★ Evelyn ★

  Evelyn briefly considered General Moore’s offer, but it wasn’t much of a debate. She’d made up her mind before he even left the room.

  She had no love for her employer, and the more she thought about leaving, the more each moment spent there weighed upon her. She’d been content to ignore these things when presented with few other options, but over the course of the week, she realized the full extent of the shadow she’d been living under.

  On Saturday, several men started a fight in the middle of the Ice Palace’s dining room. Drinks were spilled, chairs were thrown, and she nearly caught a punch to the face—a hard one, intended for a grown man—that missed by an inch.

  On Sunday, a patron decided they’d rather not leave a tip. An hour of her time went completely uncompensated, but because they’d paid their bar tab, the manager let them off with a stern warning.

  On Monday, she lay in bed staring at the ceiling, wondering if she’d rather die than begin her next shift.

  On Tuesday, one of the girls got a black eye when someone threw a bottle at the stage during her performance. That’s what happened sometimes when patrons couldn’t afford a private dance.

  Wednesday was quiet. She had time to sit and think, and she found herself planning for her departure during idle moments when her thoughts wandered. Any doubts remaining in her mind had thoroughly dissipated.

  The closer she got to the end of her shift that night, the more time seemed to slow to a crawl. At 1:00 the bar closed, and at 2:00 the last few patrons were asked to leave. The manager began his usual closing routine, and before long, Evelyn found herself in an empty dining room. The moment had finally arrived.

  She made her way upstairs, but she didn’t sleep that night. She waited until the early morning hours, long after her roommate had gone to bed, then quietly gathered everything she owned, including the bag of gold beneath the floor panel, and tucked it into the backpack she’d arrived with five years prior. It didn’t take long, and when she was done, she surveyed the tiny room she’d called home for half a decade.

  She was struck by how little attachment she felt to this place. With her meager belongings gone, there was no evidence she’d ever been there, and she knew that whoever they found to be her replacement would be sleeping here soon enough—probably within a matter of days. Nothing remained for her here, and the only thing that gave her even the briefest moment of pause was her coworkers. Leaving the Ice Palace wasn’t hard, but saying goodbye was, so she simply elected not to do it. Instead she made her way downstairs, stopping only to slip a solitary gold piece beneath Drake’s door, and crept past the night crew who were still resetting the bar and cleaning up after the prior evening. She walked with quiet, deliberate steps, and nobody noticed as she slipped through the side door and left for good.

  ? ? ? ? ?

  Men like General Moore were nothing new to Evelyn, and she didn’t find him intimidating in the least, but the Europa Station itself was a different matter. She’d rarely ventured beyond the Alley, and as she entered the shuttle bay and approached the designated meeting point, she was struck by the stark difference between the small part of this place she’d called home and the sections that lay within the Corps’ reach.

  There was something cold and impersonal inherent to its very design, as if the blueprints had been drafted with pure functionality and rote efficiency in mind, with no consideration given to human comfort. The Alley had sheltered her from it to some extent, as the walls were covered by decorated storefronts that had been revised and expanded many times throughout the years, as if it was an organic, evolving thing, but the upper levels hosted no such personal touches. These floors were wholly unfamiliar, and she felt a deep sense of unease amid the bright lights and white walls, so sterile they practically glowed, separated from the dark, expansive void of space by barriers that seemed entirely too thin.

  It reminded her of how fragile her existence was, and she didn’t like it.

  She turned her attention to the clock hanging near the departures board and realized she was few minutes early, so she made her way to the half-circle of blue benches just as she’d been instructed. No one was there to meet her though, so she sat down and waited, unsure of what to do.

  This was a mistake, the voice of Doubt whispered as it crept up inside her mind. She’d been so sure of her decision in the days prior that she’d actively worked to suppress those thoughts, but now, when confronted by the reality of it, she was forced to acknowledge them.

  No, she replied. I won’t go back.

  ”Ms. McNeill?” A voice interrupted.

  She turned around to see a man with a shiny bald head, and a crisply pressed officer’s uniform standing behind her.

  ”Yes?” she answered, her brow furrowing into a slight frown.

  ”I’m Colonel Adderley,” he said with a polite nod. ”I’m here to escort you to the Upper Command Deck.”

  His voice contained a thick accent that Evelyn couldn't quite place, and she returned a wry smile. Of course General Moore didn't come get me himself. He sent someone else to do that. Nevertheless, she stood up and greeted him with a polite nod in return. "Nice to meet you."

  ”Likewise. Now, let’s not waste any time. The General's waiting.” With that, he turned away and motioned for her to follow. However, they only made it a few steps before he stopped. “Where’s your luggage?” he asked, scanning the floor.

  “I don’t have any.” She held up the frayed satchel. “This is it.”

  “I see,” he said with a disapproving frown. “Well, come along, then.”

  She followed him through the shuttle bay to the nearest security checkpoint. She expected to be stopped, but to her surprise, the security personnel simply waved them through.

  ”It’s that easy?” she asked.

  ”Yes. All of your clearances are in order, so you won’t have to worry about any of that. It’s all managed through Andromeda.”

  “Andromeda?”

  “Our central computer,” he replied. ”She knows who you are, and she knows what you’re allowed to do. We’ll leave it at that.“

  Evelyn nodded as Colonel Adderley made his way to the Atrium. His pace was a bit faster than she was accustomed to, and she struggled to keep up. He crossed the cavernous room and stopped in front of the elevators, and they waited there in silence until the doors finally opened.

  “Upper Command Deck,” he said once they were inside. The elevator began moving, and Evelyn leaned against the back wall.

  “Where are you from?” she asked.

  “The Bahamas.”

  “You came from the Bahamas to here?”

  “From one island to another,” he said. His description was apt and singularly beautiful, but she didn’t give it much thought.

  “You work in General Moore’s office too?” she asked.

  “Yes. I’m his aide.”

  “I thought that was my job now.”

  He smirked. “Bey, no. You’re his assistant. They’re two very different things. I’m advising him on policy matters, while you’re pouring the coffee.”

  Evelyn grinned back. “Advising him? He doesn’t strike me as the type that readily takes advice.”

  Colonel Adderley’s smile turned to a frown. “We all do our best,” he said.

  Their conversation was cut short when the elevator doors opened.

  “His office is this way,” he said as he stepped out. “Follow me.”

  They entered a long corridor lined by narrow doors. The only distinguishing feature to be seen was the number plates beside them, with large black numerals contrasting harshly against the walls.

  The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  “Most of senior command is up here,” Adderley said. “This wing houses the Intelligence department.” As they approached the end of the corridor, Evelyn noticed that the doors were spaced further apart. The offices were getting larger, and Adderley slowed down near the second-to-last one on the left. The door was cracked open, and he announced himself with a hesitant knock.

  When no reply came, he cleared his throat and knocked again—louder this time. But there was no answer, so he pushed the door open slightly, looked around, and sighed. “He must’ve stepped out for a second. You can go on in. We’ll wait for him in there.”

  He pushed the door open all the way and nodded at her, and Evelyn cautiously entered the room. She only took a few steps inside, though, before stopping abruptly.

  If she hadn’t known this was a general’s office, she’d never have believed it. There were no medals, framed awards, plaques, or any visible acknowledgement of a storied career that was mostly behind him. These things were conspicuously absent, replaced by piles of clutter, messy paperwork, and dirty coffee mugs on every surface, with dried rings and drip stains telling tales of early mornings and long nights. Items were stacked about the room haphazardly, not in a manner indicating disorganization, but rather in a deliberate style suggesting that there were parts of his life he’d prefer remain unaddressed. A stack of boxes leaned precariously against the far wall, and a coat rack stood in the corner with several jackets slung over it and a gun belt crowning the top, pistol still inside and unsecured—an ironic display of carelessness, she thought.

  The desk was in an even worse state. The center was clear, but around the periphery sat unsorted folders, more coffee mugs that appeared to have been left unattended for days, and dog-eared notebooks. A polished gold pen sat in an ornate holder on the far corner, covered by a layer of dust as if it had never been touched, while next to it was a rusted, dented tin can full of pencils that appeared to have been used—and abused—regularly.

  There was a long, awkward silence as she took it all in, and Colonel Adderley drew a deep breath.

  “I guess I’ll go find out where he—”

  “No need.” A voice jarred them from their thoughts. Adderley jumped slightly at the sound, and Evelyn turned to see General Moore walking through the door.

  They stood up straighter, but he paid them no mind as he crossed the room in a few quick strides, sat down at his desk without so much as glancing at them, and motioned at one of the nearby chairs. He wasn’t wearing his jacket, she noticed—just the white button-down shirt that seemed to be part of the officer uniform, with the outline of yet another holstered pistol visible underneath.

  “Nice to see you again, Evelyn,” he said. ”Have a seat.”

  She nodded and made her way one of the chairs in front of the desk.

  Colonel Adderley cleared his throat from where he stood in the doorway, as if waiting for Moore to acknowledge his presence. At the sound, Moore shot him a look, and he gave a resigned nod and left the room.

  When they were alone, General Moore turned his attention back to Evelyn. ”I see you made your choice," he began. ”Welcome aboard.”

  His condescending smile had returned, and the arrogance coming off of him was almost a physical sensation she could smell, taste, and touch. She may have been an invited guest, but it was abundantly clear that his hospitality was conditional.

  She simply smiled and nodded in reply. The less she said right now, she thought, the better.

  He leaned back in his chair, propped his feet up on the desk, and folded his hands before continuing. “Alright, enough of the formalities. I promised you’d be briefed on your assignment once you got here, so let’s get right into it.”

  With these words he reached over, picked up one of the nearby coffee mugs, and moved to take a sip, but frowned when he saw it was empty. He set it down and grabbed another, giving it a quick swirl, and once he was satisfied it was full, he took a long drink.

  “I briefly touched on what’s happening when we spoke downstairs, but I couldn’t disclose any of the details.” He set the mug back on the desk. “I’m convinced someone’s trying to take us down from the inside, but we’ve got no clue who it is or why they’re doing it. We've thoroughly investigated all the usual suspects—I even handled some of those cases personally—and we keep coming up with nothing. All we know is that within the past few months we’ve had a series of leaks—classified information that wound up in the wrong hands—and I need to find the culprit before it happens again.” He took a deep breath. “And of course, there’s more. All of that would've been disturbing enough on its own, but recently, one of our deep space vessels disappeared under a set of... odd circumstances. And when I say ‘disappeared,’ I mean exactly that. As far as we can tell, it just poofed out of existence, crew and all. We’ve dispatched a team to look for them, but…” He shrugged and trailed off. “All we know is that this is the most recent entry in a string of highly suspicious events, and the most disturbing, by far.”

  He shifted in his seat as if collecting his thoughts. “I don’t know if these incidents are connected. I don’t know who’s behind it. I don’t know what they want. All I know is that they’ve got contacts within the Corps—probably in this very department—and they're going to strike again. It's only a matter of time, and that’s where you come in.”

  Evelyn took a deep breath. “I see. So am I your secretary, or am I a spy?”

  “Both.” He looked at her. “On paper, your job is simple. Smile, look pretty, take notes, and keep the coffee pot full. You’ll attend meetings with me, and in the course of performing your duties, you’ll come in close contact with most of senior command. That’s where the specialized part of your role comes in. Listen to everything they say, especially when I’m not around, and keep in mind that anyone could be a suspect. Officers, enlisted, cadets—doesn’t matter. Nobody is above suspicion. Listen to what they say, and report all of it back to me.”

  “What if I don’t hear anything useful?”

  He shrugged. “It’s always a possibility, but an unlikely one. You see, most spies make a mistake at some point, and they’re much more likely to make that mistake in the presence of a beautiful woman who seems interested in them. Flirt with them, talk to them, go on dates—I don’t care what you have to do. And that goes for the women too. We’ve got quite a few female officers. Enter their spaces. Befriend them. Join a special interest group or take up a hobby. Listen to what they’re saying. More likely than not, you’ll hear something.”

  Evelyn thought this over. “Seems risky.”

  "No more so than being a dancer.” He held her gaze. “There’s an inherent level of risk to everything you do, but working here offers a layer of protection you didn’t have downstairs.” He motioned around the room. “I wouldn’t have gotten to where I am if I couldn’t protect myself, and while you’re working for me, the same applies to you.”

  Evelyn nodded.

  “The only thing I’m going to demand outright is complete secrecy,” he continued. “As I alluded before, the only people who know the true nature of your assignment are sitting sitting right here. You and me. Not even my office staff will be briefed on your role. They’re getting the same story as everyone else.”

  “What about Adderley?”

  Moore shrugged. “He’s privy to more details than most, so I wouldn’t be surprised if he figures it out. Don’t ever confirm it though—not that I think you’ll have to. He’s smart, and he knows better than to ask.”

  Evelyn nodded again.

  “As for your day-to-day duties within my office, those are pretty self-explanatory. There’s the coffee pot, and here’s my desk. That’s all you need to know. If anyone asks, I’ve hired you on as a personal assistant to help manage clerical work. They’ll assume I want a civilian in the role in order to cross lines our officers can’t.” He took a deep breath. “That distinction allows you to go into my quarters—or someone else’s—so long as you’ve been invited. You’ll be restricted from accessing classified material, of course, but I suspect the answers we’re looking for aren’t hiding there.”

  Evelyn frowned. “So what’s my recourse if something goes wrong?”

  He shrugged. “Run and pray. I hope it won’t come to that, but if it does—” he leaned over and pulled a few sheets of paper from where they were buried deep within one of the piles, “—you’ve got this.”

  Evelyn leaned forward and looked at them. ”A civilian contractor agreement?”

  He nodded. “This provides a basic level of employment protection and outlines your rights, should you feel the need to take legal action. The standard duration for this type of contract is six months with potential for renewal at the end. Read it, sign it, and give it back to me.”

  Evelyn took the papers and flipped through the first few pages.

  “Take your time; there’s no rush,” he said. “Your official start date is Monday, so you’ve got a little while to get settled in. Oh, and about that...” He shifted in his chair again. “You’ll get your own private quarters, but there’s a catch.”

  She smirked. “Of course there is.”

  He ignored her. “All Council members—myself included—live in multi-room suites. It’s a perk of senior leadership, and it includes an attached guest room, which is code for servant’s quarters, because that’s how they use it. There’s a disgusting amount of wealth up here, and most of them have live-in help available 24/7.”

  Evelyn returned a knowing look. “I assume that’s where I’ll be staying?”

  “You assume correctly.” He met her eyes. “That won’t go unnoticed, which is my plan. It’s going to be very visible and very talked about. Everyone knows what you do for a living, and they’ll make assumptions. As for you, I want you to let them think it. If anyone confronts you about it, don’t correct them. Let them make up whatever stories they want, because while they’re doing that, they’re also muddying the truth.”

  "Really?" she asked. "Is that all there is to it?" She studied him carefully, searching out his intentions, but his face gave away nothing.

  "Look," he finally said, "I don't blame you for being overly cautious. I would be too, in your position. All I'm gonna say is that I know I'm no saint, but there are certain lines even I won't cross. You're exposing yourself to a substantial level of risk, but you won't have to worry about any of that in here. Not from me."

  She slowly nodded.

  "At the end of the day, you're going to have to choose whether to believe me or not," he continued. "Nothing I say will make much of a difference because you're used to dealing with liars, so feel free to do your homework and come to your own conclusions. Once you've made up your mind, you can sign that contact and bring it back to me."

  She scrutinized him for a few more seconds, then nodded again.

  “Now, that’s enough of that.” He uncrossed his legs and sat up in the chair. “While you’re here today, I’ve got some real work for you to do.”

  “Oh? What’s that?”

  “Miserable drudgery, that’s what.”

  “Oh, come on Sir, it’s not that bad,” Adderley’s voice came from behind them.

  Evelyn hadn’t realized he’d returned, and apparently neither had General Moore, because he jumped. “Christ, Adderley, what have I told you about sneaking up on me like that? Ignore him when he does it, Evelyn; it’s harmless, albeit creepy as hell. And as for you, Adderley, you can shut your mouth. Some of us hate these things.”

  Evelyn shot him an inquisitive look, and he sighed.

  “There’s an event taking place in the ballroom this evening,” he said. “It’s a black-tie affair, and as senior officers, we’re expected to attend. A date isn’t required, but I never go to these things alone, so you’ll be going with me. And Adderley, since you’re so excited about it, you can go find her something appropriate to wear.”

  “Where should I do that?”

  “My last assistant left plenty of things in that closet upstairs. Go dig through there and find something.”

  Adderley nodded, and his expression reflected all of his unspoken frustrations as he turned to leave the room.

  “Are these the type of policy matters he advises you on?” Evelyn asked with the faintest hint of a smile.

  “Yes, but more importantly, he does a fantastic job of keeping his mouth shut when I want him to, which is why I keep him around. Now, when he gets back you can try on whatever he’s found, and we’ll go downstairs. That event starts in a few hours. But in the meantime, you can get me another cup of coffee.”