Page 53 of Radiant Exception
“What?” My shoulders dropped with disappointment as I made my way toward the pair.
“He was in a real hurry. Wants to keep the stop short, but had to grab something from the shops.” Ethan shrugged.
“Everything okay?” Jordan asked warily, eyeing me from the side.
I was more unsure than ever as to who I could trust, so I tried to keep things as vague as possible, while still expressing the gravity of the situation.
“I just need to talk to him.” I took a deep breath, looking out the cargo bay doors to the throngs of people outside on the dock. I glanced at Jordan, then Ethan. “If you see him, tell him it’s urgent and it’s not about what he thinks it is.”
Both of them looked at me then, watching in confusion as I hopped down onto the dock. “I’ve got my comm—tell him to ping me, but I’ll try to be back in under an hour if I don’t find him.”
“Don’t be late,” Jordan warned me, but her brow was creased with worry. She didn’t like being out of the loop.
It only took me a few minutes of being jostled around the packed port to realize that I had no hope of finding Vaughn. The port was grimy, too hot with so many bodies around, and the stale, recycled air left a permanent grimace on my face as I made my way through the large docking area toward the marketplace.
I realized maybe I should have stayed on the ship and kept watch by the secret compartment, but I would have had to camp out in the hall to see anyone who tried to access it, which would have been odd in itself and potentially compromised me.
I knew Vaughn was the only person on the ship that I trusted completely, but it occurred to me, there was someone outside of the ship who could help: Darren.
The only problem was that I needed a secure and encrypted communication line on which to speak with him. There was one on the ship. However, only Vaughn and Jordan had access. Vaughn was gone, and Jordan would ask too many questions.
But I was in a port, so there was bound to be one around here somewhere. I just had to find it.
Even the thought of talking to Darren made me feel calmer. He would know what to do. He had the connections to find a way to help us. Because it would have been illogical to go to the port authority, which would have torn theRadiantapart, waylaying our voyage, completely derailing our schedule, and likely arresting Vaughn for questioning, for who knew how long.
No, I needed to be smart about all of this, or it could expose the entire mission, leaving the Phoenix in the wind once again.
I was so distracted by my determination to find a place advertising an encrypted line that it took me a moment to realize that someone was calling my name. Wondering if I was hearing things, I paused and turned, only to come face-to-face with another ghost of my past, my most recent ex: Simon Westcott.
“Simon?” I choked.
“I thought that was you!” He pulled me into a hug, but I was too shocked to return the gesture, instead letting my arms remain limply at my sides. Mistaking my lack of affection for anger, he pulled back, frowning, and said, “Listen, I’m sorry about how things ended between us.”
I just kind of stared at him with my mouth open, unsure how to respond to that.
“But all of that’s in the past, right?” His eyes were hopeful, but he didn’t wait for my response to continue. But that was Simon, constantly asking questions and talking at people, rather than with them. “What the hell have you been up to? How’d you find yourself on Vesta?”
“I—I,” I stuttered, trying to remember what I was doing. “I’m a ship engineer,” I finally sputtered.
He looked exactly the same as the last time I’d seen him three years ago, when he’d broken up with me right before my brother’s funeral. Black hair always perfectly coiffed, blue eyes dazzling in contrast to his darker hair and tanned skin.
Our relationship had been tumultuous, occasionally passionate, and at first mutually beneficial, but when I needed someone to lean on, he’d ducked and run, not wanting to deal with the emotional consequences of a relationship.
And really, looking back, I should have known better. He showed me who he was right away. I’d ignored the red flags, and I had paid the price for my error in judgment.
“What are you doing here?” I finally returned to the present, slowly regaining my wits.
“Diplomatic meeting. Vesta was the mid-point between parties.” He grimaced, looking around.
So he’d finally gotten that cushy embassy job he’d been angling for, and it had led him to Vesta. I held back a chuckle. But then a thought occurred to me.
“Did you arrive on a diplomatic vessel?” I couldn’t refrain from the urgency bleeding into my tone.
“Yeah, why?” His brow furrowed. “Are you okay?”
“I need to speak to someone, and the line on my ship has been compromised,” I lied. “Can I use your ship’s secure line? I’ll only be a moment.”
He studied me for a moment, perhaps trying to assess if I was truly in any danger. “Of course.” He looked down at his comm. “But I’m running late for my meeting. I’ll let my crew know you’re on the way and to allow you entry. My ship,Amity Endeavor, is docked at slip 84B.” He glanced over my shoulder toward the docks. “It’s not far,” he tried to comfort my obvious distress.
