Drew Karpyshyn - Ascension

"Wanting to see his daughter right away isn't being selfish," Kahlee countered.

"The last few months she's been getting up early anyway," Jiro added. "She only sleeps a few hours a night. The rest of the time she just sits up in bed with the lights off and stares at the wall. I think it has something to do with her condition."

A sour grimace crossed Hendel's face. "Nobody told me that." He took his job seriously, and he didn't like it when other people knew more about the habits and behaviors of the students than he did.

He's looking for a fight, Kahlee thought. She'd have to keep a close eye on him; she wasn't about to let him ruin this visit for Grayson or Gillian.

"There wasn't anything you could do about it," Kahlee answered coolly. "Besides, Dr. Sanchez said it's nothing to worry about."

Hendel picked up on the unspoken warning in her tone and let the matter drop. For a few minutes they stood without speaking, just staring out the window. Hendel broke the silence with a seemingly innocent comment.

"So, it sounds like your old friend is in the running for one of the Council seats," he noted.

"Old friend?" Jiro asked, curious.

"Captain David Anderson," the security chief explained, seemingly oblivious to Kahlee's reflection in the window, scowling at him. "They served together in the Alliance."

"How come you never mentioned him before?" Jiro wondered, turning to her.

"It was a long time ago," she replied, trying to sound blase about it. "We haven't talked in years."

There was an uncomfortable silence, and Kahlee could only imagine the questions running through Jiro's head. He was a confident young man, but it still must have been unsettling to realize his girlfriend had a previous relationship with one of humanity's most well-known military heroes. When he finally spoke again, she was caught completely off-guard by what he said.

"I'd rather see Ambassador Udina on the Council."

"Interesting to see how that all plays out," Hendel replied, though he did raise a curious eyebrow.

Further conversation was cut off by a sharp beep emanating from the intercom above their heads, warning of an incoming vessel. Through the observation window they could see red lights flashing outside, on the perimeter of one of the docking bays. A few seconds later Grayson's ship — a small, high-end corporate shuttle — drifted into view.

The shuttle maneuvered into position, moving silently in the vacuum of space. It settled into one of the hangars, and Kahlee felt the slightest bump under her feet as a pair of large, automated docking clamps locked the ship into place. A fully enclosed platform extended out from the station to connect with the shuttle's doors, latching tight. The pressurized, oxygen-filled tunnel allowed passengers to go from vessels docked at the exterior landing bays directly into the confines of the station without having to go through the bother of putting on spacesuits.

"All right, let's go down and meet our guest," Hen-del muttered, making no effort to hide his displeasure.

Passengers exiting their vessels would come down the tunnel into the waiting room, a large antechamber with transparent, bulletproof walls. Several waist-high poles linked at the top by heavy red rope snaked their way back and forth through the room, creating an area where visitors lined up when they arrived en masse. At the end of the queue a yellow line had been painted on the floor. Beyond the line stood a pair of Alliance guards, both armed — a reminder to anyone coming aboard that the Grissom Academy was a joint military-civilian operation.

Behind the guards, a single door led from the waiting room into the reception area beyond, where another Alliance soldier sat at a computer to register all arrivals and departures. The door was kept closed until the soldier working the registration desk was satisfied that the individuals in the waiting room had authorization to come onto the station.

Grayson was already in the waiting room when they reached reception, pacing impatiently back and forth just behind the yellow line. The guards inside the room with him simply stood at attention, seeming not to notice his urgency.

The young woman behind the registration desk glanced up as Hendel approached, her face brightening when she recognized the Ascension Project's security chief.

You re wasting your time, sister, Kahlee thought.

"One visitor, as scheduled," she said, her voice a little too light and breezy to sound completely professional. "Just waiting for clearance."

"Let him through," Hendel said with a sigh.

She smiled, and punched some buttons on her keyboard. A small green light above the glass door flickered on and there was an audible click as the lock disengaged. A moment later the door swung silently open.

"Go on in, Mr. Grayson," Kahlee heard one of the guards inside the waiting room say, but Grayson was practically through the door already anyway.

He looks like bell, Kahlee thought.

Grayson was wearing a simple business suit and carrying an expensive-looking briefcase; his clothes were clean and freshly pressed, and it was obvious he had recently shaved. Despite these efforts, there was an unhealthy, almost desperate look about him. Always a thin man, he looked positively skeletal now; his clothes seemed to be hanging off him. His face was drawn and haggard, his eyes sunken and bloodshot, his lips dry and cracked. She still wasn't willing to completely concede to Hendel's accusation that he was a drug addict, but he certainly looked like a duster.

"Good to see you again, Mr. Grayson," Kahlee said, stepping forward and offering her introduction before Hendel could say something inappropriate.

"It's been a long time," the security chief added, undeterred by her efforts. "We were starting to think you'd forgotten where to find us."

"I'd come more often if I could," Grayson replied, shaking Kahlee's hand but looking at Hendel as he spoke. He didn't seem angry. If anything, he sounded almost apologetic. Or guilty. "Things have been. . complicated. . lately."

"Gillian was very excited when we told her you were coming, sir," Jiro chimed in from over Kahlee's shoulder.

"I'm looking forward to seeing her, Dr. Toshiwa," he replied, smiling. Kahlee noticed his teeth were discolored, as if covered with a faintly luminous sheen— another telltale sign of a duster.

"Do you want me to take your case?" Hendel asked, almost grudgingly.

"I'd prefer to keep it with me," Grayson replied, and Kahlee noticed a faint look of disapproval cross HendePs features.

"Come on," she said, taking Grayson by the forearm and gently turning him away from Hendel. "Let's go see your daughter."

"I'm sorry about the poor timing of my arrival," Grayson said to her as they made their way through the Academy toward the Ascension Project dorms. "I always have trouble adjusting my schedule to local time."

"It's not a problem, Mr. Grayson," she assured him. "You're welcome to come see Gillian anytime, day or night."

"I feel bad about waking her up," he continued. "But I have to leave again in a few hours."

"We'll just let her sleep through her classes tomorrow," Hendel remarked, walking a few steps behind them.

Grayson didn't acknowledge him, and Kahlee wasn't sure if he'd even heard the comment. But it put an end to the conversation until they reached Gillian's room.

Kahlee waved her hand in front of the access panel, and the door slid open.

"Lights — on," she said softly, and illumination filled the room.

Gillian wasn't sleeping. As Jiro had warned them, she was sitting cross-legged on her bed, on top of the covers. She was wearing a faded pink pair of pajamas that looked to be a size too small; Kahlee remembered they had been a gift from Grayson on her birthday a few months ago.