you. Who else would’ve done it?”
Cromartie didn’t answer.
“I didn’t do it,” Sanders told him. “You didn’t do it, did you?”
“Of course not.”
“That rules the two of us out. If it wasn’t you or me, then that only leaves those other three. And my money’s on Ward.”
Cromartie didn’t respond, but he thought about how quickly Abraham had become furious down in the storage level when he couldn’t get one of the storage chambers open. He had changed so abruptly … he had snapped.
“There’s something wrong with Ward,” Sanders continued, relentless in her accusation of Ward. “I don’t know what it is, but I can tell there’s something wrong with him.”
Cromartie just stared at her.
“I can feel it in my gut. He’s violent and he’s hiding something. I know it.”
“We still need some kind of proof.”
Sanders looked up at the ceiling. “MAC, do you have video surveillance on this ship? In the hallway between our quarters?”
“I’m sorry, that is not available.”
“What do you mean, that’s not available?!” Sanders screamed at the ceiling. “All of this technology on this ship and you don’t have video surveillance?”
“I’m sorry, Sanders, that’s not available.”
“What do you mean by that, MAC? It’s not available because you don’t have video surveillance, or because you’re choosing not to show it to us?”
“I’m sorry, Sanders. That’s not available.”
Cromartie glanced again at the archway that led out to the corridor, and then he touched Sanders’ arm lightly and looked into her eyes. He shook his head no slightly and whispered to her. “I wouldn’t challenge MAC on anything right now.” He was fairly certain that MAC could hear what he was saying, just like in the storage area, but he needed to get Sanders calmed down.
“What do you mean?” she whispered. “Why not?”
Cromartie gave her an expression that he hoped she would interpret as: This wasn’t the place to discuss this right now. “We’ll talk about it later in one of our rooms,” he whispered, his lips right up to her ear.
She just nodded, but he could tell she was far from giving up her original argument about charging Ward with this crime.
Sanders got to her feet and walked away from Cromartie. She walked towards the slanted, plate-glass windows that looked out onto space. The stars looked the same, like nothing was moving, like they weren’t even moving through space; it was just that same unending space outside that went on forever and ever.
She looked back at Cromartie. “We need to do something about Ward.”
Cromartie got up and walked over to her. “What do you want to do?” he asked in a low voice. “Put Ward on trial? Convict him of a crime even though we don’t have enough evidence?”
“Yes. I want us to be safe.”
“We can’t do that.”
“We could all vote on it.”
“And what if we find him guilty? Then what?”
“We could banish him to his room. Lock him in there.”
“The doors don’t have any locks.”
“Then tie him up.”
“For how long? How long does the punishment last? We can’t leave him tied up for the rest of his life.”
“We have to do something before this happens again.”
“What about torture?” Cromartie asked. “We could just torture him until he admits to the crime.”
“Very funny,” she said and walked away from him. She marched towards the corridor like she was going to leave, but then she stopped and looked back over her shoulder at Cromartie. “I guess we’ll just wait around until he kills another one of us. Then I guess we’ll have our proof.”
Cromartie watched her leave the bridge.
He didn’t go after her.
TWENTY-TWO
S anders lay on her bed; she was wide awake. Her door was closed. She wished she could lock it. There wasn’t even anything she could push in front of the door or wedge underneath the door handle because everything in here was either bolted down to the floor or somehow
Cromartie didn’t answer.
“I didn’t do it,” Sanders told him. “You didn’t do it, did you?”
“Of course not.”
“That rules the two of us out. If it wasn’t you or me, then that only leaves those other three. And my money’s on Ward.”
Cromartie didn’t respond, but he thought about how quickly Abraham had become furious down in the storage level when he couldn’t get one of the storage chambers open. He had changed so abruptly … he had snapped.
“There’s something wrong with Ward,” Sanders continued, relentless in her accusation of Ward. “I don’t know what it is, but I can tell there’s something wrong with him.”
Cromartie just stared at her.
“I can feel it in my gut. He’s violent and he’s hiding something. I know it.”
“We still need some kind of proof.”
Sanders looked up at the ceiling. “MAC, do you have video surveillance on this ship? In the hallway between our quarters?”
“I’m sorry, that is not available.”
“What do you mean, that’s not available?!” Sanders screamed at the ceiling. “All of this technology on this ship and you don’t have video surveillance?”
“I’m sorry, Sanders, that’s not available.”
“What do you mean by that, MAC? It’s not available because you don’t have video surveillance, or because you’re choosing not to show it to us?”
“I’m sorry, Sanders. That’s not available.”
Cromartie glanced again at the archway that led out to the corridor, and then he touched Sanders’ arm lightly and looked into her eyes. He shook his head no slightly and whispered to her. “I wouldn’t challenge MAC on anything right now.” He was fairly certain that MAC could hear what he was saying, just like in the storage area, but he needed to get Sanders calmed down.
“What do you mean?” she whispered. “Why not?”
Cromartie gave her an expression that he hoped she would interpret as: This wasn’t the place to discuss this right now. “We’ll talk about it later in one of our rooms,” he whispered, his lips right up to her ear.
She just nodded, but he could tell she was far from giving up her original argument about charging Ward with this crime.
Sanders got to her feet and walked away from Cromartie. She walked towards the slanted, plate-glass windows that looked out onto space. The stars looked the same, like nothing was moving, like they weren’t even moving through space; it was just that same unending space outside that went on forever and ever.
She looked back at Cromartie. “We need to do something about Ward.”
Cromartie got up and walked over to her. “What do you want to do?” he asked in a low voice. “Put Ward on trial? Convict him of a crime even though we don’t have enough evidence?”
“Yes. I want us to be safe.”
“We can’t do that.”
“We could all vote on it.”
“And what if we find him guilty? Then what?”
“We could banish him to his room. Lock him in there.”
“The doors don’t have any locks.”
“Then tie him up.”
“For how long? How long does the punishment last? We can’t leave him tied up for the rest of his life.”
“We have to do something before this happens again.”
“What about torture?” Cromartie asked. “We could just torture him until he admits to the crime.”
“Very funny,” she said and walked away from him. She marched towards the corridor like she was going to leave, but then she stopped and looked back over her shoulder at Cromartie. “I guess we’ll just wait around until he kills another one of us. Then I guess we’ll have our proof.”
Cromartie watched her leave the bridge.
He didn’t go after her.
TWENTY-TWO
S anders lay on her bed; she was wide awake. Her door was closed. She wished she could lock it. There wasn’t even anything she could push in front of the door or wedge underneath the door handle because everything in here was either bolted down to the floor or somehow
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