Between Burning Worlds (System Divine #2) - Jessica Brody Page 0,222

soft ding, alerting Alouette that the search was complete. She peered back at the screen, reminding herself to stay focused. Any minute now, another médecin could walk through that door.

“What do you see?” Cerise prompted.

Alouette squinted at the panel. “There are a lot of files. Are these really all logged with detention facility and interrogation?”

“He was the inspecteur of the Vallonay Policier Precinct. So probably yes.”

Alouette’s stomach turned as she braved another glance at the incapacitated inspecteur. How many people had been tortured by this man?

She tapped on the first file. A moment later, one of the monitors on the wall of the room blinked to life. Grainy blackness filled the screen, followed by a loud screeching noise. She winced and scrubbed forward in the footage, only to find more static. She tried a different file, but it was the same. File after file of nothing but darkness or the indecipherable jumble of shapes.

“They’re all corrupted,” she whispered to Cerise, feeling the hope squeeze out of her.

“Keep looking.”

Alouette tapped the next file on the screen. Then the next. Until she was quickly nearing the end of the search results. She let out a small whimper of frustration. She was the reason all of these files were corrupt. She was the one who put that pulse in the inspecteur’s head. Jacqui and Denise were the only two sisters left in the world. If she couldn’t find them—if she couldn’t fulfill her promise to Dr. Collins—would it be her fault?

She clicked on the next file but froze when she heard something behind her. It was the unmistakable sound of heavy breathing.

Someone else was in the room with her.

Alouette spun around, pulse racing, fingertips tingling. But there was no one there. The room was empty apart from …

She turned back toward the bed of the unconscious inspecteur and watched as he took in a long, noisy breath. This one, however, wasn’t assisted by the tubes that tunneled down his throat. This was a lengthy, deliberate inhale through his nose. Almost as though he was trying to capture every scent in the room.

Alouette staggered back. “Cerise,” she whispered urgently. “I think he’s waking up.”

“What?”

The inspecteur inhaled again, his nostrils flaring.

“You should get out of there,” Cerise said.

Alouette turned toward the door, preparing to run, but a slight movement caught her eye. She snapped her gaze back to the monitor on the wall just in time to see a face flicker into view. The image strained against the static, like it was fighting to be seen. Sounds came, distorted and echoing, and then the face appeared again. This time closer. Clearer. It was a man. His haunted, terrified eyes were bulging, and his haggard cheeks were streaked with tears. Alouette could just make out some kind of metal wire pinching at his neck before the soundtrack screeched and the footage warped again, replaced with a sequence of flickering images—a fist punching through the air, a pool of blood, wrists bound by chains.

Alouette squirmed at the sight but still forced herself to step closer to the monitor, to the jagged splintered footage, trying to make out any detail that might reveal where it was captured. But everything was so jumbled and hazy.

“What are you doing?” Cerise screeched.

Ignoring her, Alouette hurried back to the control panel. She darted a look at the inspecteur. His eyes were still closed, but his circuitry was flickering with more intensity now. More alertness.

“Requesting coordinates,” she whispered to the panel.

There was a hesitant pause before the reply came. “No coordinates found.”

Alouette bit her lip, trying to organize her thoughts. There had to be a way to figure out where this memory was captured. She stared down at the inspecteur, who was still breathing deeply, his eyelids fluttering as though he was dreaming about this very same memory. Walking back through it in his own mind.

And an idea came to her.

Hastily, Alouette jabbed at the control panel. “Requesting time stamp.”

There was another pause, but this time, the console reported back, “Month 8, Day 19, Year 504. 11.29.”

“Find all memories dated one hour before.”

The program went to work again, and soon a new file started to play. Black static filled the screen, and Alouette’s heart sank again as she assumed it was another corrupted file. But then, a moment later, she realized, the static was moving. Rushing past. Because it was not static at all. But rather, a vast and dark ocean.

The Secana Sea! Alouette realized with a jolt of adrenaline.

Limier was flying over