The Killing Jar Read Online Free PDF

holographic projection paced the stage until she could look no longer, could sit next to her blind husband no longer. Aida darted from her chair and ran from the room.
     

 

     

SILAS
    CPI-AO-301, NEW YORK
    AUGUST 7, 2232
     
    Silas stared at the documents in his hands, disbelief saturating the room. How many favors had he asked, how many strings had he pulled, desperate for any chance of making this happen?
    And now he had the papers in his hand. Actual, physical paper.
    He didn’t know what to do.
    If he signed them, if he made this happen, it could be his only chance to soften his consuming regret. But so many things could go wrong.
    Or he could burn them. It would be as if he’d never seen them. He would bear none of the responsibility.
    Silas was stuck, wedged between regret and guilt. There was no easy choice.
    “The digital autopsy scans are back from LRF.”
    Silas looked up as his assistant appeared in the doorway. “What’s the name on this one?” He sat up, deftly maneuvering his tablet to pull up the report from the files, careful not to wrinkle the documents with the weight of the device.
    “Uh, Dr. Jackson Parr. Planetary Systems,” Nick said with a glance at his own screen.
    How could Abby let this happen?
    “I’ll take a look and send it to Quincy. Thanks.” Silas waited for Nick to leave, his eyes scanning the hovering report. How he would always hate getting them, each one bringing them no closer to finding the bugs. Each one a life lost in his failure.
    Nick didn’t leave. Instead, he said, “A possible recruit just came online in the northwest sector. I’ve made the arrangements. Should be there by 1200. That all right?” Nick asked when Silas sat distracted, eyes distant.
    “Of course.” Silas faked his usual off-handed manner. “We’ll need to find at least two more, if not three. Good work.” He meant it.
    As much as Silas didn’t care for Masry’s choice, he was grateful yet again to have an assistant. He wasn’t in the mood to recruit children into this field anymore. That was Nick’s job now.
    “Thanks. I’ll send you my debrief this afternoon.”
    “Hey, make sure you’re nice to them, okay? Remember they’ve had a rough day already. You know, be friendly.” Silas wouldn’t stand for Nick scaring off another recruit. They were so hard to come by as it was.
    “Always,” Nick replied with confidence, but Silas knew better than to believe him. Nick still had a lot of learning to do.
    By the time Silas thought to respond, Nick was gone. The documents still in his hand, he made no progress. He was torn.
    There was only one person he could talk to, one person who would understand what was at stake.
    Silas stowed the papers in his antique leather folder and set them in the locked drawer of his desk. Even with Nick out of sector for the day, he wouldn’t risk exposing this particular secret.
    In the corridors of CPI, his little world, Silas put on an air of nonchalance he hardly felt. It wouldn’t do to worry them. He had to keep up the façade of control, even if it was a lie.
    That was his burden.
    “Knox put some shrimp ceviche in the galley.” Osip smiled as he passed. “White chocolate wasabi sauce, too.”
    “Sounds fantastic,” he admitted. “I’ll be over shortly. Save some for me, would you?” It was hard to be sour with Osip around.
    But Silas had other business.
    “Hey, can you bring me another bottle?” he called back to Osip. He had a feeling he’d be needing it after this.
    “Sure thing, Dr. A. I’ll put it in your office.”
    With his spirits mildly lifted, Silas continued to the last door. A quiet knock on the wooden door was answered with, “Come in, Silas,” as always.
    The arched door swung open into the dim lamplight, illuminating the space that was home in so many ways. There were lush carpets, the patterned chaise lounge, the French provincial tea table, a polished cedar bed set tucked into the corner adorned with crimson floral