She grabbed Kael’s wrist. “We have twelve hours to get to Europa and pull the Event Horizon ’s black box. After that, we won’t exist.”
The screen flickered. A new message appeared in the terminal’s log, addressed directly to her access code: flt cracks
Lena’s breath caught. For three years, she’d believed she was invisible inside the cracks. But the cracks saw everything. And now they were closing. She grabbed Kael’s wrist
Kael whistled. “You touch that, and you’re not an auditor anymore. You’re a target.” A new message appeared in the terminal’s log,
But Lena had already made her choice. She followed the deepest crack yet, a thread that led to a dry-dock on Europa. There, according to the logs, a ship called the Event Horizon had been decommissioned twice—once officially, and once through the cracks. Its cargo hold still showed active life support.