She had cleaned Stanley’s tank one last time, saying goodbye, hoping Saruti would do a good job with him. He would go live on her desk at work, occupying a space there while Rosalyn forfeited hers. That last time and every time she cleaned his tank, a familiar warning would pop up as she emptied the cleaning pellets into the water.

“Stanley,” she breathed, staring up at the watery light of the aquarium.

“Who?” Misato asked. She and Edison joined Rosalyn, standing just a few inches behind.

“My pet,” she said, confidence building. Striding over to the counter, she followed its edge until she reached the end, and the logical place for a trash bin. Kneeling, she reached in and plucked out a pill bottle. Shaking it, a few capsules rattled around inside.

“Tuva didn’t have an AR implant,” she continued, popping open the bottle and dumping out the remaining capsules. “If she had, it would have flashed up on mine when I examined her. Those things emit a weak signal for months, usually for memorial stuff. Which means . . .”

“She wouldn’t have had any warning,” Misato finished.

As soon as the capsule was in spitting distance of Rosalyn’s visor, her display flashed another warning, this time detecting concentrated levels of cyanide.

“Stanley,” she said, standing. “My pet fish. There’s a form of cyanide in aquarium cleaner. It comes in powder or capsules.”

Misato and Edison regarded each other for a long moment, silent.

“Son of a bitch,” he finally muttered. “Misato, I should have listened to you.”

“I knew it. I knew he did it.” Misato turned away from them both, going to stand in front of the aquarium, her hands spreading across the ripples of light on the surface. “What did you find, Tuva? What did you know?”

“She must have had a bunk,” Rosalyn said. “Personal items. Maybe there’s something there that you missed. Just knowing that Piero poisoned her doesn’t mean anything unless we know why. The Foxfire already has him; it’s not like he’s going to get a trial, right? We should take another look.”

Edison’s head jerked to the side suddenly and he put up his hand. “Yes, yes we should.” Then, more softly to Misato, “He’s coming.”

“I sense him, too. He’s angry.”

Rosalyn tensed, dropping the pills back into the bin as Edison advanced toward her fast, grabbing her by the arm and dragging her toward the rear of the crew lounge before she could protest. There was a hatch past the freezer and food storage, one similar to the ladder that led down to the dead drop in the cold room. Edison pushed her toward it when she wouldn’t move, and Rosalyn stumbled into the ladder’s rungs, then took hold.

“Just climb, the rear bunks are up there. Tuva’s things. Just climb, damn it.”