man with bright blue hair. Neither of them looked anything like they did in real life. It was late in Universal Time, and Marcel, the blue-haired man, was on Earth. Alayna, the redhead, was on an out-of-the-way planet that didn’t adhere to Universal, so I wasn’t sure what her local time was.
“Is everything okay?” I asked quietly.
Marcel was happily married to his husband on Earth and was well on his way to running House Plitt, one of the midlevel lower houses, due to his mother’s ill health. He had been pulled into my network because he’d helped me save his niece from an unwanted marriage. Since then, he’d been an invaluable source of information.
Alayna was his niece. She was a doctor and seemed perfectly happy to practice medicine in the middle of nowhere. The settlement she’d decided on had desperately needed a doctor, so it worked out for everyone. With a nearby gate, she was able to use HIVE to stay in touch.
They both smiled. “Everything is fine,” Marcel said. His avatar’s voice had a pleasant lilt while Marcel himself spoke without an accent. “We are just catching up on gossip. Is everything okay with you? Have you found your brother?”
“Not yet. I’m looking for information on MineCorp.”
“Tori is your best bet,” Alayna said.
I nodded. I’d helped Tori Waugh escape before she was pressured into marriage to a man who was nice enough but wasn’t who she wanted. Now she worked at MineCorp. I wouldn’t ask her to risk her job or her identity, but I hoped that she would have some idea on how I could get into their network.
I couldn’t message her directly without potentially exposing her—even secure messages weren’t guaranteed not to be intercepted and I wouldn’t chance it—so I could only hope that she would check the messages soon. Most of the people with access to the HIVE safe house tried to check in every day or two, so my hope wasn’t too misplaced.
“If you see her, tell her I’m looking for info, would you?”
They both agreed and I excused myself from their conversation. I checked the note board and found a few responses to my request for info on Silva. I didn’t learn anything groundbreaking, but two more people had warned me that Riccardo Silva was an ass. Good to know we were all on the same page.
I took down my current note and changed it to a request for information on MineCorp. I changed the exclamation point to bright pink so people would know the note was new.
I responded to a couple of the other messages, then logged out. I’d done what I could.
My stomach rumbled and I tried to remember the last time I’d eaten. Healing took energy and I hoped that meant I would be able to keep something down.
In the galley, Ian was working his way through an enormous steak. He glanced up at me, then pointedly glanced at the synthesizer.
“That’s what I’m here for,” I said.
I put in an order for a light seafood and pasta dish. As hungry as I was, I might’ve been able to get away with something heavier and more flavorful, but I didn’t want to risk it with an audience. I added a bowl of creamy raspberry mousse for dessert and a cup of apple juice.
Ian watched me out of the corner of his eye as I set my tray down and dug in. I ate slowly, savoring the food and the lack of nausea. Sometimes I would have a week or more of good eating days and sometimes I would have to sip meal replacement shakes just to get any calories down.
When I pushed away the half-eaten plate of food, Ian scowled. “Don’t start,” I warned, heading him off. “I know my body better than you. If I want to eat dessert, and I do, I can’t finish this.”
“Eat both.”
“I would if I could.” I sighed. I loved cooking and I used to love eating. Before Gregory, I’d been curvy. I missed my curves.
I dipped my spoon in the smooth mousse and took a bite. Sweet, slightly tart raspberry flavor exploded on my tongue and I closed my eyes in delight. Maybe I would get another portion of this.
“What did that bastard do to you?” Ian asked.
I blinked out of my mousse-induced haze. I had to tread carefully here because I’d promised him honesty. “Which bastard?”
“Your husband.”
The mousse soured in my stomach. “He did many things, none of which I will discuss.”