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“If the FRX is that determined to control us,” the woman says, “what can we do to save ourselves?”

The camera shifts again. A group of people are at the table in the navigational room, deep in conversation.

“They voted,” a young woman says. “The majority of the crew want to land the ship. ” She is fierce, this woman, tall and dark with wild hair. She wears vivid red, but everyone else in the room wears muted colors. And they all already look defeated.

Captain Davis slams his fists against the table. “Don’t they see the danger in that? Don’t they see the terrible fate that’s befallen my little girl? The FRX doesn’t want a colony, it wants slaves!”

“We can fight—” the young woman starts.

“How? We don’t have many weapons, not ones like the FRX has. If they can’t control us with Phydus, they’ll drop solar bombs on our heads. ” Everyone but the young woman seems to agree with Captain Davis.

“So—what? We’re going to just stay on the ship? Forever?” she demands.

Captain Davis spreads his empty hands out in front of her. “What other option do we have?”

“We will fight,” the woman in red says. “We’ll fight you if we have to!”

“No,” Captain Davis says simply. “You will not. ”

The image fades out, but it doesn’t matter, I know what happened next. I can see it in my mind as clearly as the images on the video. Captain Davis uses Phydus—not the drug mixed with the gen modifiers that the FRX gave him, but a variation of it—to control the rebels and contain the ship. Fear of Phydus kept them from landing, then use of it kept them subdued.

This is where Orion’s twisted mind latched onto the idea of us all being turned into slaves or soldiers. Because it already happened once before.

Suddenly, another image appears on the camera. No sound. Just the girl, Captain Davis’s daughter. She looks leaner and fiercer, but at the same time, she’s subdued, controlled. A tame lioness. She sits on the stool, staring vacantly ahead. I wonder what happened to her. I wonder if the Inhibitors ever worked on her.

The camera zooms in closer to her face. Her startling blue eyes. Such a strange color, almost clear, with irises . . . unusual irises . . . .

I’ve only ever seen eyes like that once before.

I’m suddenly aware that Chris has not spoken in a long time. I turn slowly.

His gun is leveled at my head.

64: ELDER

Bartie stands by the door to the bridge of the auto-shuttle. His eyes are still wide and disbelieving as the vid feed continues playing for Amy to see on Centauri-Earth. Godspeed is our—his—home. It’s a spaceship, yes, but also part farm, part bio-dome, and all used and old and lived in. The auto-shuttle is made of gleaming chrome and white. It looks pristine, especially compared to us, covered in gray dust from the destruction of the Plague Eldest’s statue.

His eyes linger on the window over the control panel. He’s seen the stars and the planet once before, from the bridge of the shuttle before we departed. But since then, he must have given up any hope of seeing them again. There were no hatches, no workable doors on the rest of Godspeed.

“I’d almost forgotten . . . ” he says, staring.

I grin at him. “Wait till you see it from the planet’s surface. ”

I can tell by his face that he’s not quite registered what’s in store for him.

“We should leave as quickly as possible,” I add, bringing us back to the serious task at hand.

Bartie makes an all-call to the ship’s inhabitants, letting them know first of my arrival with a new shuttle and second that he’s planning on moving everyone out to it. He gives orders to slaughter any remaining livestock and package it for transport and that only items linked to our survival can be taken.

I watch him as he commands his people?

??because they are his people now, not mine. Bartie recognizes something in my look because he smiles at me. “I know, when we land, it can’t be like it was before,” he says. “I don’t plan on overthrowing whatever rule you have on Centauri-Earth. I just want to make sure we survive. ”

I shake my head. “It’s not like that. The frozens woke up, and they have their own ruler. Amy’s dad actually. And it’s not like we’re sitting around trying to make a government. All we’ve been doing is surviving, and we haven’t been very good at that. ”

“Maybe we’ll be able to help when we land. ”

“Will they fight against leaving?” I ask, remembering the last time we tried to land.

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