Chapter 6: The Archive

The Resolute's library was the largest room Maxine had ever seen on a dead ship.

It rose three decks high, with ladders on rails and shelves of data-spines glowing faintly in the dark.

Silvan Orme walked ahead of her with his hands folded in his sleeves.

His white hair swung behind him, and he never raised his voice above a murmur.

"This was the fleet's archive," he said. "I was its keeper. When the Fever came, I found I could not stop keeping things."

"Is that a problem?"

"It is a habit." He stopped at a reading desk and turned the tablet toward her. "It may now be of use."

The screen showed a plain list.

Six rows, six dates of arrival, six dates of burial.

No names.

"I do not use their names," Silvan said. "They were not given to me to keep. I call them the first through the sixth."

Maxine read.

One arrived on a cold morning and was buried on day forty-three.

Two, day forty-one.

Three, forty-two.

Four, forty-four.

Five, forty-one.

Six, forty-three.

She looked up.

"They all died around the same time."

"Within a span of four days. Yes." He turned a page.

"The Court drops a crate every ten days. I recorded each fall by sound."

"After the first, days ten, twenty and thirty, each time, without fail."

"And day forty?"

His green eyes did not move from hers.

"None was recorded."

"None fell?"

"None was heard." He said it with great care.

"In the later weeks, the Fever takes us for hours. Days at a time."

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