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Chapters (53)
  1. Cover
  2. Praise for
  3. Dedication
  4. Epigraph
  5. 1
  6. 2
  7. 3
  8. 4
  9. 5
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. 8
  13. 9
  14. 10
  15. 11
  16. 12
  17. 13
  18. 14
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. 17
  22. 18
  23. 19
  24. 20
  25. 21
  26. 22
  27. 23
  28. 24
  29. 25
  30. 26
  31. 27
  32. 28
  33. 29
  34. 30
  35. 31
  36. 32
  37. 33
  38. 34
  39. 35
  40. 36
  41. 37
  42. 38
  43. 39
  44. 40
  45. 41
  46. 42
  47. 43
  48. 44
  49. 45
  50. EPILOGUE
  51. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  52. About the Author
  53. What’s next onyour reading list?

“You can do this,” she whispered, knowing she would be facing down more than a judge and a team of lawyers. This time it would be harder. Personal. Waiting for the patent to clear on her chip was miserable, but the angel investments had come quickly once she started telling her story. The original design she had created aboard the Brigantine bore little resemblance to the final product, but it had been a start.

“Just tell them what you know,” Rosalyn added under her breath. The door in front of her was crisp and white, unmarked. That seemed fitting for a path leading to the dangerous unknown. She slid the sleeve of her shirt down on her right arm, reading the little words over and over again to herself as she waited, terrified but undeterred. If only Edison were there with her, but he would tell his story from quarantine. It wasn’t so bad, he kept insisting, at least there was plenty of Jell-O.

With nothing to do, he had sent many, probably too many, jazz playlists for her to listen to while she built her new company from the ground up. It would have been so much easier with him there to hold her hand and wink from behind his spectacles, but Rosalyn would manage. Her hair had begun growing out, and she pushed a strand defiantly behind her ear, standing up straight.

Survivor. That was what Misato kept calling her. Maybe she was right. If she could survive Foxfire’s desolation, an exploding space station and the collapse of her family’s reputation and business, then she could survive a simple testimony.

“What does it mean?”

Rosalyn started, spilling some of her coffee. To her right, Josh Girdy fidgeted in his signature gray suit. His hair looked extra shiny. He looked just as nervous as she did to tell the GATE agents what he knew.

“Ikke gi opp,” she told him, butchering the Norwegian. But she smiled and adjusted her sleeve, the door in front of them hissing open. It was time. “Fight back.”

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

First and foremost, a tremendous amount is owed to Anne Sowards for her insight, patience and guidance on this project. I’m also extremely grateful to the team at Ace for their hard work, patience and creativity. Kate McKean for being the best in the business and a reliable partner. My friends and family for their love and support during this difficult project, especially Marcella Waugh for her scientific insight and Alex Cautley for his tech help. A huge thanks to Henry Eide and Kjersti Kirkeby for their Norwegian expertise.

About the Author

Photo by Colin O