Sofia lifts her head, glancing at me with uncharacteristic hesitation. “Well, if you won’t say it, I will. Everyone’s heard the Avon Broadcast. That’s what Flynn—Flynn Cormac, the guy on that recording—that’s what he was talking about. Creatures that can affect minds.”
It sounds insane. Beyond insane. And if I hadn’t seen what Tarver and Lilac went through, if I hadn’t been tracking the woman who helped LaRoux cover up the Avon conspiracy, I’d politely show this girl the door and get back to my screens. “Yeah,” I say instead, my voice sounding papery and thin even to my own ears. “‘Whispers,’ he called them. He said they were whispers from another universe.”
“Surely there’s some way to just cut our universe off from theirs, so that LaRoux can’t use the whispers.”
I’m quick to shake my head. “They come from hyperspace. If we shut the door on their universe, we’d be left without the ability to jump through their dimension from place to place. There’d be no faster-than-light travel, no hypernet communication between planets.”
Sofia grimaces. “Okay, let’s not do that then. So how do you fight something that can get inside your mind, control your thoughts?”
I wish I had an answer, but instead the silence draws in around us again, thick and smothering this time. I don’t know how to fight the whispers. It’s why I’m trying to fight LaRoux himself, to drag him into the light. Despite the short time I’ve known her, it’s strange to see Sofia at such a loss. I take a deep breath, and say something out loud I’ve never told anyone but Mae. “We fight him instead. His company.”
Her eyes flick up from the floor again, brows lifted.
I indicate my screens with a jerk of my chin. “There’s nothing we can do against beings that can reach inside your head, but we can stop what they’re being used to do. Whatever it is. Avon’s people managed to stand up to LaRoux, despite these creatures being there. And—” My words come up short, and I almost choke with the effort to halt my momentum. “And I think the Icarus survivors encountered them too,” I finish finally. I’m not ready for her to know about my connection with the youngest LaRoux.
Sofia frowns. “How could you know that?”
“It’s a long story,” I reply. “But I’ve been looking. For years now, I’ve been digging into LaRoux Industries. I told you I had my own reasons for wanting to take them down.”
Sofia leans back, resting her shoulders against the wall next to the bed. She takes her time responding, and I can feel those gray eyes on me like a tangible weight. “I showed you mine,” she says softly. “You don’t think I should know why you’re in this? Why I should trust you?”
In an instant, my brother’s face is there in front of me. I’m always looking up in my memory; he was older, though these days I’m taller than he was when he died. Freckled, grinning, he’s always laughing in my imagination, though I never remember the jokes. The sort of things brothers laugh about, stupid kid jokes that make no sense to anybody else. Grief wraps around my throat, tightening like a hand, making it hard to swallow. “Because the LaRoux family killed my brother.”
Sofia’s silent for a time, but I can still feel her watching me. “I’m so sorry,” she says finally, and for now, that’s enough.
I cough to clear my throat, straightening in my chair. “Well, we’re safe here for now. No one’s ever found this place and I’ve been here for years. We can regroup, figure out our next move. Wait a few weeks, see if the heat dies down.”
“A few weeks…” Sofia echoes my words, suddenly not looking at me anymore, but rather gazing past me with a troubled look on her face.
“What is it? I know it’s no penthouse, but it’s better than—”
“No, no, this place is fine,” Sofia says dismissively. Now I know she’s distracted. “I’m remembering what one of those guys said, back at LRI Headquarters, right before you got there. Something about having a week to fix the rift and make sure it was working right.”
“So…what’s happening in a week that’s so important to LaRoux?”
Sofia’s eyebrows lift. “Seriously? You don’t know?” One side of her mouth lifts, drawing the faintest ghost of a dimple and banishing the lingering remnants of grief. “Do you ever come out of those screens?”
“There are a lot of things happening in a week, Dimples. I probably know about more of them than you do.”
“Maybe. But quality over quantity, my good man. Run a search on ‘Daedalus.’”
The name sends a jolt through me. I don’t have to search the phrase—the entire galaxy knows about the Icarus’s sister ship. “Oh, holy shit, you’re right. The grand opening of the Daedalus museum is happening soon.”
“And the opening-night gala is doubling as a welcome bash for all the planetary envoys visiting for the peace summit.” Her mouth twists in a way completely unrelated to a smile. “To discuss those pesky rebellions.”