Chapter 6

Fleur killed the dock lights as soon as the bay doors sealed. In the dark, the Avenger crouched like a dented guard dog and the Ultor hunched behind it like a black hole with arms. Fleur stood on the gantry, wrist terminal already glowing, and didn't look up.

“You’ve got six hours,” she said. “Maybe less. I’ll hide the frames and muddy the trail. Where are you going?”

“Somewhere safe.” Alex jumped down from the Avenger and landed on the greasy deck. “There’s a salvage ward down in the guts of the ring. I know a cabin there.”

Fleur glanced at the young man climbing out of the Ultor. “Take care of him, Summers. He’s the only lead either of us has.”

Then she was gone, and Alex led the way out of the dock bay and into the market.

The salvage market was a maze of prefab corridors and tin-roof stalls selling engine coolant, bootleg stims, and “reclaimed” mech parts. Alex moved through it with his head down, the young man trailing at his shoulder. They passed a stall where a vendor was loudly arguing with a customer over a reactor conduit, and Alex ducked around a stack of cargo crates.

“Hey,” he said, once they were out of earshot. “What’s your name?”

“U-07. That’s what the tank said.”

“That’s not a name. That’s a serial number.” Alex glanced at him. “What did they call you before the tank?”

The young man’s brow furrowed, and the silence stretched.

“I don’t know,” he said at last. “I don’t remember my name. Or why I was in the tank. It’s like there’s a wall in my head. Everything before is just… smoke.”

“And after the smoke?”

“There’s a girl.” His voice went soft. “She was beautiful. I knew her, Alex. I knew her. That’s all I’ve got. Not her name. Not her face. Just that she mattered.”

Alex’s chest tightened. Elena had mattered. Every day for ten years.

A cold draft rolled up from the vent grates, and the young man shivered. The Third Wing plugsuit was cut for a woman’s frame and hung loose on his slim shoulders, doing nothing to keep out the station’s recycled chill. He hugged himself, looking about as comfortable as a lab rat in a snowstorm.

Alex watched him for about three seconds. Then he sidled up to a stall stacked with bright …