DON'T LOOK AT ME

~

'Kelly?'

The officers marched toward navigation. Their captives trailed ahead of them, limbs lurching, lights glimmering about their necks.

'Yes?'

'In your, in the—in our sleeper pods, who's our cargo, exactly?'

'Why, that's classified information, navigation specialist.'

Lambert rattled off an authorisation.

'No need to get snippy,' said Kelly. 'Cataclysmists, mostly; cultists and traitors and general busybodies.'

'Oh,' said Orpecia.

Wills flicked her helmet. 'I asked you a question.'

'I don't . . .' she started, her throat taut with buried dread. Wills' look stopped her. God, she hoped she was wrong. 'I need to see.'

The last bulkhead ground open and torchlight peered through. Navigation glinted back, sprawled and dead, a cragged marblework of fused metal. Stepping through, Wills rapped a knuckle on a stalactite of cooled steel. The ceiling sagged with them. 'Some fire,' he muttered.

At Orpicea's direction they picked their way between caved-in displays and bulging supports. They gathered themselves around one of the outer partitioning walls and found the suit tether viced in its teeth. Lambert barked a command. Locks disengaged and it shuddered open. The tether trailed out into space, coiling gently, its far end attached to nothing.

'Full disclosure,' Orpicea said, swallowing. 'I may've thawed one of the sleepers and crammed them into that suit.'

The officers turned on her. Pardoux craned his head. 'What?'

'Hey,' she said. 'Had to explain the escape pod somehow.'

Lambert opened her mouth but the ship talked over her. 'It's getting near my engine. Hello?' A pause. 'This is a ship-wide announcement. Will all unregistered personnel please return to their suit tethers.'

'Wills,' said Lambert. 'Get—'

'I repeat! Under no circumstances attempt to access the reactor via the thruster exhaust! That is a no-person zone!'

Orpicea's collar blipped and her suit jolted forward. She struggled against it. 'Wait—'

'—Get back to the patrol craft,' finished Lambert, pocketing the collar control. 'Burst a call back to Tynte. Make sure they know what's happening.' She unreeled Orpicea's suit tether and hooked it to her own. 'You,' she said, 'are coming with me.'

'Sir.' She looked back. Wills winked. 'Careful,' he said, then spun Pardoux around and charged him out of navigation.

'This isn't necessary—' Orpicea began, and then Lambert kicked her out of the ship.