Chapter 7: Bribes and Betrayal

I don’t show up for my shift. I’m fairly certain I only have a few hours, if that, before security realizes I’ve been in the sublevel, and I don’t want to be spending precious time pretending like nothing’s happened.

I need to find Angela and David.

They’re the only people I know on this ship who can help me, who have any semblance of power over Smith Capital. If I can find them and show them what I recorded in the sublevel, then surely they can help me, including making sure I don’t disappear like Trevor or the others.

Thinking of the people in the sublevel, I can’t help but wonder how they got there. How did they turn into the zombie versions of themselves they are now?

Part of me is terrified it’s some sort of disease aboard the New Unity, something that I may have breathed in when sharing the dingy air of the sublevel with them. But that can’t be it. From what I saw, the only people down there were employees, meaning whatever’s infected them hasn’t spread to the guests. Still, the thought of something germinating in my lungs, spreading in my blood, makes me shiver, and I move faster through the hallways.

I head toward the smaller conference room where the agents said they’d be. Turning the corner, I see an old man sitting quietly in a chair outside the door. He glances up at me but doesn’t say anything. I nod quickly, realizing how frazzled I look, then knock on the door.

I hear footsteps on the other side, then David opens the door, a confused look on his face. I look inside but don’t see Angela anywhere. Another employee—the old woman I sat next to in the cafeteria on my first day—is seated at the table.

“I have something to show you,” I say to David through lungfuls of air. The woman stands up and walks toward the door.

“I don’t have anything else to say,” she says to David before smiling at me. “Meera can come in.” Not waiting for David to say anything, the woman helps the old man up from the chair and walks away. David just shrugs and steps out of the way to let me in.

I head to the table but don’t sit down, too agitated.

“Have you been to the sublevel yet?” I ask, getting straight to the point. My voice is loud and urgent, and I will myself to slow down, to breathe. I can’t have him thinking I’m hysterical. He adjusts his tie before answering.

“Not yet,” he admits. He gestures for me to sit down, but I don’t.

“You need to,” I say. “They’re keeping people down there. Employees. Did you know that?”

“What makes you say that?” David asks, his voice annoyingly calm.

“I saw them,” I say.

“Isn’t the sublevel restricted?” he asks, as if that’s remotely important right now.

“It is,” I say, “but I went down there, and I saw people. But something’s wrong with them. They’re not well. I think they’re sick or something, and Smith Capital is hiding them away.” David looks at me skeptically, as if trying to determine if I’m being serious or not.

“See for yourself,” I say, pulling out my phone. I spin it around to him, pushing play on the video. He watches the whole thing. Besides his eyes, which grow wider with each second, his face shows no emotion. The video ends, and I stick my phone back in my pocket.

“That’s quite the video,” he says quietly, staring down at the table. “We’ll need to report that to our supervisors immediately.” Relief washes over me, but it’s mingled with an undercurrent of dread. He needs to do more than report this. Who knows how long it will take to send a notice up the chain of command then wait for a response? I’m about to tell him as much when he holds his hand out.

“I’ll need the phone for evidence,” he says. “I can send the video to my supervisor, who will let me know what to do.” I stare at his open palm but don’t move.

There’s no way in hell I’m giving this man my phone.

“No,” I say, shaking my head. He looks at me perplexed, as if he’s never been told no before. His hand still hangs in the air.

“I need it to submit a legitimate report,” he says, his voice now stern. “Unless you don’t want me to file a report?” He says this like an accusation, as if suggesting this is all some sort of prank I’m playing on him.

“It’s not that,” I say, trying to find a solution. “I just don’t want to give up my phone.” We stand in silence for a moment, at an impasse. “I’ll send it to you,” I finally say. He has to be satisfied with that. I see him consider the option, biting the inside of his cheek, then finally he nods his head.

“That should be fine,” he says. He gives me his contact information, then I send him the video.

“Okay,” he says once he’s received it. “Wait right here, and I’ll go send the report.” He moves to the door as I speak.

“Can’t you send it now?” I ask. Every second we waste is a second my brother is suffering.

“I have to send it from a government computer,” he says, opening the door. “That’s back in my room. So I’ll go there, send the report, then once I’m back, you and I can talk more about what you saw.” Before I can ask any more questions, he walks out the door.

And then I hear it—the lock falling heavily into place.

Shit. That’s not good.

I go to the door just to make sure, and when I turn the knob, it remains firmly in place. David Chen has locked me inside the conference room.

My mind begins to race as I try to find a good reason. Maybe he wants to make sure I’m safe and that no one comes in while I’m gone. But I know that’s not true. There’s only one reason he’d lock me in here—he doesn’t want me to leave. He wants me trapped.

And if he wants me trapped, then I have to assume he isn’t on my side.

He seemed so unfazed when I showed him the video. Did he already know what was going on in the sublevel? Had he already seen the trapped workers and, for whatever reason, decided to ignore it?

I look around the room, trying to find some other escape. There are no windows, and the door is too thick to break down. I glance at the ceiling and see a vent in the far corner, but it’s high up. I’m not sure I can reach it, but I grab a chair and drag it against the wall. Standing on my tiptoes, my fingers just barely graze the grate.

Slowly, I begin working at the screws, smashing my fingers underneath them and twisting as best I can. I haven’t even gotten the first screw loose when I hear the lock slide out of place.

Quickly, I jump off the chair and shove it under the desk before backing into the corner. The doorknob turns, and the door opens. David walks in, and at first I think I must have been overreacting. But then Booker appears behind him, stepping through the door frame. My heart sinks at the sight of him.

David doesn’t look at me, just stares at the ground as Booker walks past him.

“She’s the one who was in the sublevel?” Booker asks David, who nods. “Thank you,” Booker says. “You can leave us alone now.” David hesitates then glances at me, only for a moment, before dropping his eyes back down. He doesn’t move, though.

“You can leave now,” Booker repeats, his voice a low growl.

“I think I’d rather stay,” David says in barely more than a whisper.

“That wasn’t the deal,” Booker says. “If you want the rest of the money, I’d suggest you listen to me.” David waits for a moment then quietly slips outside and closes the door.

Booker steps toward me, but I refuse to shrink back any farther. I stare him down as he approaches, but my defiance must make him enjoy this even more because he breaks into a wolfish grin.

“So,” he says, still stepping toward me, “I hear you recorded a little video.” I don’t say anything in response. I’m too busy trying to plan my way out of this. I don’t have a weapon; the only object nearby is a chair, but Booker is closer to it than I am.

“Let’s make this easy,” he says. He’s stopped moving forward, but he’s only a foot or so away from him, his massive frame towering over me. “Give me the phone, and things won’t need to get messy.”

I know he’s lying. I’ve seen too much. No matter what he says, I know he’s going to kill me. I stare him in the eyes, my mouth set firm. I refuse to give into this man. I refuse to let him bully me.

“No,” I say, and he seems surprised. But his expression quickly changes to one of wicked pleasure. I’m sure this is exactly what he was hoping for: a reason to hurt me. He seems like the kind of person who enjoys inflicting pain.

He takes another step closer, now just inches from me.

“You sure about that?” he says. He’s so close I can feel his hot breath on my face, but I refuse to back down. I’m about to spit in his face when I hear shouting from outside. It must shock Booker too because he turns to look at the door as well, which has been unlocked and is flying open.

“What the hell is going on in here?” Angela Cress yells, storming into the room. Booker is suddenly feet away from me, acting as if he hadn’t just been threatening me. He looks between me and David, who has slinked back into the room and now stands behind Angela. I glance past him out into the hallway just in time to see the woman who’d been in the room before me disappearing around the corner.

“We caught this employee in a restricted zone,” Booker says, his voice calm but firm. “I’m just asking her a few questions. We suspect she may be a corporate spy.” I almost laugh at the absurd lie, but Angela whips her head at me and speaks.

“Is that true?” she asks, her voice sharp.

“No,” I say, before correcting myself. “I was in the sublevel, but I’m not a spy.” She looks between Booker and me, her eyes narrowing.

“And why wasn’t I told about this?” she says, turning to David. “Why did an employee have to inform me about this meeting?”

David doesn’t respond to Angela, just continues to stare at the ground.

“You,” Angela says, snapping back toward Booker, “out.” She points to the hallway, and I see Booker’s jaw tense at the command.

“With all due respect,” he says through clenched teeth, “this is a company matter.”

“Not anymore,” she says, “or do I need to pull rank? Let me remind you I’m a federal agent.” She motions to pull the badge from her pocket, but Booker swears under his breath before stomping across the room. Once at the door, he stares back at me then glares at David’s back before leaving the room.

I feel my body relax, tension leaving my shoulders. I know the problem isn’t solved, but we’ve kicked it down the road for now, which is all I can ask for at the moment.

Angela closes the door, then turns on me and David.

“I need you to explain what’s going on right now.”

David and I make brief eye contact, then I begin to tell Angela everything.