The hologram of Steven Baflin sized her up for a moment, flickering faintly in the sterile light.
Plukett didn't flinch. She crossed her legs and met his ghostly stare.
"Hello, Doctor. Been dead looks good on you. How's the Grim Keeper doing?"
He didn't answer.
"I figured it out," she continued. "Morgan Hayes. He looked—"
"I didn't know he was going to die," Baflin cut in, his voice dry and distant. "That wasn't my intention. Just… luck, I guess."
He leaned forward slightly, the projection fuzzing.
"Bineth were on to me and so was he. They'd learned of my unsanctioned work and how far I had gone after they let me walk. I was scrambling for a way out. Then I saw him. It clicked. Offered him my car. Unity-450—hell of a ride. I figured a joyride might distract them, just long enough."
"Then the crash?" Plukett asked.
Baflin closed his eyes and shook his head, something like grief catching at the edge of his mouth.
"It wasn't a crash. Not an accident. He was killed."
His voice lowered, regret and pain faded in.
"He probably thought I was the one. When he realized I'd slipped away—again—he killed him. Just like my wife and the other two."
Plukett leaned back, her mind racing. Threads were weaving together, slowly but surely.
"Who is he? Your partner? And more importantly—where can I find him?"
Silence.
Baflin hesitated. The glow around his form pulsed faintly, a visual manifestation of internal conflict. He didn't want to say it. Maybe he couldn't.
"I need a name, Doctor," she pressed.
"I'm guessing you want something. That's why you reached out."
He exhaled, holographically.
"Syllicon laid me off. My work was declared unsanctioned. But I wouldn't stop. They knew it."
A flicker of emotion crossed his features.
"My daughter—her body's own antibodies were attacking her. Because of the Bineths that let her walk. She has neurospinal degradation syndrome. Constant pain. Always."
His voice trembled.
"Bineth offered hope. Research funding. So I took it."
"And when they realized funding doesn't equal miracle cures in a month, they shut you down," Plukett finished.
But Baflin shook his head, a bitter smile twitching his lips.
"That's what people think. That's what I let them think."
He leaned in.
"My research was to cure her but to do that I needed to understand Bineths themselves. Their makeup. Their behavior when introduced to immune systems. To do that… I had to dig deeper than anyone outside Bineth's terms and conditions."
He looked at her, something knowing in his eyes.
"You know what happens when you go down rabbit holes, Plukett. You don't find rabbits, you find a paradox,"
She sat still. Listening.
"And he—the one you're looking for—he told me things. Things you wouldn't believe."
Plukett scoffed lowering her lenses and revealing her cyborg laser eyes.
"Try me,"
"I see, you are also like him. Then you understand."
Plukett narrowed her eyes.
"You still haven't introduced me to this mystery partner of yours."
They were interrupted.
A soft chime sounded overhead.
"Approaching Orion Terminal Delta. Fifteen minutes to destination."
Baflin straightened. His eyes were harder now. More resolved.
"My daughter. I've sent you her data and location. Bineth has her under special watch. They know I'll try to get her out—and so does he."
He hesitated, then added,
"I want her safe. If you get her out, I'll give you more than a name. I'll give you what they're all chasing—the key to everything. The reason this whole mess exists."
He smiled faintly.
"When you have her… I'll find you."
The moonbus slowed as it hovered over magnetic lines, humming into the terminal.
Plukett blinked—just once—and the seat across from her was empty.
The comms in her ear went dead. No beeps. No updates. Just silence.
"Damn it," she muttered.
She turned to face the terminal as the doors hissed open.