was for the Vangarde to distribute it into the water supply for the Third Estate. There are eleven water treatment centers on your planet: two in the city of Montfer; one in each of the towns of Delaine, Céleste, Adèle-sur-Mer, Lacrête, and Bûcheron; and four in Vallonay. If you can get one of these vials into each treatment center, the inhibitor will multiply and spread on its own, eventually infecting everyone with a Skin and rendering the TéléReversion program useless.”
Marcellus stepped forward, looking grateful to have a plan. “We can do that. Are the vials ready now?”
“They will be by morning,” Dr. Collins said.
“Um”—Cerise glanced impatiently between Marcellus and Dr. Collins—“are you all forgetting one very important thing? How are we supposed to get back to Laterre? Lady Alexander is still looking for us. I doubt she’s just going to let us board our ship and fly off into the Sol-rise.”
“Let me handle that,” Dr. Collins said. “I’ve been monitoring my own security profile since we left the lab, and so far, they haven’t revoked any of my clearances. Which means, I don’t think they suspect me of helping you.”
“So you can get us back into the spaceport?” Cerise confirmed.
“I will work on a plan,” Dr. Collins assured her. “In the meantime, you all should rest. You’ve had quite the day. There are bedrooms and loos in the back. Make yourself at home.”
“Loos?” Gabriel repeated.
“Sorry. Bathrooms.”
Marcellus and Gabriel disappeared down a hall, presumably to seek out rest, while Cerise ventured into the kitchen for more tea. Dr. Collins sat down in front of one of his glowing screens and immediately seemed to fall into a trance. It reminded Alouette of the way Denise could so easily disappear into her devices. She tried to imagine what Denise might have been like as a child. As this man’s daughter. There were so many questions she longed to ask Dr. Collins about the sister who had helped raise her.
Nibbling on her biscuit, she glanced around the room, and her gaze eventually landed on a familiar contraption perched on a nearby shelf. It was mounted on a wooden platform with a series of springs, cogs, and intertwined bolts holding up a hinged metal arm that, when in use, tapped down onto a small metal disk. Alouette stepped up closer to the shelf, her lips curving into a knowing smile. It was just like the device Denise had. The very one she had used to teach Alouette the First World code that had led them all here.
“That’s how my daughter and I have been communicating.”
Alouette looked up to find Dr. Collins watching her from his desk.
“I’m sorry, Dr. Collins,” she said, quickly backing away from the shelf. “I didn’t mean to bother you.”
He smiled gently. “You’re no bother. I’m just waiting for some processes to render. And please, call me Edward.”
“Edward,” she repeated quietly, liking the way the name sounded in his distinguished Albion accent. “I have to say”—Alouette nodded toward the contraption on the shelf—“sending signals through the old Human Conservation Commission space probe was a pretty brilliant idea.”
Edward stood up and walked over until they were standing shoulder to shoulder, staring at the strange little device. “Thank you. That was all Vaness— Sorry, I forget she goes by Denise now. She found the probe when she was a little girl. She was always fascinated with space. Always listening to the skies. When she discovered that the probe was still transmitting through that old deep-space network from the First World, she figured out how to utilize it. She built this device so she could send me secret messages, using a First World code that she’d discovered. It was a game we used to play. Our own little secret.” He caught Alouette’s eye and tipped his teacup to her in a small salute.
Another rush of warmth shot through her. That was exactly what Denise had told Alouette when she’d taught her the code. “Our own little secret.” Like she was passing down some ancient family wisdom. And now Alouette realized that she was.
A far-off look passed over Dr. Collins’s face, as though there was more to the story than he was letting on. “She was always so much smarter than her old dad.”
“Were you close?” Alouette asked.
Edward sighed. “We haven’t been for a long time. This … This project is the thing that brought us back together. I haven’t actually seen my daughter in thirty-five years.”
“Thirty-five years?”
His eyes dimmed. “Yes. It’s my fault, really. I