed to keep quiet about Clarissa’s confession. All that she’s done. I need you to keep quiet too.”
Holden frowned, but didn’t reply. Naomi said, “Why?”
“Well,” Anna said. “It’s James Holden. He has a reputation for announcing things—”
“Not why ask us?” Naomi said. “Why don’t you want people to know?”
Anna nodded. “If it gets out, given our current situation, they’ll probably execute her.”
“Good,” Holden said.
“She does kind of have it coming,” Amos added.
Anna held her hands tight in front of her and nodded. She didn’t mean that she agreed, only that she heard them. That she understood.
“I need you to forgive her,” she said. “If nothing else, as a favor to me. You said I could have anything. That’s what I want.”
In the pause, Amos let out a long breath. Alex’s eyebrows were climbing up his forehead.
“Why?” Naomi said again, her voice calm.
Anna pressed her lips thin. “She’s not evil. I believe that Clarissa did what she did out of a love. A sick love, but love. And if she’s dead, there won’t be any hope for her. And I have to hope.”
Holden saw the words wash over Naomi, a sudden pain in her eyes that he didn’t understand. She pulled back her lips, baring her teeth. Her whisper was obscene and so quiet that no one but him could hear it. He squeezed her hand, feeling the bones of her fingers against his own.