For a woman who had come across as broken and dispirited, Michaela Hailwood must have reached down inside herself and found some hidden reserve. Probably that core personality that had managed to get her appointed to the Donovan mission in the first place.

From a chair off to the side, Kalico sat like a spectator as Hailwood stood before the rest of her team. They sat at their accustomed spots in the cafeteria, apparently ready to hear anything but what Michaela was telling them.

“This is it, people,” Hailwood’s voice was steady now, resolution in her eyes. “So, we’ve had our first casualty. Someone we all loved, cherished, and relied on. And now we’ve had the time to mourn, to assess, and wonder what comes next.

“I’m the Director, appointed by the Board, and I have the support of Board Supervisor Aguila. My decision is that we go back to work with the realization that we are going to have to make some adjustments to our methodology. But we are going back to work, nonetheless.”

Kalico monitored the stirring in the audience, the hooded and shared glances, the shifting and uneasy postures.

Hailwood continued, not missing a beat. “We have to be smart, people. We have to find another way to do our jobs because that’s the only option open to us. Since we set foot dirtside, we’ve run smack into a new set of rules, a different way of living. Some of you may have heard this phrase when we were in Port Authority: ‘People come to Donovan to leave, to find themselves, or to die.’”

The shifting intensified, the expressions reflecting frustration, confusion, or dismay, as people looked back and forth.

“Me, I’m not here to die, so I guess that puts me in the position of finding out who I am. Just to remind myself—and you—I’m the Science Director of the Maritime Unit. That means I’m here to study Donovan’s oceans. As are you.”

“Deadly oceans, you mean,” Bryan Atumbo called.

Kalico remembered that he was a UUV Tech Level I with a pilot rating for the subs, seatrucks, and UUVs.

Hailwood clasped her hands before her. “Deadly oceans. Correct. I would have thought that after what happened to Shin, that fact would be so apparent no one would have to be reminded. Perhaps I’m wrong.”

“We know,” Yoshimura called in a low but firm voice. “Go on, Michaela.”