Audrey thought I should dress sexy for this, but I didn’t agree with her, and I definitely didn’t want to wear the tiny biker shorts and tank that I used for under my suit. Instead, I’d borrowed a pair of her navy scrubs. They felt like the more professional option, even rolled at the top to keep them from dragging on the floor.

The way Carl had been described to me I didn’t think he’d care about what I was wearing or anything I had to say.

Getting him to hear me out was going to be my biggest challenge. I didn’t have much of a plan for how to do that, which made me nervous. I liked a good plan, with a handful of backup plans, but Abaddon left me with almost no options.

My wrist unit went off—thirty seconds until twenty-two hundred—and I started down the hallway. The door to the bar opened as soon as I reached it. Ahiga exited without sparing me a glance.

It was a little obvious, but Ahiga knew as well as I did that we weren’t lasting much longer here. SpaceTech had to be wondering why he kept going to the med bay whenever I was there.

Inside, the bar was packed. I expected it to smell like cheap beer and sweat, and that’s exactly what it smelled like. Nearly everyone in there wore navy and gray SpaceTech uniforms of some sort—camo, athletic wear, and a few more formal guys in gray button-downs and navy slacks.

I kept my head down as I moved through the room. I wasn’t sure what this Carl would look like, only that he was old and sat alone. Which actually helped a lot, because most of the guys in here were young and gathered around tables, playing cards or shooting the shit loudly with each other.

I finally spotted Carl off to the side. As expected, he was at a table by himself, flicking his fingers in the air. His solid white hair made him stick out from all the decades-younger officers in the bar. He was hunched over a pint, not paying attention to any of the noise around him. Instead, focusing on whatever his implant was showing him.

I wondered what he was watching. Did a guy like him still care about the news? Or was he playing a game to take his mind off of the job he hated?

I took a second to gather up my courage, and then made my way to his table. I pulled out the chair across from him, and he barely spared me a glance.

This was already going so well. “Hello.”

“Go somewhere else.” His face was lined with wrinkles, highlighted by the intense scowl he was giving me.