Waypoint Kangaroo Read Online Free PDF Page B

across the desk, toward me. “I want you to return this to Oliver and apologize to him.”
    I pick up the canteen. “This, uh, ‘vacation’ isn’t at a nice farm upstate, is it?”
    He hands me the folder. I open it cautiously. Inside, there’s a transport ticket, a set of legend identity papers, and a brochure for a pleasure cruise to Mars.
    The planet Mars. Several hundred million kilometers away. Which I haven’t been allowed to visit since before the war. I’m not sure I actually want to go back. But I’m pretty sure Paul isn’t giving me a choice here.
    â€œThis department is being audited,” Paul says. “State and CIA were developing a relationship with KNB, and your exfil raised several red flags in management.”
    KNB is Kazakh National Security. If CIA was also involved—and the Hungarian Special Service—my stomach starts turning.
    â€œI’ve just been ordered to open up our files for internal review,” Paul continues. “The brass are not going to like what they find, and I don’t want you here for the fire drill.”
    It shouldn’t bother me so much. Paul’s sent me all the way to Pluto on missions before. But this is different. He doesn’t need me to go do something crucial to national or planetary security. He just wants to get me out of his hair. Like a parent banishing a noisy child who’s preventing the adults from getting their work done.
    Maybe I’m still just a kid who can’t stay out of trouble.
    â€œWhat about EQ and Surge?” I ask. I don’t like calling Oliver and Jessica by their names when I’m talking to Paul. And I don’t like feeling helpless.
    â€œWe’ll be fine. Your elevator leaves tonight. You’d better start packing.”
    His look tells me I shouldn’t argue any more. I stand up.
    â€œThanks for the ticket.” It’s a dumb thing to say, but I don’t have anything else. My mind is a fog.
    â€œYou’re welcome,” Paul says. “Don’t forget Oliver on your way out. He’ll be happy to see his canteen again.”
    *   *   *
    The door to Paul’s office closes behind me, and I realize he didn’t say anything about my suit. Not a word asking why I’m all dressed up, when I usually show up at the office in a short-sleeved shirt, jeans, and sneakers. I look down at my pointy-toed dress shoes. Man, I even paid to get these polished.
    I can’t decide whether Paul’s inattention is more annoying than the fact that I have to apologize to Oliver about the canteen. At least the former distracts me from the latter.
    Oliver and the flying disk are both gone when I return to the workshop. I place the canteen on the corner of the table, find a tablet that doesn’t appear to be running any special software, open a blank note, and scrawl FOUND IT SORRY BYE on the touchscreen.
    I place the tablet next to the canteen, then walk out of the workshop feeling strangely empty. Usually, when I leave that room, I’ve loaded up the pocket with gadgets and weapons, ready to take on the world. It occurs to me that even though I admire Oliver, I’ve never tried to make friends with him. Never asked him out for a drink, never asked about his family. I always thought I was keeping my work and personal lives separate, but now I realize I don’t actually have much of a personal life.
    What the hell am I going to do with an entire month off duty, and off-world?
    I nearly walk into Jessica as she enters the corridor. I instinctively raise my hands, palms up, to show that I’m not touching anything inappropriate.
    â€œSorry,” I say.
    â€œNo harm done,” she says, resuming her walk toward the stairwell. “Enjoy your cruise.”
    I stare at the back of her white lab coat for a moment, then run after her, overtake her, and spin on my heel, blocking her path. She looks up with an annoyed