Syzygy: The Complete Series 2v6d4o

SYZYGY

The Complete Series

J.K. Ullrich

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons—living or dead—is coincidental.

Copyright © 2019 by J.K. Ullrich

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means—including electronic methods—without the prior written permission of the author, except for brief quotations used in critical reviews.

Cover design by J.K. Ullrich Images rendered using the web application PlanetMaker

Published by Spækona Press

ISBN: 978-1-950406-03-6

For my niblings— May you prove me wrong about the future.

syzygy (syz·y·gy\ˈsi-zə-jē) 1. the alignment of three celestial bodies. 2. a pair of connected or corresponding things.

CONTENTS

I. Transient Phenomena Signal Dive Alone Record Shack Darksider Everest Hero II. Opposition Effect Team Descent Gravity Crash Ghosts III. Retrograde Motion

Lily Tenax Flight Crush Traitor Breathe Discovery IV. Escape Velocity Clean Return Sanctuary Dust Judgment Proof Relics V. Red Shift Lineage Power Recruits Needle Sound

Blood Symbionts Crater Mars VI. Right Ascension Luna Resistance Rescue Shatter Generation Destiny Ascension Home

I. Transient Phenomena

1

Signal

Even tresing had a languid elegance in low gravity. She poured herself across the landscape, cloaked in the two-week-long night. Ponderous automated machines tilled regolith, extracting water and minerals and spitting wakes of soil. She clung beneath their bellies and rummaged in their guts. Her fingers, nimble despite the bulky gloves, knew the components so well that she could pluck them out by feel alone. “Power cells…hope they can adapt for helium-3…distributor pump…need that for the life system…bioplastic tubing! That will keep the seedlings alive!” The words filled the oppressive loneliness inside her helmet. When she’d harvested all she could without disabling the machine, she detached and found it had carried her within sight of Shackleton Crater. Solar arrays and heliostats glittered in the permanent sunlight on its rim. Beyond lay the old mining colony, an accretion of grey lunarcrete domes. Tiny lights milled around it, the headlamps of suited workers toiling in the darkness. Mother’s molten mantle, I’m too close! If they see me…. She scurried behind the nearest boulder and her gloves brushed metal. Not a rock—a rover. A dead one. The vehicle lay canted in a ditch, its front axle snapped. “Is that why you’re walking home?” she called to the distant figures, the helmet keeping her silence. Hurry, before they come back. Snickering, she plundered the vehicle for rare artifacts never found aboard the automated extractors: navigational computers, emergency medical kits, communications equipment. Her eager hands brushed a large plastic case tucked under the driver’s seat. Dragging it free, she thumbed the catch. Air

vanished from her lungs. “Are all the pieces here?” She hardly dared to answer her own question. One by one, she lifted out the components. How long since I’ve held an antenna, a tuner, an amplifier? The once-familiar gadgets felt good in her palms. “No. Madurai will throw you out the airlock if she finds out that you did telemetry again,” she snapped at herself. But her hands wouldn’t shut the case. She glanced down at her oxygen meter. “There’s still time.” She carted the loot and bounded back to her own transport. The old rover, weighed down with scrap, grumbled when she turned the ignition. “Don’t you give up on me, too,” she growled, and the car lurched forward, levitating a few inches when its chunky tires bounced over a rock. Excitement and dread needled her fingertips. One hundred and twenty kilometers brought her to Malapert Mountain. The space elevator's cable shimmered at its peak. In the black beyond, a hazy crescent gleamed like a sleepy blue eye. Skirting the space elevator station and its security cameras, she parked the rover and climbed back through the suitport to kneel in the grey dirt. Her hands trembled so much that she could barely assemble the kit. The tiny computer screen made a beacon in the dark; she cupped a glove around it, hoping no one could see it from the station. “Are you still there?” she whispered, skimming through frequencies. Radio waves appeared as a pulsing white blossom on the visual display. “Please, say something.” There. A burst of pixels, a surge of excitement in her chest. The signal played out and repeated, over and over in a silent fractal. She knew it like her own heartbeat. “That’s it,” she breathed. “It’s still there. She wasn’t crazy. Someone is calling us.”

2

Dive

Most people couldn't hear Hummingbirds, but Ash could. Its shrill whine made his molars itch. Tightening his precarious grip, he pressed flat to the wall as the ultrasonic beam shot into an air vent above his head. Squeals echoed in the duct and a massive rat tumbled out, plummeting into the swamp below. Ash watched it fall and swallowed his dizziness; the splash against the dirty brown water exaggerated his sense of height. Thorn and Hazel, huddled together on the roof of a half-submerged car, stared up at him along the barrels of their weapons. "Watch where you stick your hands,” Thorn called, lowering the gun but keeping his finger poised near the trigger. "There's never just one of those little monsters." Like I really need a reminder of how many things on this planet would take a bite out of me. Ash turned back to the wisp of green poking from a crack in the masonry above his head. He stretched for a new handhold. Concrete chips flaked off, pinging against his goggles. The narrow ledge under his boots eroded as he scrabbled for purchase. "You're gonna die." Hazel's voice, almost as high-pitched as the Hummingbird's beam, sounded more amused than concerned. "I hate training weeds," Ash muttered. The words bounced off the clear plastic mask covering his mouth and nose and slipped back under his tongue, unheard. He hauled himself a few centimeters higher. The plant taunted him, just out of reach against the pallid sky. It could be edible, or medicinal, or just a good nitrogen fixer. You won’t know if you don’t get it. Ash bent his knees, straining the armored ts of his suit, and leaped. A moment of suspension—his hand brushed the plant’s tendrils—then gravity yanked him back down to swing from one arm. Tension ripped through his shoulder. The filtration unit on his belt slammed against the concrete. He

flinched at the sound. If the canister cracked…. Pushing aside the dread, Ash focused on getting back to the ground. Or rather to water level; there wasn't much visible land in the city's flooded downtown quarter, just leftover urban infrastructure decaying into the ripples. He dropped onto the car’s roof and immediately inspected his filter. The small indicator disc still showed green, tinged with faint yellow. Relief left a warm mist on the inside of his mask. “Still breathing clean? Good. Crisis averted, as usual.” Thorn clapped him on the back. “I swear, you’re the luckiest bastard on this planet.” “Not hard, since there's never more than thirty people on it at any one time.” “And modest, too. Come on, let's see it.” Opening his hand, Ash examined his prize: a sprig of blunt leaves with a cluster of tiny purple flowers. He sighed. “I think we’ve already got this one.” “All that for a rerun?” Hazel asked, wrinkling her short nose at the plant. “I thought you were trying to break Lily’s record, not your neck.” “It’s not about winning points, it’s about collecting as many unique specimens as we can,” Ash told her. He opened his hard-shelled backpack and ran a finger along the vials racked inside until he found an empty one. “But if our team winds up on the all-time leaderboard, we won't mind,” said Thorn. Something thudded gently against the car: the rat, floating on the tide amid eddies of garbage and foam. Ash fished it out by its tail. Yellow incisors the length of his hand protruded from its muzzle. “Halley smokes, it’s a big one,” said Hazel. “You wish,” said Ash. Pulling the alloy knife from its sheath on his leg, he

shaved a bit of the rat’s mangy pelt. “You’re logging this one, too?” asked Hazel, surprised. “You must have seen a thousand of these ugly things by now. How different can they be?” “You never know where genetic variants will turn up.” Ash laid the stunned creature on the windshield, where it twitched under the fading effects of the Hummingbird. “Especially with the ultraviolet levels down here. It can cause DNA mutations, so even life forms that look the same outside aren’t necessarily identical inside.” “Kind of like us,” said Thorn, slinging an arm around Ash’s shoulders. “Just because we’re twins doesn’t mean I’m anything like our solemn Gatherer here, thankfully.” “I never thought you looked that much alike,” said Hazel. “At least, no more than anyone else in the Colony.” “Yeah, but not many of them are two halves of the same petri dish." Hazel shrugged. “Somehow you always look different to me.” “It's the smiles,” said Thorn. “Ash never smiles.” “There's not much to smile about down here,” said Ash. “Come on, it's a beautiful day in the post-apocalyptic neighborhood. The sun is shining….” “Baking us inside our suits.” “The birds are singing….” “Circling, waiting for us to drop dead.” Thorn sighed. “I swear, if we didn’t have the same genes, you’d think we belonged to different sub-species, like Colonists and Darksiders.” “Darksiders are just a story,” Hazel said dismissively. “Only dumb little kids are scared of them.”

“Like you?” Thorn teased. Hazel slung the Hummingbird's strap over her chest. “I’m not scared of anything. I’m going to be a better terranaut than you, or Ash, or even Lily. You’ll see.” Jamming her goggles back into place, she jumped across to the next waterlogged car, wiry thirteen-year-old limbs waving like stems in her new khaki camouflage suit. “Trainees really do look like weeds,” Ash observed. “Out of the whole crop, how did we get stuck with her?” “She’s a cocky little cretin, sure, but so was I when I started,” said Thorn. “Was?” Thorn grinned. “I’m team captain. I’m allowed to be a jerk.” But he belied his own claim, calling out: “Hey, Hazel, wait up! I was just kidding.” They followed her up the flooded street, a rectangular canyon of shattered glass and steel, using vehicles as stepping stones. Forced to keep eyes on his progress, Ash tuned his other senses to the landscape around him: a bird's chatter, the bend of corroded metal under his boots each time he landed, a hint of breeze on the sliver of exposed skin between his cuff and glove. Details inundated him, lush and intoxicating. Wish I could be on Edge all the time. Then there might be something to feel, even at home. “Ash, over here,” Thorn called. He pointed to a utility pole listing over the road. They scrambled across the makeshift bridge and found Hazel perched on a second-floor ledge. The building’s face had crumbled away, revealing a honeycomb of rooms inside. “ when I gave that demo to your trainee class?” Thorn asked. “What did I say was the single most important rule of diving?” Hazel rolled her eyes, and all three of them intoned the phrase in synchrony: “Dive together, survive together.” Ash repeated the mantra by rote—it was a reflex, like breathing or checking

his mask seal before going into the airlock—and concentrated on the insect fluttering near his head. Sunlight glinted through its iridescent wings. An Anisoptera? Maybe a pollinator, or at least a source of protein. He pulled an empty container from his backpack. “They beat that rhyme into us for a reason,” Thorn told Hazel. "We have to look out for each other. No one else will. Once we leave the Vator, we’re on our own. How many times have I saved your butt, Ash?” “Lost count after the first year," said Ash, swiping for the bug. It darted just out of reach. “Me too. I should keep a tally for that instead.” Thorn ran a hand over the plastic strap of his face mask, covered in stylized mountains and trees. “You drew that?” asked Hazel, fingering the sketches. “It's really good. Way better than the lame stars and leaves most terranauts do. Do the trees count your dives?” “No. It’s just a reminder of why we’re here—so the future looks more like my drawing and less like this.” Thorn nodded at the wasteland around them. The insect settled on a mildewed hummock that might have been furniture a century ago. Ash swiped at it. A wing brushed his knuckle and the creature drifted up the stairwell. He sprang into pursuit. “Ash, get back here!” Thorn’s voice rang off the brick, but Ash ignored him. Turn after dank turn, he chased his prey up the empty levels, jumping double steps in places where the treads had fallen through. At the top, the dragonfly darted through a grey-green curtain of moss. Ash swept it aside and a molten sunset dazzled his vision. He staggered blind onto the roof. Wet musk hit his nostrils, potent enough to penetrate the filter. When his sight faded back to normal, he found himself staring into a pair of wild golden eyes. The coywolf, nosing through a bird’s nest on the parapet, froze with one paw raised. Bright yellow egg yolk dripped from the animal's muzzle. It flicked one good ear at Ash—the other hung in shreds. Ash's boots melded to the concrete. The knife on his shin felt a light-year away from his fingertips.

I wonder if I could get a sample of its coat before it eats my face. Someone murmured a command behind him and his teeth shivered at the sound of two Hummingbirds priming to fire. The coywolf burst into a grey blur of motion. It leapt the chasm onto the neighboring roof and disappeared through a broken skylight. “I’m trying to give our weed a lesson in teamwork, and you run off without your Hunters,” Thorn fumed. “Great example, Ash.” “The Anisoptera got away.” “Never mind Anisoptera—you almost got eaten by a Goddard-damned coywolf!” “That was a coywolf?” asked Hazel, disdainful. “Smaller than it looked in the training sims.” “Wait until you’ve got six of them leaping at you.” Thorn peered after the animal, his gun still raised. “It’ll be dusk soon. The predators come out when it’s cooler. We should head back to the quad.” Ash let the hint slide past on the breeze. The city's skeleton sprawled bare before him. Splintered bones of glass and concrete skewered the dying sun and it bled fire along the horizon. A raptor drew circles against the clouds, spiraling lower on the thermoclines. It perched inside a giant letter o, the last remnant of a neon sign, and shrieked. The sound echoed over the rising tide. Ash heard it only faintly: a muffled hum had settled inside his ears, and a dull ache budded behind his eyes. It can’t be wearing off already! We’ve only been out for sixteen hours. I should get almost twenty-four from a double dose. The bird unfurled its wings and took off, a black arrow threading the skyline. It gave Ash an idea. Creeping out to the ruined bird’s nest, he plucked a few downy feathers from the weave. It’s not Anisoptera, but it’s something. “All right, let’s go,” he said.

Thorn led the way downstairs and navigated a route back through the ruins. ing a line of storefronts, Ash caught a flicker of red behind a collapsed entrance. He stopped to examine it. “Careful—it looks like it’s already falling apart,” said Thorn. “I don’t think so,” said Ash. “It’s a brick building, but this stuff in front is concrete. It didn’t come off the structure. Someone blocked the door.” “Probably some mob’s homemade quarantine protocol.” Thorn hauled on a chunk of debris. It didn’t budge. “C’mere, weed. I’m gonna show you something they don’t teach in orbit camp. Stick your Hummingbird’s beak right up against the stone.” Hazel looked skeptical. “Dill told a boy in my training group to try something like that. The sound waves bounced back at him and shattered all his teeth.” “Have I ever done anything like that to you, or any of the other weeds?” Thorn looked uncharacteristically serious. “Stupid pranks like that aren’t just mean, they’re genocidal. We’re already an endangered species.” “Then why do they do it?” “A century in a limited gene pool turns out a lot of defective specimens.” Hazel eyed him for a long moment, then raised her weapon to the obstruction. “What do I need to do?” Thorn pointed out sliders and dials on the Hummingbird’s barrel. “The trick is to keep the power really low until you find the right frequency. You adjust that here and here….” Their voices fell away from Ash’s ears and their figures wavered in his vision. Numbness weighed down his hands. It is wearing off. Goddard damn it all. He clenched and unclenched his fingers inside his gloves, desperate to restore the heightened feeling.

“…three!” Ancient concrete blew apart, disintegrating under the pressure of sound. Ash gasped as noise and vibration shook his sensory flow back to functionality. Somewhere in the cloud of dust and pebbles, Hazel laughed. “That’s more fun than….” She broke off, coughing. Thorn unclipped the filter canister from her belt and smacked it with the heel of his hand, dislodging a spray of sediment. “Particulates really gunk up your filter,” he told her. “Gotta watch out for that. A compromised filter is a good way to get yourself red-ringed.” “I know how to maintain my filter,” Hazel retorted. “We did so many drills….” Ash ignored their bickering and climbed through the rubble into a cavelike room just above the waterline. The headlamp on his goggles flared in the dimness, illuminating a mural that covered the entire back wall. Shielded from the full force of elements, the paint had retained its bold hues. Crude human figures spewed red from their contorted yellow faces. That’s what I saw. Not a lichen or a fruit or anything interesting, just stupid graffiti. An inscription ran across the bottom in black capital letters: THEN SHALL THE DUST RETURN TO THE EARTH AS IT WAS. “Are those supposed to be people with Spores?” Hazel’s voice shimmered in the hollow space. She stared up at the grotesque painting and wiped her hands on her suit, scrubbing off imaginary contaminants. “Probably.” Ash’s headlamp threw an oddly shaped shadow in the corner. Crossing to the spot, he pulled a half-buried object from the sediment. A rictus grin shone up at him. “They must’ve shut some people in here, thinking they were infected,” he said, turning the skull in his hands. “That’s creepy,” Hazel muttered behind him.

“Get used to it, weed. There are about ten billion of those down here,” said Thorn. “Not the skull. The way he cuddles it.” “Oh, that. It’s a Gatherer thing. Most bones have disintegrated or been gnawed to pieces by now, so finding viable human remains makes his day.” “Not just mine. The Repro Lab loves getting new material,” said Ash. He pried out a tooth. Sorry, whoever you were. Settling the skull back into the mud, he noticed a few other fragments scattered nearby and followed the trail to a pile of beams where the upper story had collapsed. “I think there’s a whole skeleton under here. Thorn, help me move this stuff.” Thorn handed Hazel his Hummingbird and helped Ash excavate. Lifting a mass of rotten insulation, Ash heard an angry chittering sound. A dozen beady eyes glared up at him from inside a broken ribcage. “Quark me, it’s a nest!” Thorn yelped, scrambling for his out-of-reach gun. Ash clutched at his knife, but a furry missile launched itself at him. Ivory fangs scraped his chestplate. He flung up his arms to protect his face and mask. A harsh squeal pierced his eardrums and the rat fell back, paralyzed. “I guess that’s a big one,” said Hazel from behind her Hummingbird. Thorn stared at her, surprise and amusement playing on his face like patterns of sun and shade. “I’ll let you put a star on your strap for that.” Hazel fired half a dozen quick bursts, stunning the rat pups as they swarmed out to attack. “Six stars.” Ash knelt to examine the human remains hoarded inside the nest. Two different jawbones! DNA from two distinct individuals. If the Repro Lab uses a few molecules in a new colonist, will that kid grow up to be anything like these people were? Or—

“Ash!” “What?” He looked around, vaguely aware that Thorn had spoken his name several times before it had ed. “You’re bleeding.” Glancing down, Ash saw a few red scratches on his wrist where the rat’s claws had broken through the frayed sleeve of his suit. “It barely broke the skin. It’s fine.” “You’ll still be saying that when it turns black and falls off.” Thorn pulled the small first aid kit from his belt and wrapped one of the antibiotic bandages around Ash’s wound. “Sometimes I think you shouldn’t be allowed out by yourself.” “I’m never by myself, I’ve always got you to—ow!” Ash yelped. Thorn had jabbed a slim injector pen into his arm. “That’d better be the antibiotics and not the sedatives.” “I might need to sedate you to get you out of here. Hurry up with those samples. We really need to leave.” When they crawled back out to the street, the sun had disappeared, leaving a violet bruise in the western sky. “We’ll make the quad before nightfall, right?” Hazel’s cavalier tone sounded strained. “Not likely,” said Thorn. When he glanced over, Ash could almost hear his twin’s voice in his head: Told you so, but saying it now won’t get us out of here alive. Dusk crawled into corners and filled them with licking shadows. Quiet in the sweltering day, the city now came alive with ominous animal sounds. At last the buildings fell back and revealed the flooded lot they’d ed on their way in, hours before. “The quad is this way, crater-brain,” said Hazel, looking back at Thorn.

He frowned over the tenebrous water. “Yeah, and if we go around the lake edge again, it’ll be full dark before we reach it.” “Why don’t we just wade across? It doesn’t look deep.” Ash cranked up the intensity on his headlamp. It cut a blazing swath through mats of flotsam. Is that some kind of aquatic plant? He stared hard at the spot, but the darkness refused to unravel. My night vision is gone, too? This can’t be happening now. I need my senses. I need my Edge. “I’d rather splash through a big puddle than wander around this maze in the dark, watching my filter turn black,” said Hazel. “All right,” said Thorn through his teeth. “Stay close together and watch where you step. If you go under and your filter gets wet….” All three unclipped their canisters, held them high over their heads, and waded into the gloaming. Their lamps cast bright, skittering mosaics over the ripples. Water muttered around Ash’s shins, seeping into his boots. Hazel slogged an arm’s length ahead of him, Thorn the same distance behind. Both held their Hummingbirds primed in their free hands. The water crept from Ash’s knees up to his waist. A sinuous object brushed his leg; he glanced down, adrenaline jolting through his bloodstream. Just some junk under the water. Nothing alive. Keep going. A splash drew his eyes back to the surface. Hazel was gone. He shouted her name, but no response came. “What happened?” Thorn yelled behind him. “Where’d she—” Foam exploded into the air. Hazel thrashed in the spray, wrestling a thick shadow. Scales flung back glare from the headlamps. Ash grabbed his knife and dove forward, plunging the blade into the nearest reptilian flesh. Dark liquid spurted over his gloves. Air shuddered as the beam from Thorn’s Hummingbird shot past. The creature spasmed and disappeared into the morass. Ash hauled Hazel up by her elbow. “You all right?” “Can’t breathe,” she shrieked. The sodden filter canister bobbed beside her.

“Freaking out won’t help,” said Thorn, wading over to them. “You the tandem drills, right?” Wide-eyed, Hazel nodded. She raised dripping fingers to her mask and pulled out the air hose. The cannula sealed itself with a soft pop. Thorn unspooled the auxiliary tube from his own canister and handed Hazel the free end. Hands shaking, she plugged it into her mask. “You can stop holding your breath now,” Thorn told her gently. Hazel took a tentative sip of air, then exhaled so hard she swayed where she stood. “I’m okay,” she gasped. “Let’s go before something else tries to give me a bath.” “Just make sure you stay next to me, okay?” said Thorn. “If you pull the hose out, you’re…well, hosed.” He laughed. Ash groaned, but Hazel mustered a tentative smile. They splashed the last hundred meters to the bank and climbed up to the highway over, where the quad hunched on the hot macadam. “I always underestimate how glad I am to spend hours cramped in an autopiloting bubble.” Thorn ducked under the rotors and tapped the hatch of the small enger cabin. Nothing happened. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.” He crouched beneath the vehicle, Hazel in tow, and his headlamp illuminated an exposed access in its belly. “Looks like the casing popped off when we landed.” Hazel prodded the tangled wires. “It’s all corroded away. This climate must be hell on metals.” “Yeah, and it doesn’t help that the quadcopter fleet is ancient. Parts fall off all the time. And when anything gets left open….” Thorn plunged an arm into the open , felt around, and yanked out a charred animal carcass. “We usually find a prize inside.” “Looks like it gnawed through your main power cable,” said Hazel, inspecting the damage. “That’s why the quad won’t start.” Thorn kicked the saboteur’s furry remains in disgust. “Dammit. We’ll have to find a safe place to hole up and activate our rescue beacons.”

“I thought that was only for emergencies!” “Getting stranded in the dark is an emergency,” said Ash dully. And it’s my fault. Hazel looked mortified. “I’ll never live it down if I come back from my first dive in a rescue quad! Besides, the beacons probably won’t even work from here. The Vator’s comm range only goes like two hundred miles inland. That’s another stupid rhyme they make us learn—‘stay in range or you’re in danger.’” She sang the mnemonic in a mocking tone, then snorted. “Like the whole Goddard-damned planet isn’t dangerous.” “Then what do you suggest, with all your great dive experience?” Thorn asked, sarcastic. If Hazel heard him, she didn’t reply—she was already chest-deep in the quad’s rusty bowels. Muffled swearing rang behind the hull. Blue sparks flared, then the vehicle’s running lights glowed awake. Ash scrambled back as the four rotors hummed to life. “What did you do?” “Byed the main power distributor and routed the cells directly to the engine,” said Hazel. Burnt pinpoints speckled the shoulders of her uniform. “The secondary systems are still out, but it’ll get us home.” “Violet teach you how to fix stuff like that?” asked Thorn. “She says I could wire a power cell before I could walk.” “Remind me to thank her.” “Thank me first. Or am I still not old enough to play with you?” Hazel asked dryly, planting fists on her hips. Ash had a brief vision of her as a small child, in an identical pose, trailing him and Thorn into one of the Shack’s restricted areas. He bit back a smile. Thorn patted Hazel’s shoulder. “We’re not playing anymore, weed.” All three of them piled into the aircraft. Thorn activated the homing device and the quad rose vertically over the city, now a labyrinth of shadows. Fatigue settled over Ash like darkness over the landscape. The last of his sensory augmentation faded away.

I didn’t even get through the whole dive before I lost it. What if it stops working entirely? How will I ever find anything? Feel anything? He shut his eyes against the thoughts, and when he woke, the Vator’s cable shone across the inky sea, a mechanical umbilicus glittering with electromagnetic energy. The quad landed among a dozen others on the massive anchor platform. “Ugh, I hate being the last one back,” said Thorn, glancing around at the other vehicles. “There’s going to be a line for the de-con pods.” As he predicted, at least ten kids were still queued outside the climbing cabin. Weeds stood out green and spindly, trying to copy the swagger of veteran divers whose mask straps were covered in etchings. Ash took his sample containers to the dropbox built into one of the cabin’s exterior s, held his palm over the scanner, and received the affirmative beep when it ed his identity tag. “You went off the map again, Ash,” drawled the video screen overhead. Ash glanced up at the man’s grainy image. “It’s your fault, Rowan. You and your teammates picked the coast clean twenty-five years ago, so now we have to go farther out to find anything new.” The dive coordinator frowned at him. “If I can’t see you on the grid, I can’t send a quad to airlift your asses out of trouble. I shouldn’t have to remind you.” Ash didn’t reply, just fed his specimens one by one into the chute. “I hope it was worth the risk,” said Rowan. “Think you broke Lily’s record today?” “It doesn’t matter, so long as we get out of that crater.” “At the rate you’re going, we’ll be there in a decade.” Rowan chuckled. “Go decontaminate. I’ll let you know when the results come in.” With his last vial logged, Ash ed Hazel and Thorn, who held nearby divers captive with a reenactment of their adventure at the lake, shamelessly

embellishing each other’s narratives. Ash didn’t care to relive it. He let his eyes wander into the next queue. A tall boy with a mask almost completely black with x marks stepped into the pod, leaving a single girl in line. Ash recognized her strap’s pattern of flowing branches and his heart jittered in his ribs. “Ash, back me up here—that monster had to be at least the size of a quad. Ash?” “What?” He turned to his impatient brother. Thorn glanced over Ash’s head for the source of distraction and a mischievous grin spread under his mask. “I think that line is shorter,” he said, artificially loud. “You should move over there.” “Stop,” Ash muttered. Thorn dropped his voice. “You’ll never get anywhere if you avoid her, Ash.” “I know, but there are rules.” “Not against talking.” “I’m no good at talking.” “Then go practice.” Thorn shoved him in the back and he tripped into the next line. He was too close to her now. A breeze ruffled the fringe of obsidian hair along her collar. Ash opened his mouth, then shut it again. He glanced back at Thorn and shook his head. Rolling his eyes, Thorn called out: “Hey, Willow! How many specimens did you get today?” “Enough to snag that record, I hope.” Her voice sent anxious static down Ash’s back. “I hear you’re getting close. Ash is worried you’re going to beat him. Right, Ash?” Willow turned and noticed Ash. “Is that why he’s sneaking up behind me?

Sabotage?” she asked, laughing. “I’m not worried,” said Ash. “You’re that confident you’ll beat me?” “No, I just don’t care. About the record, I mean. You deserve it as much as anyone. Well, not anyone. I think you’re better than most divers….” He glanced at Thorn for help. His twin, looking pointedly away, quivered with silent mirth. I’m going to kill you, Thorn. “Anyway, what did you find?” he asked Willow, scrambling to recover the conversation. “Mostly reruns, but they might be variants. And something new I think is a grain.” Willow touched her mask strap. “I think I’ll be adding another flower to my tree.” Ash seized the opportunity to lean close to her, examining the motif. “You’re wearing a whole bouquet already. How many specimens have you logged?” “Only a few less than you.” “You’ll probably me on the scoreboard, then. I’ve only got a few months left.” “And you’re the most successful terranaut on the active roster. You could be grounded today and still get your pick of any apprenticeship in the Colony,” Willow told him. “I bet you’ll get to work with Juniper on GAEA. I heard she dumped another protégé, so she’s probably looking for a replacement.” Ash shook his head. “Being a good diver doesn’t qualify me to study with the top geneticist.” “Breaking the record might. But I’m not out of the game yet.” She poked him with a playful elbow. “Do me a favor and have a few bad days, okay?” She stepped into the now-open pod and Ash quickly averted his eyes. The clear plastic walls made injuries or contraband impossible to hide, but they also left the occupant no modesty. Not that it mattered: even with their

uniforms removed, the divers all looked alike. With their cropped dark hair, bronze skin, and eyes in varying shades of brown, they resembled a gaggle of cousins. Genetically, we probably are. Ash tried not to think about how closely he and Willow were probably related. Instead he turned to Thorn, the last one still waiting. His brother grinned at him. “Did you brag about closing in on that record?” “She might actually beat me to it.” “Not likely. She’s almost sixteen. An old lady.” “Takes one to know one, old man. You and I won’t be here much longer than she will.” Thorn shrugged, staring out across the oily grey sea. “I’m okay with that. Sucking toxic air through a filter, shooting giant rats, getting probed up the ass for Spores after every trip…I’ve had enough.” For a moment his face looked weary in the platform’s harsh lights. Then he glanced at Hazel in the pod ahead of him and smiled. “As long as I can to train our weed here before I hang up my mask. What do you think of her?” Ash glanced at Hazel, who had finished the second phase in the de-con cycle and was dancing under the dryer jets. “She needs to take things seriously.” “You’re serious enough for all three of us.” Thorn rapped his knuckles on Ash’s chestplate. “I thought I’d pick someone who could make you laugh.” “You picked her?” “I know, it’s not regulation. But when I gave those tactical demos to the trainees, Rowan invited me to shortlist a few kids for our team when the assignments came out.” Thorn held up his hands when Ash began to argue. “I know you don’t like bending regs, but that’s how it works. You’re the best terranaut in a generation, Ash. He wants you to mentor someone and he knew you wouldn’t pick, so letting your captain choose was the next best thing.”

“And you chose Hazel? After all the years you teased her and complained when she tried to our games?” “She was the sharpest kid in the group by a light year.” Thorn grinned. “Plus she’s already had practice following us into trouble.” A tube spat out of the shower wall toward Hazel’s face and she breathed obediently into the mouthpiece. The analyzer lights spun, then pulsed green. “No respiratory contaminants detected,” said the recorded voice of the pod. Hazel turned to stick out her tongue at Thorn, defiant in her survival, and he gave her a double thumbs-up. The pod’s back unlocked and she disappeared up the corridor to the Vator’s main cabin. The unit resealed itself and the front door slid open again. Thorn paused with one boot inside. “Ash, you need to stop.” “Stop what, diving?” “You know what I’m talking about. I saw you on the roof, and on the quad coming back. You were wasted.” “We were all drained after that dive,” said Ash in a careful monotone. “Not like that.” Thorn’s normally sanguine face turned hard. “You hide it better than a lot of the others, but not from me. Do you want to end up like Clover or Daff or—” “I won’t,” Ash cut him off. “We need every advantage we can get out here. If Edge helps me spot even one more plant or animal trace, it’s worth it.” “Worth your life?” “Maybe.” “What about her life?” Thorn jerked a thumb in the direction Hazel had gone. “Or mine? We almost died today, all of us, going way out of range for a shot at maybe finding a new species. For what? So you can break Lily’s record?”

A hot vein of anger surged through Ash’s exhaustion. “No. So we can get off that stupid dead rock.” He lifted a finger skyward, indicating the white wafer of moon. “We’re the ones who have to do it, Thorn. Our generation.” “That’s what our parents said.” “You want to give up?” Ash snapped. “We’ve got the rest of our lives to sit around the Shack. This is our one chance to do something for the future, so maybe our kids don’t have to do this.” “You won’t live long enough to get assigned any, the way you’re going.” Thorn sighed, fogging his mask. “Don’t put it all on yourself to save the human race, okay? We’re in it together. What’s left of us.” He stepped into the shower, leaving Ash alone on the platform. We pushed ourselves today. So what? Does he think it’ll be easy or safe to terraform an entire barren planet? The pod ahead of him chimed its readiness. Ash got in and began the decontamination procedure. He discarded his filter canister and plugged his air hose into the wall socket, savoring the cool air. Jets of sterilization liquid erupted from the pod’s sides. Dirt and contaminants swirled down the drain. Ash removed his armor and boots, peeled off the drenched suit, and stuffed all the pieces down the wash chute. A second round of spray stung every pore of his body. Stripped of all else, Ash finally unclipped his mask. His first unfiltered breath in nearly twenty hours tasted like plastic, like metal, like home. Through the divider, he saw Thorn in the next chamber, finishing the sequence. The mouthpiece extended. Thorn exhaled. Lights whirled for a long moment. When they stopped, they formed a circle of red. “Respiratory contaminants detected,” announced the pod. Ash saw Thorn’s mouth open in a yell he couldn’t hear. He supplied the sound from his own lungs. “No!” he shouted, pounding on the barrier. Thorn tried breathing into the mouthpiece again, then hammered the device with his fist. Silent expletives contorted his lips. The pitiless robotic voice drowned his pleas. “Respiratory contaminants

detected. Initiating infection control.” Vents in the side of the pod slid open, releasing shimmers of gas. Helpless terror burned in Thorn’s eyes. He twisted to look at Ash. For a moment their faces were anguished reflections on either side of the transparent wall. Then the mirror shattered. Thorn’s eyes slid back into his head and he crumpled to the bottom of the pod. “Thorn!” Ash’s bare feet squealed on the wet floor as he threw a shoulder against the barrier, over and over until his flesh seethed at the impact. He sank to his knees. His brother lay motionless. Relaxed, his face looked like a child’s. He is a child. “I hate this planet,” Ash choked as scalding rain fell around him. “I hate Earth.”

3

Alone

“Are you gonna get dressed or what?” Hazel demanded. Her words bounced off Ash’s ears, distant and meaningless. Glancing down, he saw the ready room’s hard floor between his toes. He didn’t leaving the de-con pod. Damphaired kids milled around the lockers, wriggling into their jumpsuits and swapping boasts. A few caught sight of Ash and snickered. “Here.” Hazel grabbed Ash’s hand and pressed it against his locker. Ping, went the chip reader. The door popped open. His patched jumpsuit hung where he’d left it before dawn, a lifetime ago. “Where’s Thorn?” asked Hazel, tossing the garment at Ash’s chest. His limbs maneuvered themselves into the sleeves, moving from ingrained habit just as they’d carried him up the corridor. The fabric stung his raw flesh. Far away, he heard Hazel repeat her question. “In the pod,” he managed to reply. “Well, he needs to hurry up and get in here.” She jerked her chin at a cluster of weeds behind her. “These crater-brains think I’m lying about shooting a whole nest of rats, but they’ll believe him.” “No, he….” Ash’s throat clamped around the words. “Ash, what’s wrong?” He stopped, swallowed, tried again. Words scraped like gravel in his mouth. “He got red-ringed.” All conversation around him died. Every pair of eyes in the cavernous room turned to Ash. “Damn,” someone breathed into the silence. Hazel’s mouth fell open. “But how…?”

“I don’t know. Maybe his mask strap was worn and couldn’t maintain the seal. Maybe his filter went bad—the risk of that gets higher as we get older and our lungs breathe a higher volume.” Ash heard his own voice droning a veteran’s explanation while a scream rang in his head. “It could have been anything.” “Like sharing his filter with me?” Hazel’s eyes, savage and shining, dared him to confirm it. When Ash didn’t respond, her expression turned stony and she marched out of the ready room without another word. The address system crackled awake. “Listen up, brats.” Rowan’s voice cast a web of silent attention over the assembled divers. “There was a contamination incident at the conclusion of today’s expedition. You know what that means. Back to GEO for complete evaluation of personnel and equipment.” A few of the kids scheduled for the next day’s dive groaned. “There goes my shot at ing you on the scoreboard,” Ash heard one girl grumble to her companion. “Standby for ascent,” said Rowan. A few minutes later the cabin trembled as the rollers engaged. Several weeds clutched at the benches, but Ash barely swayed. The space elevator’s mechanics were as innate to him as those of his own body. He headed for the staircase. A light hand brushed his arm. “Ash, I’m so sorry,” said Willow, her deep brown eyes bright with empathy. Even her touch left Ash void of feeling. He nodded acknowledgement and trudged to the Vator’s upper level. Vestiges of luxury recalled the dormitory’s past as suites for wealthy space tourists. Now three dozen terranauts slept amid the old chrome fixtures and scraps of opalescent ing, but at the moment the room was mercifully empty. Ash went to his bunk and stopped with one foot on the ladder. Thorn’s belongings lay scattered on the bottom bed: a crumpled jumpsuit, empty ration packets, loose pieces from the tile game they all played on the ponderous trips through the atmosphere. That’s all that’s left of him. The litter of a life.

Tears scorched Ash’s eyes. He climbed into his own bunk and buried his face in the pillow, suffocating his sobs. The cluster of small, hard objects in the corner of the pillowcase pressed against his cheek. Those are only for dives, the rational part of Ash’s brain reminded him. I don’t care, he told it savagely. I never want to dive again. He turned his back to the surveillance camera embedded in the ceiling and pulled the blanket over his head. Plunging his hand into the pillowcase, he fished out one of the white tablets and swallowed it. He counted off the minutes in nervous heartbeats. Finally the claws in his chest relaxed and his ragged breathing smoothed. The sleeping bag blossomed into a garden of fibers, each one distinct to his sharpening eyes. Minute vibrations in the bulkhead hummed a lullaby. If he listened closely, he could still hear Thorn’s soft snoring from the bottom bunk.

⁂

The Mare Ingenii skylight yawned in the dark. Relying on night vision and her own sense of topography, she guided the rover around the pit’s gaping circumference until its tires found the ramp that spiraled beneath the moon’s crust. Headlights swept a massive, oblong shape in the skylight’s center, pointed up toward the stars. “Got some new parts for you, Ship,” she told the shadowy obelisk. “Maybe it’ll be enough to finally get you finished.” Leaving all the stolen gear except the telemetry kit, she ed through the airlock. The stiff door itted her grudgingly. “Not you too,” she muttered. A single dim lit the cluttered equipment room, turning its three occupants to flickering shades.

Maybe they’ll talk to me this time. “Hi, Chiba, Dakar,” she addressed the two near her own age. Directing words at other people, rather than inanimate objects, gave her a twinge of pleasure. “Going out to work on the Ship?” Chiba stuffed her thick red mane under a helmet and Dakar focused intense interest on some decrepit welding tools. Neither responded. Keep trying. She turned to the third, a middle-aged man applying a foil patch to a tear in his spacesuit. “I got some prime scrap from the Colony, Santiago. Want to take a look? I think the heliostat s will work for the thermal control system you designed.” His jaw tightened beneath his beard, but he kept his eyes fixed on his task. “See you out there, Dakar,” said Chiba in an unnaturally loud voice, and hurried into the airlock. “New parts are in the back of my rover,” she called after Chiba. She didn’t expect a reply. None came. She turned to Dakar instead. “We need to devise a way to get down inside the crater,” she said, ing him beside the equipment locker and removing her bulky boots. “They’ve got heavy ice mining machinery down there—imagine the parts we could strip from those!” Dakar’s eyes, white moons against the dark sky of his skin, flickered toward her. She pounced on the momentary acknowledgement. “Is Madurai still in seclusion? How does she meditate like that without getting hungry? Mother’s mantle, if I did nothing but sit and think for days, I’d starve!” Dakar shrugged into his air tank and strode out toward the ship. She flung her suit onto the hook in disgust.

Why did I even bother coming back? “Madurai came out this morning, but went right back to her chamber.” Santiago spoke so softly that she almost mistook it for the echo of air pumps in a distant tunnel. “She didn’t speak to anyone, so I doubt she’ll want to talk to you.” His glance might have held pity or disgust. Before she could reply, he lowered the helmet over his face and disappeared after Chiba and Dakar. “I don’t want her to talk,” she called after him. “I want her to listen.” A chain of lamps in the lava tubes poured out sterile white light, but she could have navigated them blind. Fifteen years underground, her entire lifetime, had branded the length of every age and the angle of every turn into her muscle memory. She knew the sparks flying in the workshops, the scent of water from the algae tanks, the rumble of machine caves where air pumps and heat diffs rattled their endless complaints. She encountered a few people and greeted each one by name: “Hello, Sydney. Florence. Dallas.” All of them scurried on, not looking at her. Madurai’s chamber lay at the far end of the warren, removed from the cacophony of survival. The foil curtain in the doorway broke her reflection into a thousand small pieces. Fragments of a girl—a tangle of pale hair, stubborn blue glints for eyes—shimmered in front of her. The signal kit burned in her hands. She can’t ignore it any longer. Raising her chin, she yanked back the curtain and entered. Cool mineral smells rolled off the walls. The shadows coalesced into the figure of a woman seated on the floor behind a low table cluttered with items: small stones, a shell, an ancient wooden box. “I have no wisdom to share yet.” Madurai’s vaporous words dissolved on the rock around her. “Our Mother has been silent of late.” “No, she hasn’t.”

Madurai’s head snapped toward the door. Loathing writhed in the lines on her face. “How dare you contaminate this space,” she growled, the ethereal tone dissolving. “How dare you desecrate the relics with your presence!” “I’ve got something better than those fossils.” She slapped the comm kit down amongst the mementos. “What’s this?” “The signal.” “What signal?” “You know.” Madurai narrowed her eyes at the equipment. “Telemetry is forbidden, especially to you. Where did you get this?” “Found it while I was harvesting the Colony.” “I see we can’t even trust you with simple collection assignments. Perhaps I misjudged, letting you live.” “Just look at the waveform!” She powered up the display unit, but Madurai turned away. “It’s a phantom, the ghost of a dead species.” “It’s the same signal Geneva recorded five years ago.” “Don’t speak that name,” Madurai hissed. “I’ll speak my own mother’s name whenever I want!” “We have only one Mother, ungrateful child, and you pollute her name with your tongue.” “And you dishonor her with your deaf ears.” Hands shaking with anger, she jabbed at the screen. “If she talks to us like you claim, this is it.” Madurai sniffed. “The Mother does not speak through crude human

instruments.” “Then maybe someone else is trying to talk to us.” “Don’t be absurd. We Exiles are the last of her children.” “Children who have lived like frightened worms for almost a hundred years! This could change that.” “The only change is through penance. Once our Mother forgives us, we will complete the Ship and she will welcome us again,” Madurai intoned, punctuating the speech with a nasty smile. “At least, those of us still deemed pure.” “How can you ignore this?” Rage frayed her voice and she resented the audible weakness. “It could be our best chance at going home.” Madurai began rearranging the artifacts, a scraggly curtain of grey hair hiding her face. Her foot ached to kick the stupid little table aside and fill the room with the chime of shattering relics. “Please, Grandmother….” “Don’t ever call me that!” Madurai’s spidery fingers clenched around the shell, the scar along her hand blazing white in the dimness. “You are no gene of mine, traitor child!” The words chased her back through the curtain and down the age. She ran through the maze, breathing stale oxygen in ragged gasps. A wall reared in front of her—the dead end of an unfinished tunnel—and she slapped a palm against it to stop her momentum. “I’m not a traitor,” she whispered to the moon’s heart. She leaned her cheek on the wall, letting the heat of her face dissipate into the basalt. The telemetry kit, still clutched against her chest, felt hard and cool as logic. “But if you won’t listen to me, Madurai, I’ll find someone who will.”

4

Record

“Do I need to throw you out of that bunk?” Gruff empathy made the threat almost consoling. Ash peeled the blankets back and saw Rowan floating in zero-g through the deserted dormitory. “We docked at GEO an hour ago. Everyone else has already unloaded.” “I know. I felt it,” Ash muttered. “I wanted some time alone.” “A week-long ascent hiding under the pillow doesn’t count?” “A lot of people crash after dives. It’s normal. I needed recovery time, that’s all.” Rowan pushed off the ceiling and turned a slow flip beside Ash’s bed. “I don’t know if I told you this, but my best friend got red-ringed not long before I was grounded. Brilliant Gatherer. Brilliant person, really. I never knew anyone like her.” He gripped the edge of the bunk to halt his motion, knuckles going pale. “When we lost her, it felt like someone had ripped out a few of my ribs. I beat myself up for months, wondering what went wrong and how I could’ve prevented it. All that analyzing didn’t make it hurt less. It just made me crazy. And it sure as hell didn’t bring her back.” “Are you trying to make me feel better?” asked Ash. “No. Only time will do that. I’ve trained you up from a sniveling weed into the best Gatherer in the Colony, but there’s one lesson only Earth can teach you—that losing teammates is unavoidable. Talk to any adult on the Shack. You won’t find a single one who didn’t watch a friend die down there. It’s the sacrifice we make to the planet.” Rowan glanced out the tiny porthole at the distant blue orb. “After what we did to her, maybe we deserve it.” “Thorn didn’t deserve to be murdered in a de-con pod like a germ in a test tube!” Ash sat up, glaring.

Rowan stared calmly back. “What other choice is there? Abandon him to die in the wilderness? That would be inhumane. You’ve seen the old footage —you know what Spores do to their hosts.” Ash shuddered. “We could have brought him back.” “So he can die on the station and risk infecting hundreds of others?” Rowan shook his head. “That’s the crappy part of being an endangered species, Ash. We have to think about the survival of the whole.” “Survival on a boring, crowded lunar colony,” said Ash bitterly. “What’s the point?” “Sometimes I wonder.” A nostalgic smile touched Rowan’s lips, an old man’s expression misplaced on a face that had barely seen forty years. “Don’t tell anyone, but I miss diving. I still dream about Earth almost every night. Colors. Wild things growing. Horizons.” His gaze lost focus, seeing past Ash into a world of memory. “Spores. Rats. Toxic ultraviolet levels,” said Ash, rattling off his own less complimentary list of the planet’s features. “You’ll miss them all a few months after you’re grounded.” “No, I won’t. I’ll have new things to study on Mars.” “Well, you won’t get there by staying in bed. Come on. Valerian’s waiting to do your medical eval, and I need to prepare an after-action report for Everest. And don’t you want to check the scoreboard?” “I thought GAEA was the Genetic Archive of Earth Ancestry, not the Greedy Accumulation of Empty Awards,” grumbled Ash, but he slid out of the bunk and followed Rowan through the empty Vator onto the orbit station. The scoreboard hung on a wall immediately outside the docking bridge. Terranauts crammed the corridor in front of it. Only weeds obsess over the board! What’s going on?

The quadrant’s top two screens showed individual rankings for Hunters and Gatherers. Ash noticed with a stab of resentment that Thorn’s name had already disappeared. A third readout gave the combined score for each team. But it was the fourth list captivating the crowd: the all-time leaderboard of every diver since the Colony began sending teams to Earth decades ago. A scrawny form detached from the crowd and seized Ash’s arm. “Ash, you did it!” Hazel squealed. “Look!” Carving a path through the others with her sharp elbows, she dragged him up to the board and Ash stared into the face of the girl who had haunted his dreams for three years. He’d memorized every pixel of Lily’s photograph: the slash of dark hair over her eye, the arch of her brow, the scab bisecting her lower lip. With her confident smirk, it was almost like she knew she was sitting at the top of the roster, queen of all divers for more than twenty years. Now she sat deposed in second place. Ash read his own name over and over without believing it. Hands patted his shoulder, fists punched his arm in approval. He barely felt them. “Surprise,” said Rowan behind him. Ash turned to him. “You knew.” “We finished running your sequenced samples against the database a few hours before the Vator docked. You pulled ahead of Lily by one. A little plant with a purple flower, in the Lamiaceae family. Initial analysis shows some interesting chemical properties, too.” A flower I had to go off the map to find, and it cost Thorn his life. I traded my brother for a stupid record. “Congratulations,” said Willow. She smiled, although her eyes remained a little cool. “You’ll get your pick of any job in the Shack now. You deserve it.” “Thanks, but I’m only one up. Someone could still overtake me.” Willow shook her head. “That record stood for almost a quarter-century. Breaking it is a big deal, Ash.”

“It sure is,” said Rowan. “Everest already announced it to the colony. You’ve been authorized leave for a recognition ceremony.” Ash snorted. “I’m not going back to the Shack right now. I’ve got more dives to do. Just because I broke Lily’s record doesn’t mean I get to stop.” “Did I say invitation? I meant official summons.” Rowan jerked his chin down the corridor. “Now do your medical clearance and let’s get going before we perigee—that rotten shuttle ride is long enough without adding a few thousand extra kilometers.”

5

Shack

She parked the rover behind a ridge and walked the last desolate kilometers to Shackleton Crater. Day blazed across Luna’s south pole, making the bleak terrain new and curious; she knew its formations only as green outlines in her infrared goggles. I should come during the day more often. Not that there’s much to see—the same old rocks and dust—but at least it looks a little more interesting. She climbed up to the crater rim. Every step drew a long, silty scuff, but for once she didn’t bother concealing her tracks. At the top she dangled her foot over Shackleton’s frigid black maw. “Dark doesn’t scare me!” she called down, wishing she could hear her voice echo and dissolve off the deep walls. With a triumphant sigh, she looked out over the grey vista. Sunlight betrayed the age of the Colony habitats, highlighting patches in the lunarcrete domes and glistening wads of repair foil on the exterior pipes. She gazed past it to Malapert Mountain, the convex place in the horizon. A glimmer near its peak flickered lower toward the surface. “The elevator!” she breathed. “Maybe I’ll finally see it up close.” The brief thrill evaporated and left a residue of dread behind. Twisting, she eyed the trail she’d left in the regolith. It stretched across the plain and out of sight, back toward Mare Ingenii, back home. “Home.” The word tasted bitter. She turned back to the habitats. Acres of solar s winked up at her. Taking a deep breath, she started around the rim toward the Colony.

⁂

“Doesn’t this thing go any faster?” Rowan muttered, just loud enough for Ash to hear. He paced the lunar elevator cabin, restless hands moving from his pockets to his sides and back again. The cabin, significantly smaller than its Earth counterpart, magnified the voices of grounded divers on their final trip home. A pair of boys bragged about their dive exploits in loud, hollow voices, while the girl continued the stifled sobbing she’d indulged throughout the two-day shuttle ride from GEO. Pressing his forehead to the cool window, Ash blocked out his companions and watched the pale, pocked surface blossom into detail. Solar s winked like fallen stars around the rim of Shackleton Crater. The Colony itself, a cluster of domes ed by tubelike corridors, formed raised scars on the moon’s skin. Compared to the glittering seas and vibrant sunrises of Earth, the world below looked grey and sterile. But it’s home. Groaning and jerking, the old lift docked at the peak of Malapert Mountain. The engers decanted themselves from one bubble into another, filing through the base station and into a pressurized transport. Ash stared out at vast grey fields, klick after dull klick. Herds of machines grazed on the soil, digesting rocks into gas and minerals. “I’m going to take these three for re-integration processing.” Rowan mouthed the last two words to Ash when they pulled into the Shack’s airlock. “You going to see your mother?” “Yeah.” “Good. I don’t want you curling up in the nearest air vent and ignoring the rest of humanity.” I couldn’t if I tried. With more than four hundred individuals crammed into a habitat that would barely cover a city block on Earth, Ash couldn’t avoid conversation as he crossed the Colony. “Congratulations, Ash!” “I dove with Lily, you know—never thought I’d see her record fall.”

“We’ll head for Mars in no time, if you keep it up!” The greetings only added to his sense of oppression: the chambers seemed dimmer, the tunnels narrower than he ed. The scent of wet lunarcrete smothered him as a repair bot inched past, patching cracks with the ubiquitous regolith printing spray. Better get used to it. A few more months and this will be the only landscape you know. No more masks or rats or Spores…or rain or sunsets or running a mile with nothing in front of you but the sky… His senses writhed, agonized in the sterile grey surroundings. The tiny packet of pills in his interior pocket burned through his jumpsuit. No. I have to save those for the ceremony, or I’ll never handle all those people staring at me. Ash battled claustrophobia all the way to the Educational Centre, where screens hid the grey walls beneath bright animated posters about astronomy, genetics, and habitat safety. He paused to watch a cartoon rocket hop across three globes—blue, white, and red. On the third sphere, a sunflower sprang up where the ship landed. EARTH YESTERDAY, LUNA TODAY, MARS TOMORROW! the slogan promised in cheerful bouncing capitals. The sunflower dissolved and Ash found himself staring at his own life-sized image, posed in full dive gear with a steely expression. Text scrolled over his head: WE DIVE, WE THRIVE! ARE YOU READY TO BE A TERRANAUT? Jamming hands in his pockets so he wouldn’t smash the screen with his fist, Ash stalked away and found the right classroom. Half a dozen small children sat in front of a standard history video. He slipped into the darkened room and stood behind a large shelf where he could watch unnoticed. Footage of old Earth still looked vaguely familiar—concrete and steel, roads everywhere like the web of an immense tarry spider—but people thronged everywhere. Billions of them, crammed into squalid cities as their homes dried up around them or sank beneath the waves. And now we’re all that’s left. The teacher, clad in the blue tunic of a civic division employee, stepped in front of the screen.

“Do you know what happened to the giant Earth colony?” asked Fern, tapping the remote in her hand. “Spores!” chorused the children. “I think it’s time we learned the proper word for Spores.” Fern typed into her remote and a Linnean name popped up on the board. “Aspergillus is a type of fungus that can infect human lungs and produce a toxin that makes its host sick. It grows in soil or crops. When Earth got too hot and dirty for most crops to grow, scientists created an improved kind of grain to feed all the hungry people, but Aspergillus infected it and picked up some of the altered genes. The mold mutated— our lesson about how ultraviolet light can trigger mutation?—and became deadly. By the time anyone realized what had happened, they’d traded the infected crops all over the world.” A circle of red lights flared in Ash’s vision and he swallowed hard. One small hand crept up. “Yes, Poppy?” asked Fern. “Did it kill everyone?” “Almost. But several countries had cooperated to build the space elevator.” Fern restarted the video, letting it roll through a montage of lunar mining and images of the Vator a century ago, when it was the sparkling pinnacle of modern technology. “When the Spores became pandemic, the scientists working on the Vator sent their children away from Earth, where they would be safe. Everest and the other grown-ups on the Luna mining colony took care of them. Out of ten billion people, those two hundred children survived. They’re your ancestors.” “Did they miss Earth?” asked Poppy. “I’m sure they did, but Everest showed them that if they worked hard, they could continue the Mars colonization project their parents had started and make a wonderful new homeworld for all the humans to come.” “Even Darksiders?” piped up a boy. “My dad told me they used to be humans but now their genes are all bad and they sneak up to the colony at

night and steal our oxygen.” “That’s just a scary story, Heath. The Darksiders were a group of misguided colonists who wanted to return to Earth instead of working toward Mars. They left the Colony, but couldn’t survive on their own.” Fern tapped her fingers in disapproval. “They also stole most of our genetic archive—the plants and animals we needed to grow food, make medicine, and terraform. That’s why we started sending divers to Earth.” “How many species do we need?” Heath asked. “As many as I can get,” said Ash softly. Every head snapped to the back of the room. A few small mouths fell open. “Ash!” Mingled relief and pain lined Fern’s face. She crossed the classroom and hugged him. Ash realized he was as tall as his mother now; he’d only reached her nose the last time they’d seen one another. The evidence of his own growth —the inexorable march toward grounding—twisted his stomach in a knot. “Thank Goddard you’re okay,” Fern murmured into his collar. Suppressed tears rasped in the back of her throat. “When I heard about Thorn, I thought….” “I’m sorry, Mom,” Ash murmured. “Oh, Ash, it wasn’t your fault. It happens to so many families, and very few of them are lucky enough to have two children.” Fern held him at arm’s length, inspecting him. “Why they’re still sending kids down there when….” A grinding sound overhead interrupted her remark, and then Ash heard the loudest sound in the Shack: silence. The ambient hum of the oxygen system had stopped. “Not again,” Fern groaned. The address system clicked on, and the automated notification crooned: “Alert. There is a temporary suspension of airflow to Sector Five-B….” The children cheered.

Fern sighed. “Evacuation protocol, class. We’ll visit the greenhouses instead. Would you like to come, Ash? I’m sure the kids would love to hear about the species you discovered.” After a few moments of chaotic re-arrangement, the group marched out of the classroom. Children jostled for position near Ash, making him the nucleus of a squirming cell. “Did you find a thousand hundred species?” asked Heath. “I don’t think there are that many left on Earth,” said Ash. “No, but there must be more than I thought. I can’t believe you broke Lily’s record,” said Fern. “It makes me feel old! She was a weed on my team for a few dives before I got grounded.” “You never told me that,” said Ash. “What was she like?” Fern considered. “Tenacious,” she said finally. “One of the sharpest trainees I ever saw. But she put her specimens before her team. Our first trip out with her, she almost got us killed in a flooded city. None of us liked her much after that. She was a fantastic Gatherer, but not the best teammate.” “Maybe all Gatherers are like that,” Ash muttered. He felt a stronger connection than ever to the girl who’d died twenty-five years ago. The greenhouse domes, made of fused silica glass, glowed so brightly that Ash wished for his dive goggles. Pure polar sunlight flooded the rows of hydroponic crops. The heady fragrance of chlorophyll swirled in his lungs. I wonder if unfiltered Earth air smells like this. Scientists moved among the growth trays like long-stalked plants, green coats blending with the leaves. One of them uprooted herself and approached the class. “You’re not authorized to be here,” she said in a clipped tone. With a start, Ash recognized her voice from the biology lectures he studied between dives. She was smaller than she seemed on the video modules, but the sharp eyes and short, steel-colored hair were unmistakable.

“We’re having a science lesson, Juniper,” said Fern, her voice brittle with artificial cheer. “You have a classroom for that.” “Yes, and it’s a vacuum at present.” “Maybe that’s where all my engineers went. Someone needs to modify the water input on this unit.” Juniper scowled. “My hybrids are languishing while the wrench monkeys are off tinkering with the life system.” “It’s easier to regrow plants than children,” said Fern, hugging Ash to her side. “Not really. It’s all just cell division.” Juniper ignored Fern’s disgusted look and glanced at Ash. “Isn’t he a little old for your class?” “He’s my son,” said Fern, with a hint of ferocity. “Who happens to be the best terranaut in Colony history. He probably found half the species in this greenhouse.” “Mom,” Ash muttered, his face burning. “You’re the one who just broke Lily’s record,” said Juniper. Her gaze made Ash feel like something on a microscope slide. “What’s your name—Birch?” “Ash.” “You’ve contributed quite a bit to GAEA. Shame you won’t be diving much longer.” “I’m not sixteen yet. I’ve got time.” “By the program rules, perhaps. But Earth doesn’t abide by our petty regulations. She’ll take terranauts whenever it suits her.” “I’ve noticed,” Fern snapped. “It makes me wonder why you still ship our kids down there. We must have hundreds of species collected by now.” “Only a few have been successfully optimized for Martian survival,” said

Juniper, sounding so exactly like her recordings that Ash wondered if she was quoting herself. She turned back to Ash. “In a few months, when they ground you, come see me. You might turn out to be equally useful on the other side of GAEA.” Without a goodbye, she swept off through the domed jungle. “Did she just offer me an apprenticeship?” asked Ash, staring after her in awe. “Not one you’d want,” said Fern. “Her protégés never last more than a year. She claims they can’t handle the high-pressure work, but I think she’s just too unpleasant for anyone to tolerate.” Wait until I tell Willow that her prediction might actually come true. Having an excuse to talk to Willow cheered him slightly, but the good feeling didn’t last. As he led the class through the greenhouse, the children demanded adventure stories about how he’d found each specimen, and he found himself amending the tales to avoid mentioning Thorn. It’s wrong, leaving him out. Every dive I ever did, every species I ever found, he was there. But he couldn’t bear to see the cold grief on his mother’s face again. So he picked over the episodes until retelling them became more exhausting than the original experience. “Here’s a tree we found near Mount Hood—yes, trees are supposed to be way bigger.” Thorn saved me from a pack of coywolves that attacked while I was digging up the roots. “And this algae came from a flooded city called Boston….” In that amphitheater with the big green wall, where he shot a whole army of rats. Immersed in memories, Ash didn’t watch his feet. He trod on something soft and a yelp interrupted his narration. “Watch where you’re going, you crater-brained…Ash!” A woman popped out from under the table of seedlings. “Violet! Sorry, I didn’t see you,” said Ash.

“No big deal. My fingers are already shot from taking the irrigation system apart,” said Violet, rubbing her hand. “Juniper’s all over me about her new sprouts not getting enough water. They’re supposed to be drought-resistant splices for Mars! If they can’t stand a little dry soil, what good are they?” She rolled her eyes, and Ash couldn’t help smiling. “I’ll try to find something hardier,” he promised. “If your daughter keeps the predators off my back.” “Hazel’s on your team?” Violet leapt up and pulled Ash into a bear hug. “I feel so much better knowing that! You can look out for her, just like your dad did for me. Can you believe it, Fern?” she called over Ash’s shoulder. “Alder would have been thrilled,” said Fern, but Ash saw her face harden into a fragile mask. The address system clucked overhead and announced the restoration of life to Sector Five-B. “I guess that concludes the emergency field trip.” “Educational Centre lost power again?” asked Violet. “Second time this month.” Violet swore, making the children giggle. “They keep adding new structures when there’s barely enough power to run what we’ve got. My team has been working overtime for weeks, installing upgraded solar s, but they’ve already maxed out the PELs. Everest is talking about helium-3 prospecting again.” “After what happened to Dad?” said Ash, incredulous. “It’s just a rumor,” said Violet. She and Ash both glanced at Fern, who busied herself wiping dirt from Poppy’s hands. Violet picked up her toolkit. “I’ve gotta check the ice harvesters down in the crater, see if I can get some extra water for Juniper’s mutant garden. I’ll have a look at the s powering Sector Five while I’m out there. Maybe there’s dust on the cells or something. Wanna do a surface walk with me, Ash, like old times?” “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Fern said sharply, muddy fingers

forgotten. Ash snorted. “Why? It’s safer than Earth. There’s nothing out here to hunt me. What are you worried about?” Lines around Fern’s mouth looked ready to shatter. The irrigation system burbled into the silence, heedlessly merry. Say it, Mom. Say it and I’ll stay. “Time to go. Say thank-you to Ash,” Fern told her class curtly. The children chorused dutiful gratitude. “Ash, I’ll see you in the canteen for dinner?” “Yes,” he murmured to her back as she shepherded the class out of the greenhouse. “Seems like just yesterday that was Hazel,” said Violet, watching the kids depart. She beckoned to Ash and they wound through the rows. “Can’t believe my baby’s a dive brat. Is she any good with a Hummingbird?” “Nailed a massive rat and saved our butts.” “That’s my girl! I told Maggie we were raising a fighter, no doubt about it.” Violet palmed the door to a small equipment room with spacesuits hanging on the walls. “Does she get along with Thorn, too? The way they used to bicker when they were little….” Ash had to pry the words from his throat. “Thorn got red-ringed.” “What?! When?” “Last dive, right before I came back here.” Violet crushed him in another hug. “Why didn’t you tell me? I didn’t even say anything to Fern! Poor thing, first her husband and now her son… thank Goddard she still has you. I hate that they don’t announce these things. It’s like they want us to forget what all this costs.” Ash said nothing.

“I can’t imagine losing a brother. Alder was the closest thing I had, and I still miss him.” Violet released him, her eyes damp and bright. “I try to that he died trying to make a better future for all of us. It doesn’t help much, but it’s something.” They suited up in silence and went into the airlock. It opened on a monochrome landscape bright with a two-week day. Grey regolith carved shapes into the black sky. Ash breathed in and out, finding calm in the familiar cadence of filtered breaths. “I used to talk to him,” he confided over the comm channel. “Dad, I mean. When you took me for surface walks, I’d turn off the helmet mic so you couldn’t hear me and I’d just talk. Like he was still out there and could hear me.” Violet tapped her helmet against his and smiled. “I still do that, too.” She let him lead the way. Even in a full spacesuit, Ash felt light and quick on Luna compared to Earth. He bounded onto a rise and let himself soar. No Spores or predators, no walls or domes. Just sterile open ground. A grove of heliostats rose in front of him. Digging his boots into the soil, he jumped as high as he could, tapping the structure’s mirrored arms. “Watch the crater!” Violet’s voice crackled through the helmet’s comms. Ash glanced down. Shackleton Crater gaped under his feet. He backpedaled, touching down on the sunlit rim. Four kilometers below, he caught flickers of movement from the ice mining bots. “Juniper doesn’t seem to realize that we’ve been dredging ice out of that crater since before Sporespread,” said Violet, coming up beside him. “The accessible reserves are running out. Just like our power.” “We’ll be on Mars soon,” said Ash. “We have to be.” “Let’s hope.” Violet sighed. “I have to go down farther to get remote diagnostics on the equipment. Stay here until I get back, okay?” Once she disappeared down the side of the crater, Ash flicked off his mic.

“What do you think, Dad?” he murmured. “Are we ever going to get off this dead rock? You thought you’d see Mars one day. So did Thorn. You were so sure that you bet your lives on it. How do you believe in something that much? I can’t see any future beyond the next dive.” No answer came. The only movement was a soil harvester trundling home to dump its cargo of minerals and gases. Ash watched the machine crawl over the colorless ground and his eyes, trained for any small anomaly that might indicate life, spotted an unusual shape between the tanks. What is that, just a loose part? If I had my Edge I could tell. Willing his pupils to focus, he recognized a suited figure crouched on the coupling. He reactivated his comms. “Violet, is anyone else out here right now? Working on the harvesters, maybe?” “Nope,” came the tinny reply. “It’s just us, kiddo.” Adrenaline flooded Ash’s veins. He couldn’t tear his gaze from the fourlimbed shadow. It began prying at something on the machine. “Then call security. There’s someone out here, messing with our harvesters.” “What?” Violet squawked, but Ash was already charging down the slope. Long strides carried him across the open field. A few meters away, the interloper spotted him. It pushed off from one of the massive tires and sailed over Ash’s head. Sunlight flared on a reflective gold faceplate. That suit’s an antique! Is this some lost astronaut’s ghost? Ash seized the nearest boot the way he’d snatch a ing insect. The intruder twisted and shoved its free foot into Ash’s chest, driving the air from his lungs. He reeled back, dazed, and the intruder leapt at him. Grappling awkwardly in their bulky gear, they drifted to the ground. Rocks scraped against Ash’s helmet. His opponent knelt on his chest and clamped his air line. Panic blazed through him with each empty breath. The life warning pinged in his ear.

I can’t believe this is happening again. Mom, I’m so sorry. The gold mask pressed close to him, glittering and unreadable. A blue eye shone over the intruder’s shoulder: Earth waning, winking goodnight. Stars exploded in Ash’s vision. On the dimming horizon, shiny black carapaces scurried toward him. Formicidae on Luna? I’m suffocating—my brain is shutting down. They surged closer—not ants, but four officers in full surface armor. The intruder leapt up to flee. Ash gasped as air flooded back into his helmet. When he recovered, he saw a pair of officers pinning their prisoner to the ground. Violet came tumbling over the crater rim to kneel at Ash’s side. “I’m okay,” he said, when her torrent of concerned profanity subsided. He let her pull him to his feet. “Halley smokes, there really was someone out here!” She stared at the wriggling prisoner the officers were hauling back toward the dome. “What kind of outfit is he wearing? No one’s used gear like that in decades. I’m surprised anyone would risk coming outside in that leaky pair of pajamas.” “It functioned well enough,” said Ash, rubbing his chest. “Probably some stupid kid playing a prank. You’ve seen how some of those stir-crazy grounded divers behave.” Ash thought of the unhappy engers on his shuttle ride from GEO. Despite how upset they’d seemed, he couldn’t picture any of them sabotaging Colony property. He and Violet followed the posse back to the habitat. Seven people barely fit in the airlock. The intruder, now bound wrist and ankle, tugged against the restraints while an officer unscrewed the bulbous old helmet. After a few minutes struggling and swearing, he lifted it free. The face beneath sent a cold shock through Ash’s bones. She looked like some bizarre subterranean creature that had never seen the sun. Her skin was almost as pale as Luna itself, and looked even starker among the colonists’ uniformly bronze complexions. Tangles of white-blond hair framed a resentful blue stare. Ash took an automatic step away from her. No one in the Shack had eyes like that. Which left only one possibility of

the girl’s origin. A Darksider.

6

Darksider

“This is the last time I’m going to ask—who are you, and what do you want with our colony?” asked the uniformed security chief. Air prowled in her lungs, impatient to breathe words. The woman was looking at her, talking to her, inviting her to speak. No one’s voluntarily talked to me since Geneva disappeared! The realization made her throat burn. Don't let her tempt you. She wants you to talk for all the wrong reasons. She clamped her molars together and focused on pacing the tiny cell, measuring each movement. Step, step, turn. Step, step, turn. “Do you know what this Colony does to criminals?” the chief asked, shifting tactics. Her hair, coiled in a braid around her head, glittered like a noose of black wire. “We don’t waste nutrients and oxygen on individuals who compromise our survival. Our Council gives only one sentence for that.” What will you do, banish me to the lunar wastes? That’s no punishment, Chief, that’s my life. Step, step, turn. The door at the end of the cell block rattled open. "Chief Holly?" came a quiet hail. Holly marched down the cell block and conferred with the man in murmurs. Bare walls magnified the sounds. The girl’s ears, honed and hungry for human voices, snatched at the echoes. “…finished the perimeter sweep. There’s no one else out here. Looks like our little friend came alone," said the man. “Check again,” Holly ordered. “Extend the radius—there could be a raiding party holed up in one of the smaller craters. And question Ash. Maybe he saw something else."

“Already talked to him. That kid deserves another award. First he breaks Lily's record, then bags a live Darksider?" So my captor has a name. Ash. What kind of stupid name is that? “Terranauts are tough brats,” said Holly. “Taking down a skinny troglodyte is nothing compared to surviving Earth.” Earth! He’s been to Earth! "People are already asking about her," the man muttered. "Don't feed the rumors. Downgrade the alert, but step up extra surveillance until I can get something out of our guest." “Nothing yet? She’s probably too damn inbred to understand.” “I understand you perfectly,” the girl called, savoring the crisp syllables and the stunned silence that followed. The door opened and closed. Boots skimmed the floor. Holly appeared in front of the cell again, one dark eyebrow arched. “So you can talk.” “And listen.” She grinned. “Who’s Ash?” “Doesn’t matter,” said Holly through her teeth, clearly annoyed at being overheard. “Of course it does! He’s the reason I’m in here, but doesn’t even interrogate me himself. Some hero. You give awards to a person like that?” She punctuated the remark with a derisive snort of laughter, and Holly’s dark expression encouraged her. “I want to talk to him.” “You don’t get to make demands,” the security chief growled. “Then you don’t get answers to your questions.” She slung herself onto the cell’s bench and lay back, closing her eyes. “I’ll speak to Ash. No one else.”

⁂

Steam, but no scent, rose from the meal tray. Ash sniffed the glutinous mixture in his bowl. A whole handful of Edge wouldn’t let me taste any flavor in this. He claimed rations with a swipe of his palm and ed Fern at one of the long communal tables. “I guess food on the Vator is the same as ever,” she said, watching with amusement as he shoveled in the stew. “Literally. The stuff in those packets tastes like it’s thirty years old. On the last descent, Thorn took one and—” Ash stopped, spoon suspended. The bland mash congealed in his mouth. Canteen sounds poured into the silence, scraping chairs and clanking trays and intolerable laughter. “The kids loved having you in class today,” Fern said at last. Ash began sculpting a topographical map in his porridge. “They didn’t stop talking about it the rest of the day.” The color looked just like sun-bleached concrete. “Did you have a fun walk with Violet?” “Do we have to pretend Thorn never existed, too?” Ash asked, without raising his eyes from the plate. Fern set down her utensils. “Ash….” “Ash?” The new voice made them both jump. A young security officer stood behind Ash’s chair. “Chief Holly wants to see you.” “What’s he done?” asked Fern in a tight voice. “He’s only been here a few

hours! He can’t be in trouble already.” The officer looked uncomfortable. “The chief just has some questions about what happened on the surface earlier.” “Something happened?” Fern’s eyes drilled across the table. Ash carved a boulevard between two cereal skyscrapers. “Why didn’t you tell me?” “Because you’ve worked so hard to forget about Dad that I didn’t want to remind you,” said Ash. His mother’s mouth fell open, dangling like a broken machine part. Snatching the pitaya from his tray, Ash scraped back his chair and followed the officer out of the canteen. Muddled emotions turned his thoughts the same flat grey as the corridors. Hungrier for color than nutrients, he examined the fruit in his hand. Pink at the stem blushed into orange with a hint of green at the base: sunrise in a teardrop. Who first found this specimen? Are they still here on the Shack, or were they red-ringed and never even got to taste one? Maybe this is all we have of them. Maybe all we are is what we leave behind—broken cities, cactus fruit, and uncomfortable gaps in dinner conversation. The bitter pleasure of needling his mother faded into guilt. Sighing, he stuffed the pitaya into the pocket of his jumpsuit. A step ahead of him, the officer palmed a door. “The brig?” Uneasiness crept along Ash’s spine—he’d expected a lecture in the main security office, just like when he and Thorn misbehaved as children. “What are we doing here?” “Don’t worry, Ash, I’m not going to lock you up.” Holly’s voice came from inside. She hunched over one of the video screens studding the cramped antechamber. Computer glow shaded the hollows of her face, making her look tired and grim. Ash moved to stand beside her. “You asked to see me?” “I didn’t. She did.” Holly nodded at the display, where a pale wraith glided back and forth across one of the tiny cells. “The Darksider?” Blood retreated from Ash’s fingertips, leaving them cold.

“How does she even know who I am?” Holly grimaced. “Sound carries a little too well in lunarcrete.” “Why me?” “I don’t know, but she says she’ll only talk to you. And we need her to talk, Ash. A Darksider presence changes the Colony’s entire security strategy. We need to know how many there are, where they’re hiding, and what they’re capable of doing to us.” “Why would she give up anything?” “Because she’ll want to save her own skin. Darksiders are selfish, everyone knows that. It’s what caused the schism. So exploit that. See what she’s willing to trade for her life.” “I don’t think Everest would spare supplies on a long-term captive,” said Ash. “She doesn’t know that.” Ruthlessness glinted in Holly’s eyes. “Every minute she sits there silent, breathing our oxygen, leaves us vulnerable. Questioning her might benefit the colony more than any Earth dive you’ve ever done.” “I’m not good at talking.” “You don’t need to be. Just listen.” Ash watched the specter on the surveillance feed. How long have you been out there? Stealing from us, spying on us…or worse. His fingers twitched toward the pills in his pocket—If ever I needed an Edge, it’s now—but there wasn’t time. Holly stared at him, waiting. “All right,” he mumbled. The security chief exhaled. “Thank you. Everest will hear about your help. I’d submit you for a commendation, except we can’t tell people about the Darksider.”

“Keeping the Colony safe is reward enough for me.” Holly smiled. “If you don’t mind thankless work, you might make a good security officer when you’re done diving.” She unlocked the inner door to the cell block. “I’ll be watching the whole thing, so just yell if you need me.” “I won’t. I deal with wild animals all the time. At least this one’s in a cage.” He stepped onto the cell block and Holly shut the door behind him, cutting him off from his own bold words. The Shack’s brig had only six cells, three on either side of a narrow walkway. A hand fluttered out from the last cell and curled around the bars. Apprehension seeped through Ash’s muscles. He forced his feet to move. A few short steps brought him to the grate, and he stood face to face with the Darksider. She reminded him of the underfed coywolves in the old cities, all ribs and fangs and keen predator eyes. Those eyes. Ash shuddered. They’re unnatural. Human eyes are brown! He’d seen that color only once before, on a reckless dive to the half-sunken metropolises of North America’s east coast. In a second-floor gallery beneath a shattered green dome, he’d stumbled across a gem. Neither centuries nor scratched bulletproof glass had dimmed its captivating facets. He’d marveled that an object of such beauty could come from the planet’s calcified depths. But it had no value to Colony, so he’d left it behind and never saw that hue again. Until now. The Darksider girl’s eyes looked like that stone split in two—intense grey-blue, with a glittering hardness that forbade him to gaze into their core. Ash’s mouth turned to sand. He couldn’t speak. She saved him the trouble. “You’re shorter than I expected.” A chrome voice, high and cool. “What?” The absurdly mundane statement shook Ash from his paralysis. “I think I’m a bit taller than you.” She lifted her chin, peering at the top of Ash’s head. “Yes. Three centimeters at least. No wonder I beat you so easily before.” “You cheated,” Ash growled. “I can’t fight if I can’t breathe.”

“We can’t do anything if we can’t breathe. Except die.” The end of her sentence skittered off in a laugh that swooped through octaves like a raptor wheeling through thermoclines. “So why have you imprisoned me for breathing?” “I caught you stealing our equipment.” “Just your oxygen. My tank blew a valve. I had to refill from your harvester or I’d suffocate.” Ash ed Hazel’s panic when her filter died and felt a twinge of empathy for the girl. “What were you doing at the Shack in the first place?” She grinned. “Stealing your equipment.” “Is that how the Darksiders survived?” Ash glared at her. “You are a Darksider, aren’t you?” The girl stepped back and held open her arms. “What do you think? Am I everything you feared?” “I’m not afraid of you.” “No. You’re brave, aren’t you? Ash, the Colony hero,” she cooed derisively, then paused, cocking her head. “What kind of name is Ash, anyway? If you have to be named after residue from combustion, Cinder has a much nicer sound. Or Ember, I like that.” “Ash is an extinct species of tree. Everyone here is named after things that grew on Earth, so we’ll them.” “Oh.” She looked surprised. “We do that, too, only with places.” “What’s your name, then?” She hesitated, as if struggling to recall a forgotten word. “Skye.” “Why, you couldn’t spell ionosphere?” Ash asked dryly. “Skye with an ‘e’. It was an island in the Hebrides archipelago. Have you

been there, mighty Earth diver?” “No.” “Why not?” “It’s too far from the Vator. We can’t spend more than a day or two outside before our air and water run out, so we’re basically tethered to North America.” “You sound disappointed.” “After decades of diving, it’s picked pretty clean.” “Then why do you go there?” “The same reason you came here—scavenging whatever useful parts we can. Like this.” Ash pulled the pitaya from his pocket and held it up. Skye gave it a dubious glance. “What’s that?” “Fruit.” Her eyes widened. “Like from a tree?” “A cactus, actually.” Ash held out the pitaya; the fist-sized orb just fit through the grate. Like any other wild animal. Tame it with food. Skye hesitated, then took it. Their fingertips brushed and Ash snatched his hand away, feeling contaminated, but the Darksider seemed too absorbed in the fruit to notice. She placed the pitaya under her nose and sniffed. “Can I eat it?” “Sure.” “How?” “Just take a bite.” Skye appraised him suspiciously, then dropped her jaw like a snake and bit

into the pitaya’s flesh. “What is this?” she mumbled around ravenous bites. “It’s called a pitaya. Tons of vitamin C and calcium. Our scientists blended in genes from a legume to increase the protein content.” A wet mouthful of pulp flew across the cell and slapped onto the wall. “This is engineered?” Skye demanded. “Yeah. So what?” An angry flush tinted Skye’s pale face. “Tampering with genes is wrong. That’s what created the Spores and cast humanity out into space. It’s not our place to overrule nature.” “It’s better than starving,” said Ash. “Genetic modification is the only way we can get plants to grow in these conditions.” If they’re relying on natural propagation of whatever organisms they carried off all those years ago, it’s amazing they haven’t all starved to death. “We split off from the Colony to get away from your unnatural meddling,” Skye told him, a quiver in her haughty tone. “Only the pure can return.” “Return where?” “To Earth. ‘For all the siblings we destroyed, we serve bleak penance in the Void, pure of spirit and of bone until the Mother calls us home.’” The words held the dense rhythm of something learned by rote. She held the pitaya as if she expected it to bite her, revulsion and hunger warring in her expression. “At least that’s what Madurai tells us.” “Who is Madurai?” asked Ash. “The last of the pioneers who left the Colony. She communicates with our Mother and tells us how we can atone and go home,” said Skye flatly. “Sounds like you don’t believe her.” Hunger won and Skye devoured the remaining fruit. “I believe in going back to Earth, but I think we have to make it happen ourselves,” she told him between bites.

“By stealing from the Colony.” “Where else are we going to get parts for the Ship?” “You have a ship?” She sucked juice from her fingers. “And plenty of helium-3 to get it into orbit.” Ash’s stomach clenched. “Helium-3 is valuable stuff. I bet you’d kill anyone who came after it.” “You Colonists already have more than your share of resources. All the ice in Shackleton Crater. The solar power from the Peaks of Eternal Light. Plus whatever you find on Earth.” “We’ll use anything we can to make a better home.” “Of course. Mars.” She broke the name into two mocking syllables and grinned, revealing pink-stained teeth. “Humanity’s sanctuary, only two hundred million kilometers away. Why go all that way when there’s a perfectly habitable planet right next to us?” “Perfectly habitable?” Ash repeated, incredulous. “I don’t know what this Madurai tells you about Earth, but it’s a dump. The sooner we salvage what we can and get away from it, the better.” “Then what’s taking so long?” “Terraforming.” Skye frowned. “I thought that started before Sporespread. Didn’t they seed the atmosphere with algae or something?” “Cyanobacteria. But that can take centuries to have any effect. Then there’s the issue of climate, and water, and when most of our resources go to sustaining the Colony—” Ash closed his mouth abruptly with a soft, hollow sound. She’s baiting me. Trying to find out about our plans. She’s studying me, just like I’m studying her. Could she be a spy?

“It doesn’t matter how long it takes,” he said. “We’re all working toward a better future.” “If there’s any of you left to enjoy it,” said Skye, a vicious edge in her voice. “How many of you die pillaging Earth?” For an instant Ash’s mind transformed the cell block into a de-con pod, with Thorn’s limp hand sliding down the glass. Anger singed his throat. “At least we die doing something worthwhile,” he said tightly. “Which is more than anyone will be able to say for you. You’re going to get recycled.” Skye blinked at him. “Recycled?” “Composted. Water and trace minerals strained out, meaty bits ground into fertilizer,” said Ash, relishing his momentary advantage as what little color existed in the Darksider’s face drained away. “At least you’ll make that small contribution to keeping humanity alive.” Turning his back, he stalked away down the cell block. His hand was on the doorpad when she called him. “Ash.” She pronounced his name in a way that made him think of breeze through the kudzu leaves on Earth, emphasizing the whisper at the end. “I don’t want to die. Not like that.” “You don’t give us much choice. We can’t send you back to report on what you’ve seen.” Skye was trembling now, though with fear or rage, Ash couldn’t tell. “I just needed to breathe.” Tears underlined her eyes in liquid crystal. He almost felt sorry for her. “We can’t anyone who isn’t ing the colony,” he said awkwardly, repeating the simplified version of the Colony Code drilled into him as a child. “I can help.” “Help how? No one would trust you with a labor sentence, especially not after you damaged our harvester.”

She laughed. “You won’t need the harvester when you’re sailing off to Mars with a ship full of Earth genes.” “What are you talking about?” “You risk your lives scraping for a few new species. Wouldn’t you like to find thousands of new DNA samples all in one place?” “The archive you Darksiders stole when you betrayed us?” “No. There’s a cache on Earth, at an old military base in North America.” Ash groaned. “I’ve heard this story before. A government stockpiled thousands of samples at some mysterious location to safeguard against environmental disasters. You think I haven’t tried to find places like that? The London seedbank was destroyed in the riots after Sporespread, and Svalbard is underwater now—not that we could reach either of them anyway. I’ve gone through our historical records a hundred times looking for other biorepositories. If this thing actually existed, I’d have heard of it.” “Typical Colonist, thinks he possesses all the knowledge in the universe.” “Typical Darksider, too self-absorbed to help the rest of her species.” They glared at each other, stalemated. “If this place is real, why haven’t the Darksiders gone already?” Ash asked at last. “Our Ship isn’t ready yet, and the Colony controls the elevators and shuttles.” Skye held up her hands one at a time like scales. “You can reach Earth, but stumble around blindly in hopes of stubbing your toe on a useful specimen. I know where to look, but I’m stranded four hundred thousand klicks away. Solve that equation….” She wove her fingers together and twisted them into something like a pale butterfly. “…and solve the question of human survival.” Ash watched her hands. There was something mesmerizing in the movement, and in her message.

All the species we’d need for terraforming, all in one place? It could be the last dive we ever need to make. No more red rings. His pulse hammered his wrists so fiercely that it hurt. A sound at the front of the cell block startled him; Chief Holly stood in the open doorway. “Ash, may I have a moment?” He went without another word, grateful to escape. The Darksider’s eyes burned into his back, searing like midday ultraviolet on Earth. “Ash, Everest ed us,” said Holly the instant the door shut. “He watched your whole interview on the camera feed, and he wants to talk to you.” “Me?” Ash swallowed. “But he heard everything. There’s nothing I can tell him that—” “In person. Right now.” Holly laid a hand on his shoulder and pressed him toward the exit. “Come on, we can’t keep Everest waiting.”

7

Everest

Everest’s chamber lay on the far side of the Shack, past the Health Centre. Medics in white uniforms moved briskly between the sliding doors. A beaming couple walked out of the Repro Lab cradling a newly assigned infant, a gurgling bundle of gametes pre-selected for maximum genetic variation. The tiny fist that emerged from the blankets reminded Ash of a sprout pushing out of the soil. Will that kid have to dive? In fifteen years, will he or she be running around happy on Mars, or suffocating in a de-con pod on Earth? Holly led him down an empty corridor—a rare phenomenon in the crowded colony—and tapped the intercom on an unmarked door. “Sir, it’s CSO Holly. I’ve brought the boy to see you, as you requested.” No verbal response came, but the door clicked open. Ash glanced at the chief, expecting her to go inside. “Aren’t you coming?” She shook her head. “Everest asked to see you, not me. I’ll wait here if you like.” “No need, Holly,” said a disembodied voice from inside the room. “I think our star diver can navigate a few hallways on his own.” “Yes, sir.” Holly nodded at Ash and strode off, leaving him alone at the open door. Blue darkness filled the chamber ahead. The air wafting out, several degrees cooler than the rest of the living areas, bore faint threads of sound: an ancient recording of strings that wove complex patterns around a high, plaintive melody. Temperature and music combined to send a shiver up Ash’s back. “If you’d be more comfortable, Ash, I’ll come outside and we can have our conversation elsewhere,” the voice offered. You’ve gone into more creepy old buildings and dark places than you can

count. Nothing scary about this one. Ash stepped over the threshold and the door whispered shut behind him. Clustered screens cast the room’s only light. A silhouetted figure sat before them, watching Colony life play out on the surveillance feeds. One extended hand typed notes into a console, fingers rising and falling with mechanical precision. “I don’t know whether it’s appropriate to first offer my congratulations or my condolences,” said the quiet voice. “Your achievement as a terranaut is invaluable to the Colony’s progress, so I would be remiss not to extend my personal gratitude. But it also seems insensitive to dwell only on success when it’s born of such sacrifice.” The chair swiveled, and Ash locked gazes with Shackleton Colony’s leader. Green irises shone through a pearly film of age, their color as rare and unsettling as Skye’s blue ones. Everest rose with slow precision, and the mechanical exosuit ing his ancient frame whirred softly beneath his robe. “I’m sorry about your brother Hawthorne.” “It happens,” said Ash flatly. Quark me, I sound like Mom. “Understanding the loss doesn’t diminish the grief. After such a tragedy, I can understand why you’d want to believe her.” Everest indicated a screen showing the video feed from the brig, where Skye had resumed pacing her tiny cell. “I don’t know what amazes me more—that the Darksiders survived, or that they’re still perpetuating the delusions that led to the schism. Their leader must be quite persuasive.” “Madurai, I think she’s called. One of the original defectors,” said Ash. “Did you know her?” “Not by that name, but it’s possible she once had another. She must have been a small child when she was taken from us.” Everest shook his head, and the wisps of white hair around his bald crown stirred like clouds on a lofty peak. “Our race will never regain its glory if we divide it. Not that I can’t sympathize with the impatience. Transforming a planet and rebuilding a civilization takes lifetimes.” He glanced down at his own body—an amalgamation of metal, silicone, and withered flesh—and chuckled. “It’s been at least two for me. This isn’t something a young man like you will

appreciate, Ash, but sometimes I wonder if protracted living for a cause can’t be as great a sacrifice as dying for it.” “You turned a bunch of miners, researchers, and terrified kids into a sustainable Colony.” And I can’t even get a three-person dive team home safely. “Not just anyone could do that.” The papery folds of Everest’s face twitched in what might have been a smile. “No—our Colonists did that, with their determination and loyalty. And those who broke from us clearly suffered for their selfishness.” He nodded at Skye’s thin, anxious image. “Their selfishness could be to our advantage,” said Ash. “I think she’d buy her own life with some Darksider secrets.” “Or some clever tales,” Everest grunted. “Pity there’s no way to tell the difference.” Ash couldn’t extinguish the idea gnawing at his brain. “Yes, there is. We go see if the place she describes really exists.” One bushy eyebrow arched. “And if she’s lying?” “We lose some dive time, that’s all. But if there really is such a place and we ignore it, we could miss out on thousands of pure old DNA samples. With material like that, we might finally have enough to terraform Mars. No one would have to dive.” The word came out sounding like die, and Ash’s ghostly reflection in the screen reminded him of Thorn. He swallowed hard. “When your species is down to its last four hundred , even one loss is devastating,” said Everest softly, laying a prosthetic hand on Ash’s shoulder. “So you must understand why I can’t risk a team of young lives on the claim of a desperate traitor.” “Then let me go alone.” “You’re our best diver!” “And I’ve only got a few months left.” Ash’s chest clenched, acknowledging that his body was a time bomb with a short fuse. “Instead of a few more

dives scraping for one or two new species, I’d rather go for the jackpot.” The forest-colored stare held him. “That’s the kind of thinking that split the colony more than seventy years ago. Shortcuts are tempting, whether it’s returning to our old homeworld or finding all the genetic specimens we need conveniently cached in one place, but they will ultimately lead us astray. Restoring a once-great society is arduous, yes, but we’re making good progress.” “Are we?” asked Ash, bitterness filling his throat. “Every battle has casualties, Ash. But those losses will mean nothing if we give up the fight. I believe the best way to honor Hawthorne, and all the others, is to continue with the Mars plan.” Ash closed his eyes, summoning all teammates he’d lost in the past two years. Ginger, red-ringed; Arum, crushed in a building collapse; Clover, who took a handful of Edge and never woke up. “And you can help me ensure its success,” Everest went on. “I’ve seen what discord can do in a small, strained community. If people learn about the Darksider and what she claims to offer, it could divide us again. We can’t compromise our unity. It’s as critical to our survival as water and oxygen.” “What do you want me to do?” “Put this traitor’s fantasies out of your mind and let us celebrate your achievement tomorrow. Give everyone some hope.” Ash ed the eager faces in the greenhouse and sighed. “All right.” The old man clasped Ash’s hands in a fold of cool metal and warm skin. “Thank you, Ash. Not just from myself, but on behalf of the Colony. By extension, I suppose that’s the remainder of the human race.” He chuckled. “That sounds more dire than I intended. I’ll make sure to be more cheerful at the ceremony tomorrow.” Ash moved towards the door, then turned. “Sir? What will happen to the Darksider?”

“Honestly, I haven’t decided. Thanks to you, we can infer their hideout is underground, and close to helium-3 deposits. I’ll ask Holly and our excellent security team to do some reconnaissance. Depending on what they find, the girl may be of further use. And I’m sure our scientists want to study her. After that…well, we’ll see what’s left.” Everest sank back into his deep chair. “It would be best to forget the incident and not speak of it again. The last thing we need now is mass panic over Darksider attacks, or false promises of returning to Earth.” “It’s just one crazy girl. She can’t pose much of a threat.” The old man’s ephemeral smile held a hundred and fifty years of sadness. “Neither did one genetically modified grain. Or so they thought. As someone forced to watch his world expire from afar, trust me on one thing—it’s dangerous to assume you can control forces you don’t fully understand.” He turned away and resumed his vigil at the wall of flickering windows.

8

Hero

The dour woman folded her green sleeves, looking disappointed. “So you’re the Darksider.” “Technically Shackleton Crater is part of the South Pole-Aitken Basin, which is technically on the far side of Luna,” Skye told her. “So technically, we’re all Darksiders.” “Is that some kind of plea for solidarity?” “No. Just correcting your lamentable grasp of lunar geography.” “Juniper!” Holly’s irritated voice rang through the cell block. She strode up, shoving aside the green-coated lab assistant who moved to block her, and pushed her nose an inch from Juniper’s. “Who authorized you to talk to my prisoner?” “Your prisoner? I think you mean my specimen.” “My name isn’t Prisoner or Specimen,” said Skye. “And I don’t appreciate the possessive pronouns.” Both women ignored her. “Open the cell. You’ve already kept me waiting,” said Juniper. “Security comes before science experiments,” Holly growled. “Science is our only true security. Now stop wasting my time and let me work.” “I haven’t finished interrogating her. Why the big rush to poke her full of holes?” “Emergency analysis, in case something in her biology can help me improve the prophylactic shots they give the terranauts. They just lost another one.” Holly frowned. “Really? Who?”

“I don’t his name.” Juniper waved a dismissive hand. “The record boy’s twin.” “Ash’s brother? Thorn?” The new information sent a jolt into Skye’s brain. His brother died on Earth? No wonder he’s so bitter about the planet. She kept quiet, hoping they might say more. “You know him?” Juniper asked. “I had the pair of them in my office plenty of times after their father died. Just naughty kid stuff—carving on the walls or sneaking into restricted areas. Thorn was a cheeky little instigator, but he made me laugh. Always dragging his twin into trouble. Poor Ash.” Holly shook her head. “I know they have to hush it up when kids get red-ringed, for morale, but it’s still sad.” Juniper groaned. “Sentimentality won’t bring back the dead. But studying her might benefit the living.” She jerked her chin at Skye. “In which category will that leave me?” Skye muttered, not expecting a response this time. “Do you really think a few cell scrapings have immediate value than information about our enemies?” Holly asked Juniper, glaring. “People lie. Their genes don’t.” “That doesn’t give you permission to interfere with my investigation.” “It does, actually,” said Juniper coolly. “If you don’t believe me, call Everest.” “I will.” Holly thumbed her earpiece. Terse murmurs came through it, and her shoulders arched higher with each word. “Yes, sir, she’s here, but…yes. Yes, sir.” Mouth pursed, Holly unlocked the cell. “Pyres.” Juniper bent a finger toward her assistant and he scurried forward, clutching a small injection gun.

Skye swallowed against the anxious ripples in her chest. “Why are you assuming this has to be difficult? Just try asking me politely if I’ll cooperate.” She moved back, forcing Pyres to creep into the cell after her. Up close he wasn’t much older than herself, barely into his twenties, with a spotty face and nervous eyes. He dithered at the grate, keeping his distance. “For Goddard’s sake, Pyres, she’s handcuffed. Stop dancing with her and get on with it,” Juniper snapped. Her voice spurred him awkwardly forward. Skye stepped aside, then lashed out with her foot. Her heel sank into spongy abdominal flesh. Pyres staggered back. The gun clattered to the floor. Skye lunged for it, grasping with bound hands, but a green hem swirled across her face. “Holly, restrain her!” Juniper barked, blocking Skye’s way. “Call some officers!” Holly leaned against the opposite cell, arms folded. “The old man ordered me to permit you access to the prisoner. He didn’t say anything about helping you dissect her.” She gave a steely smile. “But science is true security, right? You’ll be fine.” Juniper kicked Pyres even harder than Skye had. “Get up and get the paralytic.” Whimpering, the boy crawled after the injection gun. The open door stood unguarded. Skye darted for it. Someone seized her shoulders; she jammed her elbow back and found ribs. Juniper cursed, but didn’t let go. Twisting around, Skye raked her fingernails down the older woman’s face. Pain stung the back of her neck. “No!” she yelped, thrashing as nauseous plumes of serum unfurled beneath her skin. Her legs melted away under her. She fixed Juniper with the most hateful stare she could summon. Then her head fell back and she saw only the ceiling. Hands lowered her down. “Idiot,” Juniper snarled at Pyres. She raised a cuff and dabbed the blood from her cheek. “She could have killed one of us, or escaped. Get out of my sight.” “But….” The boy’s mouth wobbled.

“Don’t bother coming back to the lab. I have no use for an apprentice who can’t handle live specimens.” Pyres fled the cell block. “There goes number eleven,” said Holly, with mild amusement. “Twelve.” Juniper began lining up empty specimen tubes. “I don’t think much of this latest generation. I haven’t found a single apprentice who meets my expectations.” “Maybe you shouldn’t expect them to be Lily.” “Lily has nothing to do with it,” said Juniper, pulling on sterile gloves with a snap that closed the subject. She loomed over Skye, a glowering silhouette. Skye tried to pull away, but her muscles refused to comply. Her body offered no resistance to the cold swab of astringent, the soft suck of blood into a syringe, or the fire of a thick needle plunging into bone. At least I can’t scream. Instruments took delicate bites of her and spat them out into vials. The overhead lights seared her vision into a sheet of blazing white. Pretend it’s the sun. This floor is bare rock. I’m on Earth, far from here, resting under a wide blue sky. She slipped away in her mind as glass vultures picked her flesh.

⁂

Applause echoed off the domed ceiling of the assembly chamber. Ash winced under the hammering sound, the stab of lights in his eyes, the stale heat of too many human bodies. I shouldn’t have taken the Goddard-damned pills. Instead of elevating him to a realm of calm focus, as they did on Earth, the drug’s effect indoors only amplified the suffocating closeness. He imagined

himself away from the stage, into some derelict building on Earth where the clapping became rain on pavement and he sat quietly with his team, waiting for a storm to . If he unfocused his eyes, the four hundred people around him melted into a panoramic smudge of blue, red, and green. Almost the whole human population in a single auditorium. They deserve something better than the Shack. In the center of the dais, Everest began a speech. Ash tried to pay attention, but his mind fixated on select words and spun out their meanings. “…so committed to the betterment of our Colony, we seldom stop to recognize our own progress….” Progress? We’ve been sending divers to Earth for seventy-five years, but we’re still stuck in the Shack. “…species collected through the GAEA program will transform Mars into a new homeworld….” How much more could they do with thousands of preserved Earth species to grow? “…as we celebrate the Shackleton Colony’s centennial year as the sanctuary of the human species, we owe special gratitude to our brave young terranauts, whose unwavering dedication….” Dead-ication. “Ash,” Rowan hissed, poking him in the ribs. Startled from his daze, Ash saw Everest beckoning to him. Hot blood rushed into his face and he moved forward with a jolt, almost sailing past the podium. The old man steadied him with a strong robotic arm. In the silicone-veined palm lay a small, asymmetrical medal. “Normally planets in syzygy are bound by gravity, but these three are ed by an even greater force—human endeavor. I commissioned this specially, a unique commemoration for an unmatched achievement,” Everest proclaimed. He pinned the badge to the front of Ash’s uniform, lowering his voice to add privately, “Hideous design, of course—I fear we’re

losing our species’ knack for art—but it represents my sincerest appreciation.” Another clapping squall shook the room. Ash distracted himself by examining the medallion. Three astronomical symbols twined together in bright silver alloy. Earth, a circle with a cross representing its equator and meridian, made the central figure. Its left hemisphere formed the inner arc of a crescent moon. On the right, the equator line shot out into an arrow, the tip of Mars’ spear pointing toward the future. The weight of three worlds, literally hanging on me. Thorn would laugh so hard at this. Everest began speaking again. “Ash’s accomplishment brings us closer to our goal, but the journey is one of many steps. Don’t forget to glance up from the path and our destination.” He gestured to the video screen behind him. It came to life with grainy still images: rows of geometric habitats, machines tilling rusty soil, alien bluffs dusted with green. Excited murmurs swept through the crowd. “We received these latest photos from the terraforming bots just a few days ago.” Everest beamed. “They’re seeding the first plant species, designed specially to facilitate the atmospheric conversion. With continued effort like that of Ash and his comrades, we might soon see our progress on Mars in higher definition—with our own eyes.” Cheers erupted. A few people embraced; a man in the front row wiped away a tear. Only when the pictures faded did the audience begin shuffling toward the door. Black-clad security officers whisked Everest back to his chamber. Ash started to leave the stage, but Rowan caught his arm. “You were orbiting Saturn for half of that ceremony,” he said in a low voice. “I know the old man can go on, but that’s not like you.” “I didn’t sleep much last night,” Ash said truthfully. “You’re too old to lose sleep over Darksider stories.” “How do you know about her?”

“There are no secrets in the Shack, Ash. We breathe an atmosphere of nitrogen, oxygen, and rumors. Nothing stays private for long. That’s why divers who take Edge are eventually found out.” He fixed Ash with a shrewd look. “I don’t see why it’s a big deal,” said Ash, tacking around the question. “If it helps divers stay alive and find more specimens, so what? It doesn’t hurt anyone else.” “In my day, divers did all that with just their skills,” Rowan grumbled. “We didn’t need sensory enhancers and stimulants and Goddard knows what else they put in those cocktails.” “You didn’t win any medals, either,” Ash teased. Rowan cuffed him on the ear. “Go hug your mother.” Ash waded into the dispersing crowd, where Fern waited for him. “I’m so proud of you,” she said, squeezing him around the shoulders. “I’m just glad it’s over.” Fern chuckled and laid a hand to his cheek. “You always were the quiet one. When our names came up for the adoption lottery and they told us we’d be getting twins, somehow I thought you’d be just alike. Instead we got Sol and Luna—one blazing and one cool.” And I eclipsed him. The medal felt like it was made of dark matter, heavy enough to crush him. Suddenly Ash couldn’t stand to be in the room anymore. He caught sight of Rowan leaving and seized on the excuse. “I need to talk to Rowan. See you later.” He plunged into the throng. Every brush of sleeve and burst of laughter assaulted him. By the time he got free, the dive coordinator had disappeared. He walked until found an empty tunnel. The wall purred against his back as he slid down to the floor. “Those losses will mean nothing if we give up the fight….” “You’ll be grounded in a few months….”

“I know where to find every species you’d ever want….” The mental onslaught broke over him, and he spun a defensive cocoon of ambient, chemically sharpened details. Oxygen tasted sterile and metallic, with a faint tang of sodium hydroxide from the scrubbers. Chill from the lunarcrete seeped into his legs and shoulder blades. Beneath the omnipresent drone of the air filtration system, he caught fragments of conversation. “—failed again,” said a woman. “This can’t go on. We don’t have much time left.” “If you didn’t jettison every apprentice you get, maybe we could make some progress.” Curious, Ash peered around the corner. Rowan strode up the corridor, looking grim. Beside him, Juniper walked so stiff and erect that she might have been wearing Everest’s exoskeleton. Vials chimed in a caddy dangling from her fist. “I can’t trust anyone else with this,” she muttered to Rowan. “Bad enough I trusted you.” “It was my damn idea!” “A juvenile whim that I turned into something greater. I was thinking about the future, while you were a mewling dive brat thinking only about yourself.” Rowan turned to face her, forcing her to stop short. “You know exactly who I was thinking about.” “For Goddard’s sake, Rowan, it’s been almost twenty-five years. Move on.” The hallway distorted his laughter into bitter echoes. “If your science were as inspired as your hypocrisy—” Juniper cut him off with a warning hiss as her eyes found Ash. Three red gashes marred her cheek.

Rowan glanced down at him. “Thought you’d still be in the auditorium, Ash.” “Too crowded. And I needed to talk to you.” “Can it wait?” “No need. We’re finished here,” said Juniper. She shouldered Rowan aside and swept off. “What was that about?” asked Ash, standing. “Just GAEA stuff,” Rowan muttered. “It sounded intense.” “Catag and analyzing the last remaining life forms from a dying planet is intense work, and she’s too stubborn to accept help. And she thinks I’m the selfish one.” He glowered after Juniper. “She offered me an apprenticeship,” said Ash. “I think. Maybe.” “Makes sense. You’re the best Gatherer in a generation. Gonna take it?” “I’ve got more diving to do first. That’s what I wanted to ask you about.” Ash glanced behind him, checking that no one had wandered into earshot. “It’s getting harder to find new specimens.” “I know. But the Vator gives us a limited radius for exploration, and not everyone’s as adventurous as you,” said Rowan, arching an eyebrow. “Right. So if I located a place that could give us a ton of new specimens, all at once, would you help me get there? Even if it meant breaking protocol?” Rowan chuckled. “I’ve never been much for protocol. Why do you think I’m still stuck babysitting in the Vator?” “Because you keep turning down promotions.” “Wearing a stupid blue tunic and being a program isn’t my idea of a promotion. Besides, I’ve gotten fond of all you brats.” Rowan

sighed. “Maybe Juniper’s right when she says I never outgrew diving, but my loyalty is with the terranauts. If you’ve been scouring the archives again and found a new site, I’ll help you get there. Where is it?” “I…need to do a little more research first,” said Ash. “Don’t take too long. Shuttle leaves tomorrow.” Once Rowan disappeared around the corner, Ash bolted for the brig. The door didn’t acknowledge his palm, so he knocked until it slid open. “What do you want now, a limb?” Holly snarled, swiveling in her chair. When she saw Ash, her face relaxed. “Sorry, Ash! Thought it was Juniper again.” “I ed her in the hall. What was she doing here?” “Cannibalizing my prisoner.” She indicated the surveillance video of Skye sprawled on the floor of her cell. She looks like an animal carcass in the desert, after the scavengers have picked it clean. Ash shuddered. “What did they do to her?” “What didn’t they do? Blood samples, spinal fluid, tissue plugs, bone biopsies. No one’s seen a Darksider in years, so they’re drooling to put her cells on a slide.” Holly folded her arms in disapproval. “She’s no good to me in pieces. I wanted to conduct another interrogation today, but I doubt that’s going to happen now.” “Is she unconscious?” asked Ash. “I don’t know. Why?” “Everest wanted me to ask her some more questions about that Earth site she mentioned.” The lie rolled off his tongue with unsettling ease. “He didn’t mention it to me,” said Holly, frowning.

“He just told me now, at the ceremony. It’s short notice because I’m heading back to GEO tomorrow.” Holly chewed her lip a moment. “Well, you can’t make things worse.” Shrugging, she opened the cell block door and waved Ash into the smell of cold metal and the echo of shallow breathing.

⁂

Far away, on another planet, the door rattled open. Adrenaline burst through Skye’s blood, urging her torpid limbs awake. She tried to sit up, but her body remained splayed on its side, one hip ground into the floor. Vibrations from approaching footsteps buzzed in her bones. She summoned the only defense left to her: pure contempt. “Forget something?” she called, hating how her tongue slurred the words. “You left both eyeballs and most of my organs.” “Keep ‘em.” A pair of polished boots planted themselves in front of her. She slid her gaze upward and met somber brown eyes peering through the grate. Ash looked different than before. He’d combed his hair and exchanged his faded jumpsuit for one so stiff it crackled when he crouched. Light glinted on a strange medallion pinned to his chest. “Hey, hero,” she said, giving the syllables a mocking lilt. “Win a medal for catching me?” Ash glanced down at the ornament as if he’d forgotten it was there. “No.” “For what, then?” “Breaking Lily’s record.” “You don’t sound very excited about it,” said Skye. “Is she angry that you beat her?”

“Doubt it. She died years ago.” “What happened to her?” When Ash didn’t respond, she added, “If I have to drag every sentence out of you, this is going to be a tedious conversation.” “She got red-ringed,” Ash grunted. “Like your brother?” Ash pulled back so sharply that she expected him to fall over. “How do you know about him?” Her laugh came out as a strained gurgle. “You hear a lot when people prefer to pretend you’re not there.” Torment and stoicism warred in his expression. “I can’t even feel sad without it seeming selfish, because everyone in the Shack has lost someone to Earth,” he said at last. “Returning to the Mother is better than dying in a vacuum up here,” said Skye. “You haven’t seen what happens,” Ash told her harshly. He rocked forward and lowered his voice to a whisper. “I want Thorn to be the last person we sacrifice to that awful planet. Tell me where to find your DNA bank.” Skye concentrated on her facial muscles and tried to pull her mouth into something like a condescending smirk. “No.” His baffled look made her want to laugh. “But you said—” “I won’t tell you. But I will show you.” “I can’t take you on a dive. Even if I could smuggle you down there somehow—” “Smuggle me?” Skye pounced on his words. “This isn’t an official mission, then. Your masters haven’t agreed to spare me if I help you.” Ash picked at a spot on his boot. “No,” he itted. “I suggested it to

Everest, but….” “Everest?” “Our leader.” “I know who he is,” said Skye. Madurai’s voice muttered in the back of her mind: “Everest, he called himself, after the highest peak on Earth. Arrogance! Believing himself the species’ savior, encouraging blasphemies in the name of survival….” “How is he even alive?” she asked. He must be almost a hundred and fifty! “Science and persistence,” said Ash. “Yeah, he’s old. He’s seen how things like this divide people, and thinks searching for your lost repository will split up the Colony again.” “So I’m dead,” said Skye. “Interrogated, depredated, exterminated.” She half-sang her own eulogy in a dark minor key. “Maybe not. If I bring back a whole DNA bank, he might change his mind,” said Ash. “Ending the dive program could save dozens, even hundreds of Colonists.” “What’s the current exchange rate on Darksiders?” Needles spread through Skye’s awakening fingers; she lifted them one at a time, tallying. “How many of your lives will buy mine?” “I don’t know. But if you tell me where to go, and we recover the specimens, I swear on my brother’s memory I’ll do whatever I can to help you.” “Or you could just bring back the treasure and leave me here to rot,” Skye spat. “Why should I trust you? Maybe you just want another award.” “I don’t care about this.” Ash plucked the bauble off his chest. “I don’t even care if I come back, as long as no one else ever has to go.” “Oh, so hero isn’t enough—only full martyrdom will do for you.” The prickling in Skye’s hand crept up her arm. She tried moving her legs. “You’re apathetic about death, and I’m determined to live. Too bad we

can’t trade places.” “You’d make a lousy terranaut,” said Ash. “There’s no place for selfishness down there. Your team has to come first.” “Is that how you broke that record, by putting your team before your prizes?” Ash looked away, glaring down the empty cell block. She let him brood and focused on reanimating her arm. “I thought you said Darksiders believe in atonement,” he murmured after a long moment, turning the strange, asymmetrical medallion in his fingers. “Making up for the past.” “You can’t undo bad choices, only start making better ones.” Hooking rubbery fingers around the grate, Skye hauled herself into a limp sitting position. Her nerves became comets, icy gravel searing through her body. Under Ash’s stare, she reconfigured her grimace into a grin. “I can show you something that will change the Colony’s entire future. But you have to trust me. What will you choose, hero?”

II. Opposition Effect

1

Team

“I can’t believe you talked me into this,” Rowan grumbled, drifting in front of the shuttle’s hatch. Clicks and whirs from the docking mechanism punctuated his words. “An unauthorized dive with a Darksider. Everest will have me recycled when he finds out.” “Why? He’s the one who approved it,” said Ash with a half-smile. “He approved my bogus proposal for survivability analysis. As if a stroll on the Earth’s crust can demonstrate that terranauts will make hardier Martian colonists than people who’ve never experienced planetary conditions.” The dive coordinator sighed. “The old man is so desperate to prop up the GAEA program, he’ll endorse anything that might convince people it’s worth keeping.” “When I’m finished, we won’t need GAEA anymore.” We’ll have thousands of pure genetic specimens, enough to turn that red planet green in a few generations. Rowan raised a skeptical eyebrow. “You’ve got a lot of faith in your new girlfriend.” “She’s not a friend of any kind,” Ash muttered. “I think she’s telling the truth about the DNA bank, but that doesn’t mean I trust her.” “Just that. Keep her restrained whenever possible and don’t let her out of your sight. She might try to escape.” “Where’s she going to go? Her filter would run out inside two days. If she were lucky, dehydration would kill her before the Spores did. Either way, it’s a death sentence.” The gold dust in Rowan’s brown irises shimmered. “Some people think it’s better to die in the wild than live in a cage.” He rapped his knuckles on the dented hull for emphasis.

“I don’t think so. But if it comes to that….” Digging into his pocket, Ash pulled out the syzygy medal. I don’t deserve to wear this anyway, especially now. I can’t be the Colony’s hero while cooperating with a traitor. “Will you give this to my mom? Tell her…just tell her I wanted to make sure those kids in her class never had to dive.” Rowan nodded solemnly. “Of course. But I’m sure she’d rather have you back alive. There’s nothing harder than a lifetime trapped on Luna when someone you love—” He went silent as a pair of security officers emerged from the rear of the shuttle, escorting Skye in handcuffs between them. An opaque visor hid her eyes, but somehow she intuited Ash's position and flashed him an unnerving smirk. “Take her straight to medical and have Valerian clear her for descent,” Rowan instructed the officers. “Tell him to keep her there until I clear the divers out of the Vator. I don't want her attracting a lot of necessary attention.” The hatch finally hissed open, itting a collective gasp of anticipation from outside. “Too late,” said Ash. Two dozen curious teenagers pressed into the mouth of the gangway, peering around each other’s shoulders and elbows. Rowan uttered a soft curse. “What did I tell you? No secrets in space.” He raised his voice. “Make a hole, brats.” They obeyed, and the officers marched Skye down a gauntlet of stares and whispers. “Quark me, they are real!” “Eww, it looks like something I found under a rock one time.” “Touch it! I dare you!” An anonymous hand poked Skye in the arm. She jerked away, baring her teeth toward the aggressor, but the officers maintained their grip. Another finger darted out to sting her, then another.

“Hands in pockets!” Rowan roared. “This is not a Goddard-damned zoo.” The kids shrank back, still humming with excitement. Heads craned for a final glimpse of the Darksider before the security detail dragged her around a corner. Ash exhaled, surprised to find he’d been holding his breath. Was I afraid they’d attack her, or the other way around? “All right, you voyeuristic little beasts, show's over. The Darksider is here for a special research project. All dives are suspended until the study concludes,” said Rowan. A groan went up from the assembly and he raised his hands firmly to quell it. “No argument. This is important for both GAEA and the Mars program, so it's our duty to cooperate. I’ve authorized extra Luna leave in the meantime. The first shuttle heads back in a few hours, so get packed.” Kids began drifting away in a cloud of excited mutters and Rowan turned to Ash, lowering his voice. “Pick your team and I'll arrange for them to stay behind.” “Team? I thought it would just be me and the Darksider,” said Ash. “You’re not going anywhere with her alone. Take at least two Hunters—one to watch the prisoner and one to cover you. An extra Gatherer isn’t a bad idea, either.” “Quads only carry three engers.” “Then take two quads.” Ash gritted his teeth. “The whole point of this mission is to prevent divers from dying, not to put even more of them in danger.” “If you won’t pick an adequate team, I’ll send you back to Luna with the rest.” “What if no one wants to go?” Rowan snorted. “Find me one terranaut who turns down the chance for a prize like this and I’ll retire to the oxygen farms. But this isn’t just any dive,

so don’t take just any diver. Pick people you can trust.” He sailed out of the docking bay before Ash could raise further objections. The only diver I trust got red-ringed on our last trip. Dammit, Thorn, I need you now more than ever. Pushing his dead brother’s image reluctantly from his mind, Ash tried to think of other veterans he might ask, but recalled only brief interactions with blurred faces. I’ve hardly even talked to half these kids and I’m asking them to follow me on a potential suicide mission? I don’t even know who’s good enough to handle the task…wait, yes I do. He moved through the stark corridors until he reached the scoreboard. Seeing his own picture atop the all-time list still gave him a jolt. Lily gazed down at him, disdainful as he scoured names and numbers. I wish I could’ve known you, Lily. You’d have understood me. If you hadn’t been red-ringed, you’d be Rowan’s age now. Maybe you’d even be the dive coordinator. No, you were too good for that. You’d be replacing Juniper as Chief Geneticist, probably too busy and important to talk to a dive brat like me. But if you had, I could have learned so much from you…. “iring yourself?” The voice startled Ash so badly he almost did a flip. Halley smokes, Lily is talking to me. Maybe Rowan’s right about overdosing on Edge. But the bewitching laugh that followed could never come from the stonefaced girl in the picture. Righting himself, Ash looked around at Willow. “I watched your ceremony on the video link. Getting an award in front of the whole Colony would be enough for most people, but you had to stop a Darksider attack, too.” She smiled. “Just another day for you, I guess.” “I didn't want any of that stuff. It just happens,” Ash mumbled. “If you don't like it, maybe you should let it happen to someone else,” said Willow, a brittle undertone in her casual words. She’s one of the best terranauts on the roster. And if I had to trust anyone….

“Someone like you?” he asked. Willow’s eyes narrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Ash glanced around the corridor. “I can’t tell you now. Someone might overhear.” She appraised him for a moment, then gestured for him to follow. They ed through the skybridge to the Vator’s central core, where metal stairs spiraled between the levels, and propelled themselves along a railing to the shaft’s bottom. “Where are we?” Ash asked. Rumbles from an adjacent machine room almost drowned out his voice. “You haven’t been here before? I thought all the vets knew about it.” Willow pulled him into an alcove behind the steps. Barely a meter wide, the space forced them so close together that Ash could count her eyelashes. An arch smile lit her face. “It’s a blind spot in the Vator’s security cameras. There are a few of them, but this is the only one that can accommodate two people.” Heat spread up Ash’s neck. And I’m here to recruit her for an illegal dive. Really romantic. “So?” Willow prompted him. “What’s this big secret?” Ash took a deep breath and told her, watching her brown eyes widen with each sentence. “This could change everything,” she murmured when he finished. “If it’s true.” “There's only one way to find out. Willow, you're the best Gatherer on the roster—” “After you.” “—and one of the most experienced divers. If you’re willing to come with me….”

She laughed. “Are you kidding? I’ve only got a few months left before they ground me. I need a big score. Besides, I’d like it if my last dive were the last dive. Who else are you taking?” “I haven’t asked anyone else yet,” Ash itted, and the responding smile emboldened him to continue. “Maybe you can recommend some Hunters.” “Linden,” said Willow immediately. Ash frowned. “Isn’t he a little aggressive? He puts an x on his strap for every creature he shoots.” “Did you think I got to be a top Gatherer without a great Hunter watching my back? Linden’s been on my team for ages. I know he’s reliable. He also works really well with my other Hunter, Dill.” “I heard Dill is mean to the weeds.” “He just hazes them a little. We all got it when we started. It’s tradition.” Willow waved a dismissive hand. “Besides, there won’t be any weeds on this trip, just an enemy prisoner who needs strong handling. Linden and Dill will be perfect for that job.” “I’ll take your word for it. I barely know them.” “I can fix that.” Willow tugged his elbow and led the way back to the main level. Divers trickled out of the dormitory, wearing backpacks and scowls. Talk buzzed between the bunks: “…glad to get some real food….” “…turn sixteen next month. That might have been my last dive….” “…research is just a cover. I heard they’re really using the Darksider to test an experimental cure for Spores….” “Who started that stupid rumor?” Willow responded to the last remark. Dill turned and grinned at her. “I did. I want to see how many weeds start pestering Rowan for anti-Spore shots.” He sneered at Ash. “All hail the

hero! What’s he doing down here with the dive brats?” “Showing off his medal?” asked Linden, who hung upside down in the gap between the bunks. Willow yanked his collar, sending him into a cartwheel. “Shut up and listen.” Ash hesitated. Linden and Dill watched him like a pair of hungry coywolves, waiting to rip him apart. The scoreboard doesn’t lie—they’re good terranauts, however they come across. Sure enough, both boys’ expressions changed when Ash whispered his plan to them beneath the ambient chatter. “That’s even crazier than my story,” said Dill, laughter shaking his wiry frame. “So crazy it might actually be true,” Linden added. “I’m in.” “Me too. Thousands of samples! We’ll rule the scoreboard.” Dill cackled. “How do we even divide up points from that? I mean, we’re not an official team, so do we add them to our regular stats, or—” “Let’s worry about stats after we find the specimens,” said Ash. “Fair enough.” Linden folded his arms. “So what kind of biome we dealing with? Sunken city? Desert? One of the Western burn zones?” “I…I don’t know,” said Ash. “The Darksider wouldn’t tell me the exact location until I got her off Luna.” “Who’s in charge, you or her?” Willow demanded. Ash’s cheeks burned. “I’ll go talk to her,” he muttered. Three pairs of critical eyes bored into his back as he left.

⁂

Only a crazy Darksider could find a way to pace in microgravity. Ash stared through the one-way glass of the medical bay’s quarantine cell, where a blond meteor bounced from wall to wall, turning a tight flip in the middle of each . Hair wreathed her face like cirrus clouds around a pale winter sun. Her lips moved beneath the visor, but no voice penetrated the barrier. “She’s been doing that since I finished the exam,” said Valerian, without looking up from his computer monitor. “I had to shut off the commlink because she wouldn’t stop talking.” “I don’t suppose there’s a cure for that?” Ash muttered, thinking back to the interviews in Luna’s brig. The young medic chuckled. “She needs very few problems cured, surprisingly. Aside from some vitamin deficiencies and mild osteoporosis, she’s no worse than the average weed. Her musculature is quite robust for someone raised on Luna.” “Hauling stolen equipment from the Shack must be good strength training,” said Ash dryly. That, and wrestling with Colonists who wander onto the surface. “Think she’ll be able to handle the gravity?” Valerian shrugged. “I can’t say for certain. You’ll just have to see when you get there.” “Then she’s cleared to go Earthside?” “Physically, she’s capable of surviving the conditions. Mentally…I don’t have any reference for Darksider psychology, but she seems a bit unstable. Fought like a cornered coywolf until I explained I was just going to scan her.” “Probably because Juniper was a little rough with her back on Luna.” “Juniper’s rough with everyone,” said Valerian with a derisive snort. “My parents thought I was stupid to quit my apprenticeship in the Repro Lab, but officially it’s part of GAEA—still genetics, you know—so even medical personnel answered to that old harpy. I transferred here at the first chance I got.

GEO might be dull as a red dwarf, but at least no one tells me to shut up and stop asking questions.” “Is it really that awful? She invited me to work on GAEA after I’m grounded,” Ash confided. “Plenty of kids would kill for that chance. Are you going to accept?” “I don’t know. First I have to survive this….” Ash caught himself before the word dive slipped from his mouth. “This illegal dive?” Valerian finished. He laughed and swept back a handful of lush, dark hair. “What, you thought you could stage fake medical research without fake results to accompany it? Rowan told me what you’re doing. If I were ten years younger, I’d go with you. Who’re you taking?” “Linden, Dill, and Willow.” Valerian’s eyes widened, revealing pupils so dilated that they reduced his irises to sepia slivers. “Be careful.” “I know Linden and Dill act like tough guys, but I think they’re just anxious about getting grounded, like everyone else,” said Ash. “Not them. Willow.” “What do you mean? She’s a great Gatherer. And a captain, with plenty of ground experience.” A knowing smirk crossed Valerian’s face. “It’s dangerous to dive with someone you wish could be more than a teammate.” “I don’t know what you mean,” said Ash, scrutinizing his boots. “Your microchip does. Did you forget that it beams me your biometric data?” Valerian displayed a spiky electrocardiogram on the screen. “Based on cardiac rhythms and respiration alone, I can guess the secret crushes of every kid in the Vator.” Ash forced his voice to stay level. “You must be really bored up here.”

“Incredibly. But don’t worry, you’re not the only one. There are regulations against fraternization for a reason.” “I don’t want to fraternize anyone.” “Good. That story always ends badly,” said Valerian. “Wait until you’re back on Luna to get your heart broken—after a few months on that rock, you’ll be desperate for a kick in the brain chemistry.” Ash glanced around. They were alone in the medical bay, and Skye couldn’t hear them in her cell. Dropping his voice, he said, “I’m desperate enough already. Out of Edge.” “Already? I gave you a bunch before you went down last time! They’re not candy, you know.” Valerian drifted across the sickbay and rummaged through a deep cabinet. “Lucky for you I just cooked up a new batch. Improved the formula, too. I added stimulants derived from one of the recent plant discoveries, so it should keep you going even longer.” “That doesn't help me much if the sensory enhancement wears off,” said Ash. “Last time it was gone before we even got back to the quad.” “No one else has mentioned a problem. Maybe you’ve got something else going on. Hop in the med-bed and I’ll scan you.” Removing his boots, Ash climbed into the transparent plastic tube and let Valerian close the lid over him. An immediate sense of claustrophobia crawled down his nerves. It’s too much like a de-con pod. He focused instead on the robotic tools unfolding from the capsule’s sides to probe him. Valerian watched the diagnostic screen, his voice muffled through the cover. “Your cortisol is a little elevated, probably from stress….” “That’s her fault.” Ash jerked his chin at Skye. “…but everything else looks normal. Your body must be developing tolerance for Edge. How often do you take it?”

“Just for dives.” Sliding out of the med-bed, Ash added under his breath, “Mostly.” Valerian snickered. “That's the catch. Once you've been that sharp, normal seems unbearably flat, doesn't it?” “Do you still take it?” “Once in a while, when I need to concentrate on a tough procedure. Or if I just need to feel something. As you observed, it gets boring out here.” Opening an unlabeled container, Valerian shook a few white pearls into Ash’s palm. “Is that enough?” “Should be.” Ash stuffed the pills into his chest pocket. “I’m hoping this is my last trip.” “Careful what you wish for.” Valerian stared morosely into the bottle. “Funny how every veteran tries to calculate how many dives they’ve got left, but no one actually tells you when it's your last one. You just get off the Vator one day around your sixteenth birthday, and they don't let you back on again. You never get to say goodbye.” “Good riddance, you mean,” said Ash. “The sooner we unplug from Earth, the sooner we can get to Mars.” “And live in a red terrarium instead of a grey one. I can't wait.” “Have you got a better idea?” “Yep.” Valerian popped a capsule in his mouth and grinned. He held out the bottle. Ash eyed it, hesitant. I have to plan the most important dive in the history of the GAEA program. I need whatever advantage I can get. Holding out his hand, he let Valerian dispense an extra pill and swallowed it. I’ll quit taking them once this dive is over. “Glad Rowan hasn’t spoiled all your fun with his ascetic preaching,” said Valerian as he stashed the drugs back in their hiding place.

Ash shook his head. “This isn’t for fun. I need to be sharp if I’m going to get any truth out of the Darksider.”

2

Descent

“Come on, you didn’t haul me almost four hundred thousand klicks to leave me floating my by myself.” Thunk. Drift. Spin. “Do you Colonists have a boring brig on every planet in the solar system?” Thunk. Drift. Spin. Skye pushed off the wall again, exerting just enough pressure to retrace her arc. Beneath the novelty of weightlessness, her nerves squirmed. Just because there’s no gravity doesn’t mean it’s the geosynchronous orbit station—they could have told me anything, and I can’t see to tell the difference. They could have tossed me in a shuttle alone and set an autopilot course for the Kuiper Belt. She hung in the cell’s center, stretching her limbs to their limits. The space beyond her fingertips could have been millimeters or parsecs. Ash wouldn’t really abandon me in here, would he? If the promise of a DNA bank isn’t enough…. Silence cocooned so her completely that she could almost hear her own heartbeat. The solitary cadence sent chills through her bloodstream. She spoke again, just to fill the space with cheerful noise: “Is this what swimming is like?” “Try it on Earth and see.” Skye started at the unexpected reply, inverting herself. “Who is that?” “Residue from combustion.” Ash’s voice sounded grainy through the cell’s comm channel. “We need to discuss our destination.” “I told you back on Luna—I’ll only show you.”

Pensive quiet hung in the air for several long breaths. Then the creak of metal on metal as a slid through its worn track. Something took hold of Skye’s cuffs, tugging her forward out of the cell. Her muscles tensed. Am I taking another walk through pokes and whispers? Or something worse? “Are you sure you don’t want me to get the guard?” asked a man nearby. Skye recognized the medic’s voice. “If Rowan sees you parading her around without a security detail, he’ll supernova.” “We’re floating in a tin can thirty-five thousand klicks up. Where’s she going to go?” Ash replied. Skye let him steer her through the dark, shapeless maze of the station into a warmer space that smelled of harsh disinfectants. “Is this your famous Vator?” she asked, sniffing. “The pride of old Earth, and almost as corroded.” “Don’t talk that way about your Mother. It can’t be that bad.” “You tell me.” They stopped. Fingers brushed Skye’s hair. She pulled reflexively away, but stilled when the visor shifted and fell from her vision. Her jaw dropped, abandoning words. A transparent wall curved around the entire room, opening onto star-strewn infinity. Deep in the glittering expanse hung a marbled sphere. Skye couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, couldn’t even blink—her dazzled eyes refused to miss a moment. Paddling awkwardly forward, she laid her wrists against the cold glass and cupped the planet in her hands. “Congratulations, you’re the first gawking tourist on the Vator’s observation deck in a hundred years,” said Ash, sounding faintly amused. “Rich adventurers used to pay a fortune for this view.” “It’s worth it,” Skye breathed. Continents gleamed bronze on the planet’s surface, jigsaw coastlines framing the seas beneath a cloudy veil. “Earth isn’t visible from our side of Luna. Most of the Exiles have never seen her. She’s hardly more than a myth. I’ve caught glimpses on my scavenging trips, but I never imagined she could be so beautiful.”

“It’s pretty from up here,” Ash conceded with a shrug. “The surface is another story.” “I know it’s not pristine, but at least things can live there.” “Rats. Coywolves. Carrion birds.” “There’s air.” “Full of Spores.” “And more to the landscape than just grey rocks.” “Ever heard of concrete?” “The whole planet can't be paved.” Ash laughed, the first time she'd ever heard him do so: a quiet chuckle in the base of his throat. “Clearly you’ve never been to North America.” “Maybe I will soon.” “Is that where we’re going?” “I’ll give you directions once we’re on the surface.” “We can’t just fly around indefinitely,” said Ash, a hint of impatience leaking into his tone. “Our breathing filters only last about thirty-six hours.” “You don’t carry oxygen?” “Think you can crawl through a collapsed building or outrun a predator with a tank strapped to your back?” Ash snorted. “Air and water put a time limit on every trip. We have to stay within half a day’s flight of the Vator.” “Oh, no. You can't fool me with that. I know my history,” said Skye, folding her arms. “They built the space elevator on a mobile marine platform, so all the countries in the space consortium could use it. It can move anywhere in the Pacific.”

“Not anymore. Unless your ancient Darksider wisdom includes piloting giant ocean barges or pumping fossil fuel for its engines, the Vator's not going anywhere.” Ash frowned out the window. “I wish it could. There must be thousands of species I can’t reach.” “Where is it anchored now?” “Where it’s been since Sporespread, off the western coast of North America.” “Perfect.” Skye exhaled a layer of condensation and stamped her thumb on the continent’s southwestern corner. “There’s your destination.” Tension in Ash’s shoulders eased. “Off the map, but not by much. We can do it in a day.” “Do you know the region?” “Not really. Divers don’t bother with wastelands like that. Too little biodiversity.” “They just don’t know where to look.” Skye smirked. “I do.” Ash leaned so close to the window he could have been counting her fingerprint whorls. “How did you discover this place, anyway?” “I didn’t. Geneva did.” The name summoned a ghost at the edge of Skye’s vision. She turned toward it, finding only her own dark reflection, face half in shadow like a planet turning away from its sun. “Who’s Geneva?” “The one who bore me.” “Your mother?” Skye hesitated, then nodded. “I suppose so. We always call our parents by their names, because Earth is our one Mother.” Ash shook his head, bemused. “It’s just the opposite in the Shack. No one

has biological parents—we all come out of the Repro Lab—but we use ‘mother’ and ‘father’ for the people who raise us.” “A lab?” Skye shuddered. “That’s perverse.” “Perverse would be carelessly reproducing with whoever we want. There’s only a few hundred of us. In a few generations, we’d all be our own uncles.” He shot her a critical look. Skye raised her chin. “I heard those kids whispering when I got off the shuttle. If they want to see inbreeding, they should find a mirror. I’m sure plenty of them were unregulated accidents.” “Not possible, actually. Our gametes are modified so we can’t have offspring.” “None of you?” “That’s the only way to keep our population at a sustainable level. Besides, the lab ensures maximum genetic variation. They even incorporate DNA from human remains we find on Earth, to improve diversity.” “But how can you know your heredity?” asked Skye, appalled. “We don’t. It’s irrelevant. Our lineage is human, that’s what matters.” “If you can call someone bred in a petri dish truly human.” Skye tossed her head, hair fanning across her face in microgravity. “My family descended from the original Exile, the one who first heard the Mother’s cries and rallied the others to leave the Colony. We’re the keepers of relic and record.” “You mean the data the Darksiders stole when they left.” Ash folded his arms. “That must be how your mom discovered a DNA bank we’ve never heard of.” “You could’ve had the knowledge years ago. Geneva wanted to share it with the Colony. But you murdered her.” “What?”

Skye clenched her fists, fingernails biting into her palms. “She thought the discovery would unite us and drove out to the Colony, thinking she could talk to them. She never came back.” “We thought Darksiders were extinct until you showed up!” said Ash. “If we’d sighted one, much less killed one, we’d still be talking about it.” “It’s the only logical explanation.” Skye swallowed hard, but the familiar lump refused to dissolve. “Well, it’s wrong. And even if we had done something to her, you can’t blame us for defending ourselves.” “From what? We’ve never harmed your Colony.” “Maybe not the Shack itself—you wouldn’t stand a chance.” Ash’s eyebrows lowered. “But I bet you’d ambush a surveyor far away from home. Smash in his helmet and push his rover into a ravine to make it look like an accident.” His mouth formed a thin line that reminded her of fissures in the lava tubes at home. The kind I’d pry into until it split open and revealed a labyrinth hidden behind it. “Who did that happen to?” she asked. When Ash didn’t respond, she ventured a guess. “Your father?” The jolt in his rigid pose told her she was right. His arms knitted even tighter across his chest and he looked away from her, down to the distant planet. “He was an engineer, working on the helium-3 fuel project,” he said at last. “They’d send him on prospecting expeditions to the far side—the maria are supposed to be full of the stuff.” Skye nodded. “It’s our sole energy source.” “Then it makes sense you’d kill someone who came out looking to take it.” “How do you know he found anything at all?”

“His last transmission. Chief Holly said I was too young to hear the actual recording, but Violet—Dad’s survey partner—told me about it. He said he’d found something that would change things for the Colony. A week later the recovery team brought back his body.” The oversized jumpsuit couldn’t conceal Ash’s shiver. “They never figured out exactly what happened, but….” “But whatever it was can’t possibly be as bad as all the things you’ve imagined,” Skye murmured. Forlorn brown eyes darted sideways, reflecting her own unexpected empathy. Ash stared into the astral blackness, words as soft as the mist they left on the window. “That’s what I think of every time my team goes off the map—ending up like my dad.” “Then why do you do it?” “Because I don’t want us to be stuck on Luna forever. We deserve something better.” “Like Earth?” Skye traced the ragged edge of Central America. “How is that better? It’s bare, it’s polluted, it’s—” “Home.” “How do you know? You've never been there.” Grinning, Skye arched her back and inverted so she and Ash hung face to face, feet dangling in opposite directions. “Have you ever been to Mars?” Ash glared at her. “No.” “Why not? There was an outpost built shortly before Sporespread, right?” “A temporary research station, not a real colony. It can’t sustain inhabitants long-term. And there's no space elevator, so it’s a one-way ticket. Everest won’t risk settlers until the preliminary terraforming is complete.” “How can you terraform long-distance?”

“Robots and microbe bombs.” A gleam of enthusiasm lit Ash’s face. “It’s really cool. Our scientists engineer microorganisms that can build up the atmosphere and fix nitrogen in the soil—” “More gene hacking.” Skye sniffed. “Didn’t you learn anything from Spores?” “Yes. That organisms can thrive even in harsh environments if they have the right adaptations.” “That’s called evolution. Nature perfects everything, over time.” Ash grimaced. “We don’t have time.” “That,” said Skye, “might be the first thing on which we agree.” They drifted in silence, gazing down at the mottled globe. “How long does it take to reach the surface?” Skye asked. “A week.” “That’s a long ride!” She threw him a pleading glance. “Don’t tell me I have to spend it in the stupid isolation chamber. I’m not a disease vector.” “Dissent can be contagious.” “True. Symptoms include colluding with an adversary, defying your leader, and organizing a secret mission.” Skye appraised Ash with an exaggerated sweep of her head, smirking. “Maybe you’re the one who should be in quarantine.” He ignored the jab. “The Vator doesn’t have any kind of containment facility. We’ll go ask Rowan where he wants to put you. Come on.” Filling her eyes one last time with the view, Skye reluctantly preceded Ash back along the ladder, propelling herself awkwardly with cuffed hands. Earth’s afterimage burned in her vision, shimmering just out of reach down in the dull corridor. They stopped outside a nondescript hatch. Fading Hanzi, Cyrillic, and Latin characters on the frame identified it as the

control room. Ash poked his head inside. “Hey, Rowan, where are we—” He drew back, startled. Peering around him, Skye saw a small, dark-haired girl frozen over the console in a guilty attitude. “Hazel, you’re supposed to be on the Luna shuttle,” said Ash. “I know. That’s why I’m trying to modify the rosters to say I’m already on board, but this stupid program won’t let me.” Hazel aimed a slow, weightless kick at the desk. “Let me try,” said Skye. “I’m good with electronics.” “Really? Have a look at this piece of spacewaste and see if you can—” “Hold on!” Ash threw out an arm, blocking Skye’s entry. “You can’t let a Darksider access our systems. Why are you trying to hack the shuttle log, anyway?” Hazel folded her arms. “So I can go to Earth with you.” “How do you—” “I overheard Linden bragging about it with that Spore-sucking craterbrain, Dill.” Hazel’s voice trembled with indignation. “Why would you pick them and not me?” “This isn’t a typical mission. I need veterans,” said Ash. “You’ve only been on one dive.” “And I’ve already lost a teammate. Or did you forget that I’m the only member of your real team left?” Ash’s voice turned so cold that Skye thought the walls had dissolved and let the frigid vacuum outside engulf them. “Don’t dare use Thorn as an excuse to get on this dive just because you want excitement or glory.” “He would never have let you go without one of your own to watch your back,” said Hazel stubbornly.

“Forget about me—taking a weed risks the entire team’s safety. I can’t allow that.” Amber sparks smoldered in Hazel’s eyes. “You dragged us into an uncharted sector and blew our time limits so we had to fight our way back in the dark. Don’t pretend you give a quark about safety. You just don’t think I’m good enough.” Ash’s silence answered for him. Liquid brimmed under Hazel’s lashes. Throwing a last wounded glare at him, she shoved past Skye and fled down the hall. “Well, at least I don’t have to worry about that awful recycling sentence,” Skye said brightly. “It sounds like you’re going to get me killed.” The chill evaporated from Ash’s tone, leaving it hollow. “I don’t know how to take care of a team. That’s why I never wanted to be a captain. Rowan nominated me last year, but I made him give Thorn the rank. I chased specimens and let my brother make sure everyone got home alive.” He ducked his head. “Now I get to see what he went through, following some crazy daydreamer into the wild.” “So I’m you?” Skye laughed. “Can I wear the medal?” One corner of Ash’s mouth twitched upward. “If your great genetic discovery saves the human race, I’ll pin it on you myself.” Rowan appeared at the end of the corridor, glancing over his shoulder. “Are you picking on the weeds, Ash? I just ed Hazel, and—” “It’s fine. She’s on her way to the shuttle,” said Ash tersely. “Good. The first one leaves in a few minutes.” Rowan cast a suspicious glance at Skye. “You shouldn’t have her out without a security detail.” “Might as well get used to it. The officers aren’t going to come Earthside with us,” said Ash. “Did you get some good Hunters for the job, like I told you?”

“Yes. We can go over that, but first we should figure out where we’re keeping her during descent.” “I’m not cargo. You can’t just stow me in the hold,” said Skye. She tried to plant hands on her hips, or fold her arms, but the cuffs prevented any conventionally indignant pose. She settled for glares. Rowan indicated the hatch beside the control room. “The operator’s cabin next door is free. We’ll make that the unofficial brig. The bulkheads are pretty thin, so she won’t be able to try anything without my hearing it.” “And you can listen to her talking to herself the whole way down,” Ash muttered under his breath.

⁂

Vibrations stirred Skye from a doze. Wriggling out of the sleep harness, she drifted upright and glanced around the cramped cabin. “We can’t be descending already,” she murmured. Voices hummed through the bulkhead shared with the adjacent control room. Laying an ear against the cool surface, fragments of conversation stirred the metal. “…wouldn’t even choose his own…no loyalty….” That doesn’t sound like Rowan—too young. Distortion made the voice impossible to identify. “…don’t care if he thinks I’m…GAEA…future worth having….” In the pauses, responses murmured so low Skye couldn’t discern a single word. She moved along the wall, straining for a clearer angle. “…I’ll do it.” The control room door rattled open, leaving silence behind. Skye stayed

pressed to the wall. Long minutes slid past. At last sounds rippled through —someone grumbling and tapping keys. Static burst through the overhead speakers and Rowan’s voice trickled out: “Descent in t-minus now. Hang on to something, brats. We’re taking the plunge.” Skye rapped her knuckles on the bulkhead. “Rowan, who was in the—” A rusty squeal rang through the structure and the tiny cabin shook. Skye braced herself between the narrow walls. Tremors ran through the metal and into her bones. This antique contraption finally broke—we’ll be adrift in space! She gritted her teeth. This was not part of the plan. Then the quake subsided, withdrawing to a constant shiver. No alarms sounded, no panicked voices rang in the corridor outside: the only sound was the deep groan of machinery in the Vator’s bowels. “We’re on our way to Earth.” The words tasted unreal on Skye’s tongue. And there’s no going back now. A surge of loneliness engulfed her. She shut her eyes against the threatening tears, mentally reconstructing every shade of blue she’d seen from the observation deck. She whispered beneath the Vator’s incessant pulse: “Don’t lose it now. Every minute, every meter takes you closer to the real thing.”

3

Gravity

“We’re entering the troposphere.” Rowan’s voice crackled through the broadcast system, jolting Ash awake. “All scheduled divers report to the ready room… quark me, I feel stupid saying that with only four of you on board.” Ash peeled his cheek off the tablet. Outdated maps and reports still glowed on the screen. He flicked through them for the hundredth time, a haze of colors in his bleary vision. Days of going through this stuff, and all I got was a headache and tired eyes. I need to fix that before I suit up. He dug one of the Edge pills from his pillowcase stash. Relief seeped through him as it slid down his throat. The effects should be peaking by the time we hit the continent. He slid down from the bunk, enjoying the familiar resistance of gravity, and made his way to the canteen. Frothy ocean waves seethed beyond the panoramic window. A counter ran the length of the glass, where engers had once gazed at Earth over the rims of their cocktails. Today the only three occupants had their backs to the view. Willow, Linden, and Dill huddled around one of the built-in tables, playing tiles. The staccato plinkplink-plink as they threw down pieces rang in the deserted room. “We're starting re-entry,” Ash told them as he approached. “Let’s get down to the ready room.” “After we finish the game,” said Dill, without looking up. He laid down his piece. Ash frowned. “I’d like to do it now.” “What's the big rush? It'll be at least half an hour before we're docked.” Linden propped his feet on the table and tossed down a tile. Plink. Echoes and Ash’s own fatigue amplified the noise, making him wince. “We’ve got a prisoner. I want extra time, just in case there's a problem.”

“Why would there be? There's four of us and one of her,” said Willow. She placed her token and cursed as Dill stacked his on top of it, negating her move. Resentment, brief but intense, flared in her eyes. “Might be a good time to quit anyway,” Ash murmured, watching her expression. “When the game is over.” Linden gave a smug chuckle and added another piece to the tessellation spreading across the table. Plink. The noise triggered Ash’s muscles like a reflex. His arm shot out and swept across the tabletop. Tiles slid off in a chiming rain. Dill yelped as pieces cascaded into his lap. “Game’s over,” Ash said softly. “Let’s go.” Without waiting for a reply, he left the canteen. He hid his shaking hands in his pockets. Captains shouldn’t have to do things like that. How did Thorn manage to solve every team problem with jokes and smiles? Surly footsteps followed him. No one spoke until they stopped outside the makeshift cell. Ash palmed the access pad and the door opened. “Time to go, Darksider.” Skye lay motionless on the bunk, her chest rising and falling in an erratic pattern. She didn’t respond. “Come on. I thought you couldn’t wait to see Earth,” said Ash. If she heard the slight contempt in his tone, she didn’t acknowledge it. “I can’t move,” she whispered. “What do you mean?” “Everything feels…heavy. Like something is pinning me down.” “Goddard damn it all.” Ash pressed a hand to his forehead. I thought Valerian said she was strong?

“What is it? Spores?” Panic nibbled the edges of Skye’s voice. “Gravity. You weigh eighty-three percent more here than on Luna.” She lifted her head long enough to shoot him a look of loathing, then collapsed back onto the bunk. “It shouldn’t be this bad. My body is built for gravity. I’m an Earth species!” “Not anymore,” Linden muttered from the hall. “I see you’re all standing,” said Skye, glaring around at the divers. “Does your Repro Lab engineer you with hollow bones?” “It’s just conditioning.” Willow appraised the other girl with distaste. “Months of strength training on GEO before we even go down to sea level, then living on the Vator until we adjust enough to go outside.” “How long does that take?” “Longer than we can afford to wait,” said Ash through his teeth. Our whole plan depends on her showing us the way to this DNA bank, and she can’t even stand. “If you don’t think you can make it, just give us coordinates.” Her blue eyes became ice caps. “That’s just what you want, isn’t it?” Pressing her lips hard together, Skye sat up. She raised her bound wrists slowly overhead, caught the nearest handgrip, and hauled herself to her feet. “Let’s push it over.” Dill snickered. “It’ll be even funnier with a Darksider than with the weeds.” “You’re supposed to be helping her,” said Ash, scowling. Linden took a step back, revulsion on his blunt features. “I’m not touching her.” “Good. Keep those filthy hands to yourself,” said Skye. Clenching her jaw, she took a step. Her knee buckled. Ash caught her under the shoulder. No wonder she’s struggling—even in full gravity, she hardly weighs anything.

The Darksiders must be even more strapped for food than we are. Skye neither accepted nor rejected his aid, just moved her feet stubbornly forward. “It will be a lot faster if I carry you,” Ash told her quietly. “Pick me up and the only DNA you find will be your own, in a big red puddle on the floor,” she growled. Ash nodded, secretly relieved. A wild strand of her hair brushed his neck, raising goosebumps. The last time I stood this close to her, she tried to suffocate me. He counted floor tiles on their torturous trudge down the hall, trying to ignore the Darksider’s unsettling proximity. Skye, for once, didn’t say a word. Moving her legs seemed to demand every molecule of her energy. At least I won’t have to worry about her trying to run. It felt like an hour before they reached the lift. Linden strolled up from behind, exaggerating the ease of his stride, and punched the call button. Doors yawned and Ash hauled Skye inside. She slumped against his arm as the cavernous box grumbled and clacked through the levels. When the floor jerked to a stop and the ready room opened in front of them, Ash guided her toward the nearest bench. It was already occupied. A diver in full gear sat cross-legged, decorating a mask strap spread across her knee. “What took you so long?” asked Hazel. “Get dressed already! It’s almost sunrise.”

⁂

Hazel turned wide brown eyes on Skye. “What’s wrong with you, Darksider?”

“Gravity,” said Skye. She expected the girl to talk over her head, like the others had done in the cabin, but instead she nodded sympathetically. “I had that problem until a few months ago. Arms and legs made of rock, and it feels like you’re about to crumble into a pile of gravel?” “Hazel, what are you doing here?” Ash interrupted. “You’re supposed to be —” “Back at the Shack, with all the other losers who aren’t good enough? I’ll never be good enough if I quit that easily.” “So you hid?” “Vets aren’t the only ones who know the Vator’s blind spots.” She cast a shrewd glance between Willow and Linden. Ash followed her gaze and a fine muscle twitched in his cheek. “I hope this place isn’t far,” she went on, unfazed, “because after a week curled up in a pipe, I need to get outside and stretch.” “You’re not going outside.” Ash’s voice stayed level, but Skye felt tension surge through his shoulders. “One dive isn’t enough experience to handle this mission.” “It’s more than I’ve got,” said Skye. Ash’s fingers notched into her ribs, a warning squeeze that said, You’re not helping. “The so-called captain has it right for once. We don’t want any sniveling weeds along,” said Dill. Ferocity blazed in Hazel’s pert face. “Bully me all you want, Dill, but I’m keeping my promise.” “What promise?” Ash asked. She turned sad, steady eyes on him. “You’re totally unplugged sometimes, you know that? A vulture could land on your head and all you’d think about was getting a feather. You wouldn’t last ten minutes without a good Hunter watching your back. That’s what Thorn told me, that day you ran

off after the dragonfly. He made me promise that if anything happened to him, I would look out for you.” “He’s got two good Hunters already,” said Linden. “And who cares what you promised? Thorn’s dead.” Ash rounded on him so quickly that Skye almost lost her balance. “That doesn’t negate his life.” “Hey, I’m sorry we lost him. He was a good diver, a good guy,” said Linden, holding up his palms. “But he’s gone. We don’t owe him anything.” “Speak for yourself.” Ash settled Skye on the bench and turned to Hazel. “Since you’re here, you can at least help us prep. Get the Darksider ready while we suit up.” “Sure, Captain.” “This doesn’t mean you’re coming with us,” Ash added, but Hazel had already bounded across the room to rummage through a pile of green jumpsuits. “This mission is a disaster and we’re not even on the surface,” he muttered under his breath. “Why, because you’ve managed to acquire one teammate who’s not a selfabsorbed amoeba?” said Skye, pitching her voice just loud enough to carry across the room. “I like her.” “That’s not encouraging.” Ash opened the nearest locker and began unfastening his boots. Hazel returned with equipment piled high in her arms. “I know it looks like a lot of stuff, but it’s not that complicated,” she told Skye. “Start with the suit.” She laid the garment over the bench. Strong chemical smells wafted up from its bleached green fabric. Skye looked down at her own issued clothes. “What's wrong? Too weak to undress yourself?” Dill called from where he stood examining a rack of guns with flared muzzles. Skye held up her wrists. “I know you think Darksiders have mysterious

powers, but removing a one-piece jumpsuit while handcuffed is not one of them. You’ll have to take off my restraints.” “We can’t let her loose!” said Linden. “We can’t take her outside without environmental gear, either.” Hazel waved a hand at Skye, almost pitying. “Look how pale she is compared to us. The UV would roast her inside ten minutes.” “Let’s compromise,” said Dill. He freed one of the weapons and casually checked its settings. “Take off its cuffs and if it tries anything—” He dropped the barrel and clutched the trigger. A moonquake erupted in Skye’s bones. Doubling over, she toppled off the bench. The hard floor slapped her cheek, but she barely felt it through the pain twisting her abdomen. Oh Mother, I don’t care if I die, just make it stop. Stop— “—stop it, Dill! That’s an order!” Ash’s shout sliced through the pressure hammering her ears. Agony subsided. Shaking, Skye uncurled enough to glimpse Dill’s smug expression. A small, warm hand pressed Skye’s elbow. “It's bad enough you bully us weeds, but she can't even fight back,” Hazel snapped, glaring at Dill. “What kind of coward are you?” Rage eclipsed Dill's face. He leveled his gun at Hazel. Ash caught the barrel in mid-swing. “That's the second order you disobeyed today,” he said, his voice deadly quiet. “One more and I’m leaving you behind.” “Just protecting my team, Captain,” said Dill. “Now the Darksider knows not to try anything.” He sat down in front of a locker and loosened his boots, whistling a few bars of some broken melody. If that’s how Colonists treat dissenters, it’s no wonder the Exiles fled the

Shack. “You all right?” asked Ash, glancing at her with a faint line of anxiety between his brows. She nodded and let Hazel help her back onto the bench. Dizziness still shimmered through her vision. “What was that thing?” “A Hummingbird,” said Hazel. “Sonic weapon with an adjustable emitter.” “Sound waves did that?” “They can do worse, like rupture your organs or reduce a building to rubble. We use the low settings to stun animals so we can get DNA samples, or to defend ourselves if they attack us. We’re not allowed to use them on other people,” Hazel added, raising her voice. “Darksiders aren’t people,” came Dill’s muffled reply from inside his suit. “He doesn’t think weeds like me are people, either,” Hazel muttered, just loud enough for Skye to hear. “Guess we sub-humans need to stick together. What’s your name?” “Skye. Like the island, not the atmosphere.” “Let me see your restraints, Skye.” Hazel unfastened the cuffs, then gasped when Skye slipped out of her clothes. “Halley smokes, what happened to you?” Skye appraised her own body. Angry green blossoms trailed down her arms, and a deep purple stain spread across one hip. “Your scientists.” She caught Ash’s gaze on her and stared back, defiant. “Now that they’ve stolen my DNA, who knows? Maybe I’ll turn up in your next crop of pitayas.” Ash flushed an even darker bronze and buried his head in his locker. “Our food supplies are scarce enough without making all the plants as scrawny as you,” said Hazel. “Good thing the gear is adjustable.”

Under Hazel’s direction, Skye donned a body stocking made of absorbent fabric, with a flexible reservoir that fit neatly between her shoulder blades. A thin tube poked out of the neck; when she shrugged on the heavier external suit, Hazel threaded the straw through its collar. “This fits inside your mask so you can drink your reclaimed body fluid,” she explained. When Skye wrinkled her nose, she added, “Don’t be prissy about it. This is the only water you’re going to get for twenty-four hours.” “What about food?” asked Skye hopefully. “Can’t eat with a mask on. We get nutrient shots before going out, but you’ll still come back hungry as hell. We spend most of our off-days eating and sleeping, but it’s still not really enough,” Hazel itted. Glancing at the older kids, she dropped her voice to a whisper. “Some of the vets use Edge to get by.” “Edge?” “It’s a mix of stimulants and sensory enhancers that keeps you going like a machine. I don’t know how good it is. I’ve never used it.” Hazel snapped a chestplate made of tough, light material over Skye’s suit and adjusted the straps. “Divers claim all kinds of things will help you stay alive out there, but the only thing that really works is this.” She dropped a mask into Skye’s lap. Skye turned the apparatus in her hands: a flexible plastic cup with a wide strap, attached to a small cylindrical canister by a slim hose. “This is the only thing protecting you from the spores?” Hazel nodded. “We can survive most environmental conditions for a little while, but breathe unfiltered air and you’ll get….” “Red-ringed?” Skye finished for her. All five divers in the room flinched simultaneously. “We don’t say it out loud unless it happens,” hissed Willow. “Bad luck,” Linden agreed. “Just keep your mask on and you’ll be fine,” said Hazel, clipping the

canister to Skye’s belt. “These filters are pretty durable, but don’t bang it around more than you have to. The indicator on top turns black as it runs out. Keep an eye on it. We don’t carry spares and we…we share only in emergencies.” She bit her lip. “I wouldn’t count on anyone sharing with me,” said Skye, shooting a dark glance at the others. “How much time do you get on each filter?” “Depends on how much you breathe. If you’re small and can keep your heart rate down, you can finish a full day with plenty to spare. Bigger people mean bigger lungs, and a bigger chance the filter goes bad.” “Is that why all the divers are so young?” “Yes, but it’s also our service to the Colony,” said Ash, shoving his locker closed. Skye blinked twice: he’d transformed into a new creature. It wasn’t just the sharp, athletic lines of armor. He stood straighter, and selfpossession replaced his usual air of awkwardness. “It shows us how badly we trashed one planet so we know what’s at stake with the next one.” “The next one?” Skye scoffed. “There can never be another Earth." “Thank Goddard. It's horrible.” “I don't believe you.” “You’ll see in a few minutes.” The lift door grumbled open and Rowan strode into the ready room. “Nice clear day for flying, brats, but in a few hours it’ll be hot as….” He stopped in his tracks, eyes narrowing. “Hazel, what in the galaxy are you doing here?” “Getting ready to dive,” she chirped. “I told those cheapskate resource officers we needed more surveillance cameras.” He sighed. “Where were you? Utility room? Maintenance hatch?” “Ventilation shaft for the climber mechanism.”

“A person can fit up there?” Rowan looked impressed. Hazel grinned. “A puny one.” “She stowed away, Rowan, she its it,” said Dill. “That’s against regulation.” “So is using a Hummingbird on humans.” Rowan fixed him with a stern look. “Yes, I caught that on video. You’re not as good at staying off-camera as Hazel. If this were a normal trip, I’d cancel your dive for that kind of behavior.” Dill glowered. “It’s just a Darksider.” “And we need her to find the DNA bank. She’s in bad enough shape to travel without you shooting her,” said Ash. Turning to Rowan, he asked, “Would the med-beds in the clinic do anything for gravity weakness?” Rowan shook his head. “They’re for fixing broken bones and stitching up wounds, not developing muscle tone.” “Then someone will just have to help her,” said Hazel. “Going to assign one of your Hunters that duty, Ash?” “I already told you,” said Linden, “I’m—” “Not touching me. I know. And I’m grateful,” said Skye crisply. “What about you, Willow?” The older girl swept back her hair in an imperious gesture. “I’ll be busy catag specimens.” “Guess that leaves you, Ash,” said Hazel with a mock sigh. “Unless you want an extra diver to help with the prisoner.” Ash stared at the floor for a long time. “If I let you come,” he said at last, “you won’t argue with my orders. You’ll stay within hailing distance of a veteran at all times. And when we get back, you’ll accept whatever punishment Rowan thinks you deserve for disobeying the evacuation call.

Understood?” Hazel nodded solemnly. “Guess I’ll need another prophylactic capsule,” said Rowan. He ducked through a hatch into what looked like a makeshift sickbay. Willow and Ash exchanged a dense look that Skye couldn’t decode before the other girl turned away, gesturing to the Hunters. They immediately fell in behind her, and all three left the room without another word. Ash watched them go with troubled eyes, then turned to assess Skye’s gear. “Everything fit okay?” “It’s more comfortable than the spacesuits on Luna. I can’t believe I’m about to walk on Earth.” Just speaking the words set her pulse jittering. “You’re not, really. You’re going to stand on a marine platform, then fly over Earth for a few hours—” “Don’t spoil it for her, Ash. It is kind of exciting the first time,” said Hazel, strapping a Hummingbird over her back. She helped Skye limp down the corridor after the others, with Ash bringing up the rear. The six divers lined up in front of a thick industrial door. Time had faded the trilingual sign beside it, but Skye could still make out the word airlock and the alarmingly graphic icons depicting the consequences of its misuse. Rowan slouched in carrying an injection gun like the one Pyres had used on the Shack. Skye’s body tensed at the sight of it. “What’s that for?” she asked, fighting for a casual tone. “Standard pre-dive cocktail—the nutrient serum I told you about before, plus anti-fungals to protect us from Spores,” said Hazel. “It doesn’t hurt. Much.” Rowan inspected each diver in turn, straightening armor pads and checking canisters. Approval earned each subject an injection in the side of their neck. The veterans hardly winced, just closed their collars over the spot and marched through the door. Hazel received additional scrutiny, with Rowan

checking every strap and seal. “I still don’t like sending a weed on a dive like this,” he told her. “Dive together, survive together,” Hazel recited petulantly. “I’m not going to abandon my team.” “She’s not your team,” said Rowan, with a suspicious glance at Skye. “I heard about your tantrum in the brig on Luna, Darksider. Are you going to beat me up if I give you a shot?” “Are you going to force it on me?” Skye countered. “I think we’ve already wasted enough resources on you.” “Then you keep the shot—” It’s probably full of impure engineered substances, anyway. “—and I’ll keep the peace.” A glint that might have been respect flickered in Rowan’s tired eyes. “I don’t trust you, kid, but I hope you’re right about this mission.” Me too. She and Hazel ed the others in the airlock. “Mask up,” said Ash. Everyone pulled on their breathing gear. Each diver had a private ritual about fitting their mask and adjusting the bands. Unique patterns of stars and foliage marked each strap: a crown of flowers adorned Willow’s dark hair; dense rows of x marks made Linden’s band almost black; Dill wore a simple motto, Quark Earth, in bold, jagged letters. Only Ash’s gear remained undecorated. “Do the drawings mean something?” Skye asked Hazel. “Usually brag tallies—how many dives you’ve done, how many species you’ve collected, that sort of thing. I’ve got one leaf for dive, see?” Hazel turned to display her own strap. A freshly inked vine wrapped around the back of her head, with a cluster of thorns flanking its single serrated leaf. “What about the thorns?”

Hazel shrugged and tapped Skye’s mask. “Make sure you get a good fit. You don’t want to fiddle with it once you’re outside.” Pressing the cup over her mouth and nose, Skye tightened the strap around her skull. “It’s not very comfortable,” she said, the words sounding nasal. “Neither is dying of Spore infection.” Hazel shuddered. “Fevers, skin sores, coughing up blood—” She broke off in a yelp when Willow jabbed her shoulder. “I told you to shut up about it, weed!” she snapped. Hazel rubbed her arm, glaring. “Everyone ready?” Rowan called. He stood at the door, gazing at the group. “I can’t believe this might be the last team I ever send out.” “Don’t get sentimental on us now,” said Ash, with a faint twist of a smile. “Brat,” said Rowan fondly. “Good luck.” He pressed his hand to the control pad and the door lumbered shut. No one spoke. Machinery ticked and hummed. Skye’s heart threatened to shatter her ribcage. You’ve been in airlocks a thousand times. No big deal. Light sliced across their feet as the outer door rose. Hot air rushed in, replacing the sterile atmosphere. Goosebumps, then sweat, prickled Skye’s skin. Taking a deep breath of filtered air, she turned toward the blinding sun.

⁂

Rowan’s right: it’s going to be a hot one. The sun had barely cleared the horizon, but heat already shimmered up from the deck. Particulates thickened the air—Ash could almost feel it parting around him as he stepped out of the airlock. Currents sloshed

against the hull, emitting a faint petroleum odor that even his filter couldn’t completely erase. “Is that all water?” Skye clutched Ash’s elbow. “Mother’s molten mantle, I didn’t know there could be so much of it! How could people have fought wars over not having enough? And the sky…I thought it was blue?” She reached out as if she could wipe away the pink clouds and reveal a truer color beneath. Dawn cast tangerine light on her face, warming her pale features. Ash watched her expression shift between awe and delight. Kind of sad that she’s my age and has never seen anything except black space and grey moon. Maybe that’s why Rowan stays on GEO instead of taking a better job on the Shack, and why grounded divers keep getting high on Edge— after this, they can't bear life in a monochrome box. In spite of the heat, he shivered. “How deep is it? Where does it stop? Can I touch it?” Skye peered over the platform’s edge and squealed at the lapping foam. “You’ll get a better view on the quad ride,” Hazel told her. “Come on.” They made a comic pair: the small, stocky girl ing her tall, thin companion. Footsteps halted beside Ash. “Two hundred and ninety-seven,” said Willow, staring east. “What’s that?” Ash turned to her. “How many times I’ve watched this sunrise. This trip will be the two hundred and ninety-seventh leaf on my tree.” She fingered the delicate pattern on her mask strap. “Couldn’t you have held off a few weeks on this heroic final mission? I’d have liked to make the three-hundred-dives club. That's really elite.” The mask warped her laugh so Ash couldn’t tell if it was mirthful or bitter. “You're already a top diver, Willow. You deserve to spend a long life bragging about it." “On Mars?”

“I hope so.” She smiled. Damp ocean breeze caressed their cheeks and foreheads, the only exposed skin on their bodies. “I only kissed him once, you know,” she said after a minute. “Linden.” “I didn’t ask,” said Ash through the sudden tightness in his jaw. “You didn’t have to. But it wasn’t a big deal. Everyone’s done it.” “What, kissed Linden?” “No!” Willow giggled. “Ducked into one of those blind spots and kissed somebody, just to make sure that after all the time living in a box, we can still feel something.” She hesitated, then took his hand. Ash caught his breath. Warmth seeped through her glove into his. Veins fluttered in her palm. Swallowing hard, he forced the anxious words from his throat. “Willow, I don’t know what will happen when we get back, but—” A shrill echo from across the platform turned both their heads. The boys stood glowering at Hazel, who glared fearlessly up at them with her fists on her hips. “You shouldn’t have brought her,” murmured Willow. “She’s got a bad attitude.” “Yeah, I wish she were more like Linden and Dill. So friendly and obedient.” Her hand released his, falling to her side. “So they’re confident. Why shouldn’t they be? They’re good divers. That’s why I recommended them.” “Is it?” Willow's expression hardened. “If you don’t trust them, Ash, at least trust me,” she snapped, and set off across the deck before Ash could reply. He hurried after her, cursing himself. I finally have a decent minute with her and I ruin it. Why can’t Edge sharpen

social skills, too? “What’s the problem?” he called to the bickering Hunters. “They don’t want to be in the second quad,” said Hazel. “They don’t think you’ll torture Skye enough to get good directions.” Linden folded his arms. “That’s not what I said.” “No, but it’s what you meant. You don’t want to follow your captain.” Maybe it’s a good thing I let her come along. At least it gives me one loyal team member. “The quads only take three engers,” said Ash. “Since neither of you wanted to help the Darksider, she’s Hazel’s responsibility, so they ride together.” “And I agreed to tell Ash the location, not the rest of you,” said Skye. “So you’ll just have to go where we lead.” Linden and Dill exchanged mutinous looks, but Willow silenced them with a glance. “I’ll pilot the second quad,” she said. “Thanks,” said Ash, relieved. “Sync its navigation to mirror ours, but stay in visual range just in case.” Willow nodded and led her deflated teammates to the waiting vehicle. Hazel rounded on Ash, her mouth thin under her mask. “You need to control those two.” “How? I understand plants and bugs, not people.” He glared at his boots to hide the sudden sting in his eyes. “Leadership was Thorn’s specialty, not mine.” “You’re twins. You share DNA.” Hazel gave him a critical look as she hauled open the hatch. “Find your captain genes and turn them on, or this trip will be even worse than our last one.”

Thorn’s face—his easy smile, his casual sense of command—flickered in Ash’s mind, so vivid he could almost feel his twin’s presence. Instinctively he glanced back, but saw only the row of empty de-con pods. My brain knows you’re gone, Thorn, so why does the rest of me feel like you’re still there? Am I going to be looking over my shoulder the rest of my life? Shuddering, he hopped into the quad. The vehicle’s round cabin barely fit three seats around a central hub. Hazel and Skye were already strapped in, their shoulders forming two sides of a triangle. We have to ride with our backs to the prisoner. Great. But Skye seemed utterly absorbed in the landscape. She leaned forward in her flight harness to stare out the window, restrained hands twitching in her lap. “I’ll need those coordinates,” Ash told her, settling into the pilot’s seat. “So you can throw me out on the platform and fly away? I don’t think so.” She gave him a silky smile. “We’re going point to point.” Ash sighed and entered the numbers she repeated on the nav screen. An automated course appeared on the map, and he touched the flashing Initiate button. Four rotors hummed awake, making the whole cabin tremble, and the quad rose in a smooth vertical ascent. The ocean receded to a grey film, and the white ghost of Luna faded into the dawn behind them. Time slipped past with the distance. When water turned to burnt ground beneath them, Skye broke the silence. “What’s that?” Ruins sprawled along the coast, tall buildings poking up from the sand like the bleached bones of a carcass buried and forgotten. “Los Angeles,” said Ash. “That was a colony—I mean, a city?” She pressed her nose to the porthole. “It’s huge! It wouldn’t even fit in the South Pole-Aitken basin!” Ash smiled. “I’d show you New York, but we’d have to swim.”

The quad skirted the crumbling metropolis and continued northeast. Skye updated their course every hundred kilometers, leaving Ash reluctantly impressed at her faculty for memorization. At every change he checked that the second quad still trailed them at a visible distance. Urban sprawl melted into a vast desert. “At least we won’t have to cross any more lakes,” said Hazel, donning her goggles against the rising sun. “It’s just a wasteland. Why would anyone put a secret DNA bank out here?” “It’s a perfect place,” Ash murmured. Dry, rugged land stretched in every direction. I bet no one ever came out here, even before Sporespread. An underground facility could go undisturbed for decades. A century, even. The tendril of hope in his chest grew stronger. “We’re close,” said Skye. “Ready for the last set of coordinates? Thirty-five….” Ash’s finger trembled when he tapped out the last digits. “All right. We should arrive in—” A shattering crunch drowned out his words. The quad lurched violently forward. Ash’s safety harness bit into his shoulders. A dark form wheeled past the window and disappeared. “What hit us?” Hazel yelped, seizing the edges of her seat. The instrument pulsed scarlet. “I don’t know, but we lost a rotor,” said Ash. A horrible grinding sound rose from the remaining turbines as they fought to stay aloft. The quad plummeted a nauseous few meters, struggled to right itself, and dropped again. “Brace for impact!” The others hunched forward while Ash punched helplessly at the controls, trying to avert disaster at the last moment. Fragments rushed through his mind: his mother’s smile at the award ceremony; Thorn’s face in the pod; the curve of Willow’s fingers slipping through his; a tiny flowering weed in the palm of his glove. Hazel screamed a torrent of high-pitched profanities in counterpoint to the grinding rotors. Skye, impossibly, was laughing.

I was right about one thing—this is my last dive. Gravity pulled them down into its inevitable embrace.

4

Crash

Ash woke with his eyelids on fire. At least it felt that way. They burned molten orange, and when he opened them the high sun skewered his pupils. He turned his head. Grains of sand tumbled away from the movement, dissolving into rocky ground and spreading away toward jagged horizon. Mars? Mars doesn’t have Joshua trees. The dive. The quad. The crash. He sat up in panic, pain splintering through his head and spine, and checked his filter. Its indicator shone fresh emerald with a yellow tinge at its borders. The mask maintained its vacuum seal on his mouth and nose. Get a grip, Ash. Conserve air. Breathe slowly. He exhaled and forced his lungs back into a steady rhythm. Oxygen brought clarity. Pulling on his goggles, he staggered to his feet. The world lurched around him—he clung to the searing face of a boulder until the landscape stopped spinning. A hundred meters away, two piles of tangled metal smoked in the sand. Both quads crashed? Then the whole team…. Fear leached a bitter taste into his mouth as he stumbled toward the wreckage. Shards of glass and carbon crunched underfoot. A pair of boots protruded from the broken hatch, attached to a slim form. Heart in his throat, Ash touched an ankle. “Willow?” Light glinted off a spanner, raised over her face like a weapon. “Hey, it’s me!” said Ash, startled. She lowered the tool and stared up at him with reproachful eyes. Blue eyes. Ash stepped quickly back. “What are you doing?”

“Fixing your quad,” said Skye, as if it were obvious. “Quads, actually. They crashed into each other.” Gazing around at the refuse, Ash’s dizzy mind counted eight rotors, or pieces of them. “It looks like we flew through an asteroid belt, doesn’t it?” said a voice overhead, and Hazel dropped down from the quad’s roof. Cuts speckled her face, and she held her right hand gingerly against her chest. “Willow said her quad malfunctioned when she switched to manual piloting. It sped up and slammed right into us. We all went down like a heavy metal meteorite.” “Your side took most of the impact,” Skye told Ash cheerfully. She resumed her repairs, humming to herself. We almost died and she’s having the time of her life. Ash rubbed at the ache between his eyes. How is she not bothered by any of this? Unless…. “You okay?” Hazel appraised Ash as if he were part of the damaged craft. “We moved you into the shade when we couldn’t wake you, but you still look lousy. Take one of the painkillers in your medkit.” “I’m fine,” Ash lied, trying to push his throbbing bones to the back of his consciousness. “Where are the others?” “Looking for Dill.” Hazel’s voice and expression fell flat. “Crater-brain must not have worn his safety harness—went right through the windshield.” That shape flying past when we went down…. Ash shuddered. “There’s no way he survived a fall from that altitude.” “I know. But the other two didn’t want to hear that, especially from a weed.” Hazel spat the last word. “So they left you here alone—” “No,” Skye interjected. “—with a prisoner. And she got out of her restraints!”

“No, I took them off her. I can’t fix this quarking pile of bolts with one hand.” Hazel indicated her arm and winced. “Turns out she’s pretty good with a ratchet.” “I bet she got lots of practice thieving parts from the Shack,” Ash muttered, and Skye grinned confirmation. He glanced around at the debris. The vehicle’s cabin bore a deep crater in its side from the collision, and bent rotors sprouted from its back. “You’ll never reassemble this mess. Salvage the comm unit and we’ll signal Rowan for new rides to take us back.” Hazel shook her head. “Everything’s dead. The turbines’ electromagnetic generators must’ve surged during the crash and fried all the electronics, even our emergency beacons.” “We’ve still got our tags,” said Ash, clenching his right hand until he could almost feel the microchip in his palm. “I know we’re off the map, but if we can get back in range of the Vator’s scans….” “Even if we managed to walk that far before our filters die, the surge might’ve ruined our chips, too. We’d never know until it was too late.” Hazel patted the broken hovercraft’s hull. “Getting these birds flying again is our best shot, and I could fix them a lot faster with more help. Go get the others. They wouldn’t listen to me, but you’re the captain.” The captain who almost got us all killed before we even reached our dive site. Shaking off the thought, Ash dropped his voice to a whisper. “I’m not leaving you here with a Darksider.” “I’ve been alone with her for more than an hour while you were unconscious. She’s all right.” “We can’t trust her.” “I trust that she doesn’t want to die,” Hazel snapped. “Neither do I. So bring those idiots back here before we all become vulture snacks.” Ash sighed. “Which way did they go?” “They followed the crash wake.” She pointed at a fresh scar in the earth where the quads had skidded to rest.

“Okay. Keep working on the quads. I’ll be back soon.” Quivering heat smudged the border between sand and sky. The sun’s rays felt like ultraviolet missiles hammering Ash’s shoulders. Within ten minutes sweat poured in rivulets down his neck, despite the conduction-cooling suit. He sipped at the hydration tube, steadying himself with the familiar tepid taste of reclaimed water. When a small outcrop of rocks appeared, he assumed it was a mirage until his Edge-sharpened eyes picked out a green figure. That’s a weirdly shaped cactus. Maybe I should grab a sample while I’m here. But as he drew nearer, it solidified into a figure kneeling beside a pile of stones. “Willow?” he called. She turned at her name, and Ash jogged the last few meters. “Are you all right?” She nodded, but the stone in her hand shook. “This wasn’t supposed to happen,” she said in a horrified whisper. “What went wrong with the quad?” “I don’t know. The last course shift must’ve caused a malfunction. Our quad accelerated before I could switch to manual, and Dill wasn’t wearing his harness, so he went through the window and….” She glanced at the mound beside her. Steeling himself, Ash lifted the largest rock. Bloody fragments of Dill stared up from a scrape in the sand. Even he didn’t deserve this. “We don’t have the tools to dig a grave or start a fire. This is the best we can do for him.” Willow swiped her sleeve angrily over her eyes. “It’s my fault.” “Don’t think like that. Those quads are old and busted, like all the other equipment in the Shack.” “So if it’s anyone’s fault, it’s Ash’s for dragging us out to this wasteland.” Linden marched up and dropped an armload of rocks. The clatter widened the fissure of pain in Ash’s head. “At least Dill won’t have to suffocate or die

of dehydration while the Colony hero chases a new record. Do you have to get all of us killed? Wasn’t it enough you let your brother die?” Ash leapt up and Linden’s fist caught him under the chin. Stars popped in his vision. He lunged, but Linden threw him aside with an uppercut to the stomach, crushing the breath from his body. “Stop it!” Willow shouted, shoving them apart. “That’s not going to bring back Dill. Or Thorn,” she added, with a hard glance at Ash. He uncurled himself, sucking air. Fury tautened every line of Linden’s body, but his face looked like a child’s on the verge of a crying fit. We’ll never get out of here alive if we keep fighting each other. “I know how it feels to lose someone down here, Linden,” said Ash. The words took effort, and not only because he’d been winded. “Makes you want to redirect the nearest asteroid and let it shatter this planet to dust. But I’m not going to let it have us that easily. Hazel thinks she can get the quads working again. We could still get out of here, if we can keep it together.” “So we’ll finish taking care of Dill, then go back. All right?” Willow touched Linden’s elbow. He yanked away from her. Beads of sweat mingled with tears and coursed along the contours of his mask. Silently, he resumed building the mound. Dill’s arm still stuck out of the rocks—Ash began to cover it, then paused as an idea struck him. He peeled the glove awkwardly off the corpse’s fingers. Sorry, Dill, but this might be our ticket home. Pulling the knife from his belt, Ash sliced into the pad of flesh beneath the dead boy’s thumb. Blood oozed from the incision, obscuring his view. He probed with the blade tip. “What are you doing? Can’t you let him die with some dignity?” snarled Linden. He swiped at Ash just as the microchip slipped free. “Hazel says an electromagnetic surge burned out all our computers, maybe even our tags,” Ash explained, wiping the chip clean. It left a smear of red on his suit leg. “But since Dill fell out of the quad before the crash, his

should still work. If we get back in scanning range, Rowan might pick up the location and send help.” He braced himself for a second attack, but Linden just gave a grim nod. Without speaking, the three of them finished the makeshift cairn and poured sand into the interstices. “How many more of those will we build down here?” Willow murmured as they trudged back over the scalding ground. Not more than five—the last one left won’t have anyone to bury them. Ash’s spirits sunk deeper into his boots with every step. The sight of the quad’s running lights stirred his hopes. “Did you get it running?” he called. “We restored power at about half capacity,” Skye replied. She sat in the sand, sorting chunks of metal. Sun had seared her face pink, highlighting a dark smear of grease across her cheek. “But it might be enough to get us off the ground.” “Three of us, anyway,” Hazel added from atop the rotors. Her words fell in rhythm with her tool strokes as she cranked down a fixture with her good hand. “Some of the parts…are completely mangled. If we’re creative…there might be enough…to piece together…one functional quad.” “What about this?” Ash handed the microchip up to Hazel. If she noticed the flakes of dried blood clinging to it, she didn’t comment. “Dill’s?” Ash nodded. “Do you think it still works?” “I can’t tell from looking at it. I’d have to wire it up to diagnostics. Not sure I even know how—I do machinery, not computers.” “I know how,” called Skye. “I told you, I’m good with electronics.” Willow gave her a contemptuous look. “I thought all the comms were shot.”

“They are. We’ll have to use someone else’s comms,” said Skye. Ash stared at her. She must have sunstroke. I thought she was crazy before, but after a few hours baking in ultraviolet— “I had to study a lot of old Earth maps to pinpoint the DNA bank’s location,” Skye explained, meeting each skeptical gaze in turn. “I practically memorized the area, and there’s an old deep space communications complex only a few kilometers from here. They must have radio dishes, maybe whole bunkers full of equipment. If that microchip still works, I could wire it up to the dish and amplify its signal to reach the Vator.” “Liar,” said Willow. “I think she’s right, actually,” said Ash, cringing inwardly when Willow glared at him. “I read something about a complex like that in the data archives when I was planning the dive.” “Well, even if it’s true, any equipment it has will be dust by now.” Willow folded her arms. “How long until you can fix the quads, weed?” Hazel spun another bolt into place. “Another few hours, at least. And when it flies—if it flies—it’ll be a slow ride home.” An emergency signal could get us rescued by sundown. And if it doesn’t…. Ash looked from the nervous faces of his teammates to the blistering landscape beyond. “Are you sure you can find this place?” he asked Skye. She nodded. “Haven’t we taken enough directions from her?” said Linden, scowling. “We followed her out here and look what happened. This is all her fault.” “No. It’s mine,” said Ash. “You were right, Linden. I brought us on this mission, and it’s my responsibility to get us out again.” He took Skye’s elbow and hauled her upright. “You three work on repairing the quad. If we’re not back before dark and you’re ready to fly, go without us.” “But—” Hazel began.

“That’s an order.” Ash cast a last, quick glance at Willow. Unreadable emotions shifted on her face like patterns in the blowing sand. After a moment, she reached into the wreckage and tossed him a Hummingbird. He nodded thanks. With the weapon on one shoulder and the Darksider on the other, he set off into the desert.

5

Ghosts

“There.” Skye pointed toward bleached letters set into the hillside: GO_DS_ONE. Ash played aloud with the missing characters. “God’s one? Good someone?” “Goldstone,” said Skye, speaking the word like an incantation. She cast an impatient look at Ash. “You thought I was lying about it, didn’t you? Why did you come?” He frowned across the arid landscape, weighing his words. “Hazel said we could only salvage one quad, and they only take three engers. If you and I disappear in the desert, there won’t be any question about who gets to go home.” “Again with the martyrdom.” Skye rolled her eyes. “That medal really tangled your brain, didn’t it? I hope you’re not disappointed that this place exists and we can call for help.” “If the equipment still has power.” “You’re never happy about anything, are you?” “If what’s left of the team gets home alive, I’ll make an exception.” A cluster of low, sun-blasted buildings huddled under the late afternoon sun. Beyond them a radio dish bloomed like a massive gypsum flower. Ash primed the Hummingbird, ready to target any hostile creatures lurking nearby, but nothing stirred except a hot wind prowling between the bunkers. Strange to think this used to be where Earth spoke to Luna. Dilapidated sprigs of chain-link poked through the sand near the dish. They picked over the wires and reached the curve of shade around the antenna’s

base. A rusty ladder connected to stairs and platforms, spiraling all the way up to the parabolic surface. “We’ll need to access the control s,” said Skye. Ash squinted up at the rickety structure. “Do you think it’ll hold us after a century of sun and sand and no maintenance?” The Darksider gave a nervous laugh. “At least if it collapses, we won’t have to climb back down.” Wincing, she gripped the first rung and began to climb. Foot up, push; hand up, pull; an excruciating cadence of labored movement. Ash waited a few rungs behind, braced to catch her if her strength gave out. The Hummingbird dangled awkwardly from his shoulder, making him feel off-balance. I’m a Gatherer—why am I even trying to use this thing? Shrugging off the strap, he let the weapon drop a few meters into the sand. The ascent felt longer than a trip in the Vator, but at last they reached the top platform. The ground looked much farther away than Ash had expected. His toes tingled unpleasantly. “What now?” he asked, eager to get down again. “I need to look at the diagnostics,” Skye panted. Glad for an excuse to avoid the edge, Ash found the she indicated. He pried out corroded bolts with his dive knife and lifted off the metal sheet. An array of tiny lights winked behind it. Relief seeped through him. “I think it’s got power!” Pulling Skye to her feet, he ed her while she pored over the display. Wind tossed pale strands of hair across her face like lines of static while she fingered the gauges and dials. “It is functional,” she whispered. “And transmitting on the right frequency!” “The same one our tags use? Does that mean you can boost the signal?” “The signal,” she breathed. “Yes, the signal,” said Ash impatiently. “The signal that will get us home.”

Skye turned to him, blue eyes blazing. “We are home,” she said, and her body uncoiled like a spring, driving an elbow between his ribs. Ash staggered backward. The safety rail caught him. For a nauseous moment his head lolled over the drop, inverting sand and sky. What just happened? He recovered in time to see Skye vault down the stairs she’d ascended at a crawl just minutes before. She doesn’t have a problem with gravity at all! She just pretended to be weak and slow until we let down our guard. And I fell for it. Anger shot new energy into Ash’s limbs. Flipping his knife to a weapon grip, he leapt from the platform and tackled Skye on the landing. She let out a wordless animal cry. Muscles surged beneath her suit. She’s not going to outfight me again. Ash threw his weight forward and slammed them both to the floor. The structure quivered under the impact. Before Skye could attack again, he pressed his knife against her neck. “Give me one reason,” he said softly, his face so close to hers that their masks almost touched. A tug of his hair answered him; Skye had snaked an arm around his neck and hooked her fingers through his mask strap. One sweep of her arm would remove the flimsy barrier between his lungs and the Spores. “Is this sufficient?” she asked. “There aren’t any security officers coming to save you this time.” “You really are a cheater,” Ash growled. “But I didn’t think you’d find a way to cheat gravity. How’d you do it?” “The same way you did. Getting stronger.” “There’s no way you achieved that level of conditioning during a week in the Vator. It takes months to….” He trailed off, cold realization dripping through his consciousness. “You planned it. The capture, the dive…you orchestrated the whole thing.”

“Of course.” A wild smirk curled up at him. “But I had help.” “From who?” “You!” She drew out the word in three chuckling syllables. “Because I spotted you at the crater?” Ash swallowed against a sudden wave of nausea. “I got you into the Shack, didn’t I?” “The shack, the GEO station, the Vator.” The chrome laugh glittered from her throat. “You were so vulnerable, Ash, so willing to believe anything that would give you some hope. I told you what you wanted to hear, and you reacted exactly the way I expected.” The air in Ash’s chest disappeared, leaving a vacuum of dread. “There never was any DNA bank, was there?” he whispered. “You lied to me.” “I didn’t lie,” Skye snapped. “I shared pieces of truth and declined to correct you when you assumed a lot of nonsense to fill in the rest.” “But you said—” “I said there was a trove of DNA hidden here. And there is. One more remarkable than any desiccated old samples.” Her eyes shone like Earth waxing over Shackleton Crater, bright blue irises orbiting black pupils. “This can still be the mission you dreamed of, Ash. Let me go and I’ll show you.” “I fell for that once already.” “Then cut my throat. I won’t suffer long. Not like you, once you take a sip of those Spores.” She jostled his mask strap for emphasis. Ash pressed the knife closer, dimpling her pale skin. The strong beat of her artery kissed the blade. “You’re a….” Epithets piled up on his tongue, none strong enough to describe her. “What? A monster? Inbred gene scum? I’d love to hear a new one, because I’ve been called all the others before.”

“A traitor.” Color rushed into her sunburned cheeks. “You’re right. I fled the sanctuary. I conspired with the Colony. I finally became what everyone accused me of being.” The bantering tone vanished and her teeth flashed in an anguished snarl. “I betrayed my people to save them.” “Save them from what?” “Their own stubborn stupidity. We’ve lived like worms for three generations, waiting for Madurai to tell us it’s time to end the exile. She claims she’s the only one who can hear the Mother speak, but she won’t listen!” Skye stared past Ash’s shoulder at the dish looming above them. “There’s a signal coming from this complex, and if it’s what I think it is, it could change everything.” He said he’d found something…something that would change everything. Violet’s words, recounting his father’s last transmission, echoed in Ash’s head. Tiny tremors ran through his hand from clutching the knife. Sighing, he lowered it. “Explain.” Skye relinquished his mask and they scrambled back from one another, crouching a meter apart on the platform. “Geneva started it. She had a different idea about listening to the Mother—intercepting communications from GEO to learn about the planet from people who actually visited it.” “Signals from Earth don’t reach Luna’s far side,” said Ash. “She made a lot of expeditions to the south pole, and took me with her. While we were supposed to be gathering parts from the Colony, we camped out and scanned for signals. That’s how I learned about telemetry.” “From spying on us.” Skye snorted dismissively. “Your tedious shuttle logs and repair updates couldn’t have held our interest for long. We detected activity on a different frequency than the ones you used. A signal coming from Earth.”

“So? Planets give off natural radio emissions.” “Yes, but not organized data in regular intervals. This was deliberate. Intelligent.” “What was it?” “Biometric data. From humans. A hundred years after Sporespread, someone survived and used those signatures to announce their presence. We traced it here, but then Geneva disappeared, and Madurai forbade me to speak about it ever again. She said it was a madwoman’s selfish dream. I almost believed her until I scavenged some radio equipment from the Shack a few months ago. The signal was still there, and this time I was old enough to do something about it. I came to answer the call.” Skye was trembling, though with anticipation or rage, Ash couldn’t tell. “People alive on Earth, Ash! Right here! Do you know what that means?” “I think I do.” Digging into a pocket of his suit, he held up Dill’s tag. “Every Colonist has one of these implanted at birth. It identifies us in Colony systems, collects biometrics, even transmits our location at short range in case we wander too far from the Shack. Goldstone’s dish probably sucked in bits of data from divers on the west coast and spat it back out into space.” Skye plucked the microchip from Ash’s hand and examined it. “You think my signal was just from these?” “Yep. Just ghosts.” Disappointment weighed heavy on Ash’s limbs. He stood with a groan and looked west. The sun drooped from its zenith as if wilting in its own heat. Ragged hills beckoned in the distance. I could just keep walking. Find a place to curl up and die. The others will go back and tell Rowan that the Darksider killed me. Maybe I won’t have to be ed as a traitor, just another unhinged diver who tried too hard. The mental mirages shimmered and dissolved. No. You have to get your team home safely and not let them take the blame for your crater-brained idea. Ash turned back to Skye. “If you really can rig a beacon with that chip—”

He was talking to an empty platform. Skye was gone. He lunged for the rail and saw her swing off the ladder onto the ground. She’s still got the microchip! He clambered down from the scaffold as fast as he dared. The Darksider was just a flicker in the heat haze. Clutching his knife, he ran after her.

⁂

Lactic acid scorched Skye’s legs, but still she drove them faster, heart pounding with every step. Heat seemed heavier than gravity, pressing her down. She risked a glance over her shoulder. Goldstone was receding into the desert, its radio dishes shrinking like her hopes for the planet. He’s wrong. He has to be wrong. That signal was too strong and too complete to be echoes. I can’t have come all this way and exposed the Exiles’ presence for telemetric ghosts! I won’t— Ground fell away from her feet. Jerking forward under her own momentum, she tumbled downhill. Rocks punched her. Sand turned hard and unforgiving. She slammed to a stop on her back, breathless beneath a smothering expanse of blue. There’s the color I expected. At least one thing on Earth is the way it’s supposed to be. Hissing in pain, Skye sat up and assessed her position. She’d tumbled into a shallow ravine. Small dunes littered the dry wash, casting long afternoon shadows. One of the shady patches stirred. She froze, fear accelerating her blood. What is that, some kind of animal? It’s almost as big as I am. If only I’d grabbed Ash’s sonic gun before I ran! Without taking her eyes from the spot, she felt around for a sharp rock or

stick. “I see you,” she called, hoping her voice would scare it off. “Go away and I won’t have to hurt you.” The creature unfolded itself and crept around the hummock. Sunlight peeled back the shadows, revealing a human form with a familiar face. Skye’s anxiety dissolved into relief and annoyance. “How did you get ahead of me, Ash?” she challenged him. He remained silent, staring at her. Damn taciturn boy—why did I pick a conspirator who can barely even communicate? “You must’ve had a good laugh, watching me slide down here on my…what happened to your mask?” Ash’s mouth and nose were uncovered, yet he breathed with apparent unconcern. Skye looked for the filter at his belt and realized he’d changed his entire outfit. Instead of the armored dive suit, he wore a loose tan garment that rendered him almost invisible against the sand. Wiping the grime from her goggles, she studied him. Something was different, something was wrong…. “Darksider!” A wrathful call echoed through the wash. Twisting around, Skye saw a figure silhouetted on the ravine’s rim. “Ash?” she replied, baffled. “But….” She turned back to the boulder. The strange, shadowy Ash was gone. She crossed to the place where he’d stood. Two dents in the ground might have been footprints, or just the natural concavities of sand. Stones clattered on the slope and Ash skidded to a halt at the bottom. He strode over to her, knife extended. “How did you get up there?” Skye demanded. “You were standing right here a second ago.” Light splintered along the blade in his hand. “No more games.” “If this is a game, you’re winning. I thought I’d outrun you, but you were waiting down here. With your mask off!”

“You must have been hallucinating. Dehydration and heatstroke can make you see things.” “No. You cast a shadow. Hallucinations don’t do that.” “I’ve had enough lies from you.” “I’m not lying,” said Skye, clenching her fists. “You were right behind that dune!” Ash glanced to where she pointed and slowly lowered his weapon. “That’s not a dune.” He reached it in two strides and began digging. Sand flew in waves, revealing a large plastic capsule. “I saw those on the Vator deck!” Skye exclaimed. “That’s….” “A decontamination pod,” said Ash, his voice shaking. “How did one of them end up all the way out here?” “Not just one.” Dozens of sandy mounds littered the ravine. Ash counted them under his breath and cursed. “There’s a pod for every red-ringed diver in the last decade, maybe more.” Each of them excavated another dune, revealing two more capsules. Skye peered into the bare, dusty tube. “They’re all empty.” “Goddard-damned scavengers must’ve carried off all the remains.” “Are you sure? There’s not so much as a bone left.” “Well, the occupants didn't climb out and walk away. Infected divers die in the pods. Trust me, I watched it happen.” Ash sank onto one of the mounds. “I thought they just disposed of the bodies and sterilized the pods. The Colony can't afford to waste resources—why would they jettison all this equipment and leave it to rot?” “This one looks practically new.” Skye strode to the edge of the wash, where a pod stuck upright like an ancient monolith. She moved around to its front

and yelped. “Ash, there’s someone—” A blurry form lurched out of the door, knocking Skye to the ground. Through a sandy wake, she saw the shadow figure dashing away. “Ash!” she yelled, her voice muffled in her mask. “It’s you—him—look!” The ghost scrambled up the far side of the ravine. It glanced back for an instant and Ash’s voice cried out louder than Skye had ever heard it: “Thorn!” Sprinting past her, Ash launched himself up the incline as the silent figure disappeared over the rim. “Thorn, it’s me!” He climbed with frantic energy and Skye clambered after him. Gravel slid under her boots, dragging her back a step for every three she took. “You told me your brother died!” she called up to Ash. “He did,” he shouted back, emotion fraying his words. “In a de-con pod.” They reached the top and took off running. Razor-leafed desert plants sliced at Skye’s shins. Every breath became a fiery struggle, her lungs starving for more oxygen than the filter could provide. Thorn—or whoever it was—was already a smudge in the shadows. He led them through a rocky gulch and staggered uphill, framed for a moment against the purpling sky. “Thorn, wait up!” Ash croaked. His cry rang off the rocks and an echo shimmered back: not his own distorted voice, or any human voice at all, but a keening howl that slid down octaves and raised the hairs on Skye’s neck. “What is that?” she gasped. “Coywolves!” Ash stopped in his tracks. As if summoned, a pair of tawny animals appeared atop the ridge where Thorn had stood a moment before. Their tapered heads turned toward Ash and Skye, ears pricking forward. Sunset cast orange stains on their fangs. Ash reached around his back and swore. “I forgot the Goddard-damned Hummingbird.” He pulled out his knife instead, determination hardening his face. “If there’s any honor in you, Darksider, go back to the dish and set

up that beacon to get the others home. I think I can buy you enough time to escape if I—” A whistle pierced the canyon. The coywolves launched themselves forward, hauling a strange form over the ridge behind them. Skye gaped as a small, rough-looking sled materialized. A cowled figure stood on its runners, gripping the handlebar in one fist and a long-barreled weapon in the other. Mother’s molten mantle, it’s another human! Is this who sent the signal? The sled halted and its rider stepped down, studying Ash and Skye from behind a headwrap that concealed every feature but penetrating brown eyes. “You’re off the map,” said a low female voice. She moved toward them with the same easy grace as the coywolves. Light, loose garments rippled around her as if she were made of shifting sand. “Where’s my brother?” Ash demanded, still gripping the knife. “If he’s important to you, you shouldn’t have abandoned him in the first place,” said the rider. “‘Dive together, survive together.’ Aren’t they preaching that crap anymore?” “Who are—” Skye bit back her words as a puff of wind made the woman blink. Not with her eyelids—her thick, dark lashes never stirred. Milky nictitating membranes flicked over her irises and retracted when the sand grains settled. The inhuman action turned Skye’s stomach. “What are you?” she finished. The rider pushed back her hood. Fine braids, black shot through with strands of pure white, cascaded to her jawline. Scaly patches on her cheeks and forehead made her face an unreadable mask. A scar on her lower lip shone pale against deep sienna skin. “I know,” Ash whispered. No horror showed on his face, only awe. He lowered his blade with trembling hands. “I’d recognize you anywhere, Lily.”

III. Retrograde Motion

1

Lily

Halley smokes, it’s Lily. She’s alive. Ash stared at the regal figure on the wolf sled. A quarter-century of sun had darkened her skin to a rich sienna, and scaly patches blossomed on her cheeks, but vestiges of the fierce-looking teenager remained. The signature scar still split her lip, and beneath their translucent inner lids her eyes radiated the same relentless intelligence. “How can you possibly recognize me?” she asked, startling Ash from his daze. “You’ve been staring at me from the GAEA scoreboard since I was twelve. I just broke your record. You’re a legend. You….” Ash broke off, swallowing hard. “You’re dead.” Lily’s altered face hardened. “You’re right. That girl died twenty-five years ago. Heat and dehydration are making you delirious.” Or the Edge has finally fried my synapses. What did Valerian put in those pills? “I can see you, too,” said Skye, stiffening as Lily’s gaze flicked to her. “And I wouldn’t have any reason to imagine you. What’s wrong with your eyes?” “I was going to ask you the same thing,” Lily shot back. “Blue eyes ed out of the gene pool decades ago.” “Maybe your unnatural Colony gene pool.” “She’s not from the Shack,” Ash explained as Lily’s hand stirred toward her rifle trigger. “She’s a Darksider.” Lily barked a laugh that made her coywolves wag their tails. “Now I’m the one imagining things. Darksiders, still alive?”

Still alive…. The phantom figure Ash had chased from the wash, momentarily eclipsed by shock, exploded back into his mind. He caught his breath. “Thorn! Where is he?” Without waiting for a reply, he darted past Lily and over the ridge. His enhanced eyes outlined a humanoid form sagging against the gulch’s rocky wall. The figure raised its head and Ash stared into a mirror of his own numb disbelief. Words dried up in his throat. Stumbling the last few meters, he pulled his brother into a crushing hug. Every detail seeped into him: air echoing in lungs, the faint tremor of exhausted muscles, a rapid fluttering pulse. His heartbeat synced with his twin’s like a broken machine restored of its missing part. “I knew you weren’t gone,” he sobbed into Thorn’s shoulder. “I don’t know how, I just knew.” Thorn laughed weakly. “Twin power. Better than any microchip.” “How did you get here? I saw the lights turn red and….” “I you pounding on the wall. That gas must’ve just knocked me out, because the next thing I is waking up in that pod graveyard.” Ash drew back, holding his brother at arm’s length. “Why did you run from me?” “To protect you, crater-brain, like I always do. Now get out of here before —” A cough shattered the sentence. Thorn wiped his mouth, leaving a smear of red. The sunken city’s mural—jaundiced faces spewing blood— burst into Ash’s memory. He dug his fingers into Thorn’s arms, anchoring himself against the instinct to run, and skin flaked under his grasp. Epidermis peeled in patches from shoulder to wrist; new flesh beneath bore a strange mosaic pattern. Ash took his Thorn’s face in his hands and examined it. The nostrils had split, narrowing as they healed, and a milky ooze rimmed his brown eyes. What’s wrong with him? It has to be Spores…but then he’d already be dead! Thorn batted his hands away. “I’m not one of your stupid specimens.”

“Gatherer habits are hard to break, even when all you gather is brats,” said Lily behind them. She put a hand on her hip, glaring reproachfully down at Thorn. “You need to rest. What possessed you to go racing across the desert at midday?” “I had to see if it was true.” Wheezing fractured Thorn’s speech. “What you told me…the pods….” “…will still be there when you’re well enough to go exploring,” Lily finished for him. “That’s twice I’ve fetched your ass from the pod pile. Don’t expect me to do it a third time.” Turning, she popped two fingers in her mouth and unleashed a shrill whistle. The coywolves loped eagerly to her side, pulling the empty sled. Up close, Ash could appreciate the ingenious design: a frame of light PVC piping lashed together atop wide runners. Braided cordage of fine, filmy plastic made harnesses for the beasts. Skye stared at them, her sunburned face aglow with enchantment. “I’ve never seen a real animal.” She reached eagerly forward. Dark lips pulled back over the coywolves’ fangs. Growls vibrated in their throats. Ash seized her arm out of instinct, pulling her back. “Do you want your face chewed off?” “Why would they hurt me? I haven’t done anything to them.” “It doesn’t matter. They’re savage. They’ll tear divers to shreds.” “Only if they feel threatened,” said Lily. She jabbed a finger at the sand. “Phobos! Deimos! To me.” The coywolves scurried back to flank her. “Mars’ moons?” asked Ash. Nervous sweat prickled under his collar. “My furry satellites.” Lily rubbed the canines’ ears, then turned to Skye. “Don’t lunge at them. Move slowly. Let them smell you.” Skye peeled off a glove and crouched down, extending a hand. Phobos snuffled at her fingers, then began licking at her with a broad pink tongue. She giggled and stroked the animal’s mottled coat with her free hand. “Why would you be scared of these, Ash?” she asked between laughs.

“Because I….” Because I always thought they were vicious, just like I thought Spores were deadly and humans couldn’t survive more than a few weeks on Earth. What else did we get wrong? “Ash, you need to go home,” said Thorn, letting Lily help him onto the sled’s narrow cargo bed. “Mom can’t lose us both.” “She hasn’t lost either of us.” Ash dabbed the fever glaze from his brother’s forehead with a cuff. “If Spores aren’t deadly, then I’m staying with you until you’re better.” “For such a supposedly great Gatherer, you haven’t noticed the most obvious thing about life on Earth,” said Lily. “Homo sapiens can’t survive here.” “What about you?” Ash caught her sleeve, the leather and the muscle beneath both irrefutably corporeal. “You’re no mirage.” “I’m no sapiens, either, at least not anymore.” Lily slid her long rifle casually across her shoulders. “Go back to your bubble and forget these crazy hallucinations. And next time stay on the map.” She clicked her tongue. The coywolves shot off like a pair of comets, hauling Thorn away, and Lily strode off in their smooth wake. “Hey!” Ash ran a few futile steps after them. Sand dragged against his reinforced boots. If I follow the sled track, I’ll catch up eventually. I have to find out what’s happening here. “Where are you going?” Skye trotted alongside him. Strands of hair around her face absorbed the sunset, transforming into filaments of fire. “It’s almost sundown. If the others do what you asked, they’ll be leaving soon.” “In a quad that only takes three engers. Even if we got back in time, we’d have to wait until they sent another vehicle for us.” Ash glanced at his filter. Ochre stained the indicator’s edges, but the center still shone healthy green. “We’ve got at least twelve hours left, if we breathe easy. Better to find a safe place for the night, then come back to Goldstone in the morning and set up the rescue beacon. Unless that claim was just part of your ploy, too.” Skye gave an insulted sniff. “No. I can do it.”

“All right, then. Give me the chip.” Ash held out his hand. “Why?” “Because I don’t trust you.” “But you trust her?” Skye nodded after Lily, already melting into the distant sand. “I know her.” “No, you don’t. She’s an old photo on your scoreboard, a story you grew up hearing. She’s a myth.” “So were you.” “And look what happened when you followed me,” said Skye, dropping the bloodstained microchip into his palm. Yeah—I found my dead brother, alive. “Go back if you want, but I’m not leaving Thorn like that.” Ash jogged around her and didn’t look back. A few moments later, he caught the counterpoint rhythm of footsteps and panting as Skye followed. The sound of her struggle gave him a twinge of petty satisfaction. Serves her right for faking gravity weakness to escape. Clever move, Darksider, but now you have to keep up for real. The smug thoughts withered inside the first kilometer as Lily’s brisk pace left him winded. It took all his energy just to keep her in sight. Even his chemically sharpened vision could barely discern her camouflaged form on the sere landscape. How can she move like that in this heat, on this terrain? He took desperate sips from his hydration tube, but the reclaimed water scarcely wet his throat. Shadows stretched and dissolved in the gloaming. Faint light glimmered on the dark horizon.

“What’s that?” Skye gasped. “Probably just moonlight on some ruins. Lots of glass and metal in the old cities. It reflects everything.” “Even when Luna is a sliver?” Ash glanced up at the narrow slice of moon, then back at the horizon. Outlines of rooftops surrounded a core of gauzy white light. Where are we? A moment later, a bleached sign on the roadside answered his question: Welcome to Fort Irwin. The glow strengthened around them, illuminating the empty shells of houses on either side of the road. Four walls stood on some lots, while in others only heaps of stucco and curved roof tiles remained. Lily slowed to a walk, light and darkness scrolling over her as she ed beneath the few still-burning street lamps. Ash craned his neck at one of the poles. “How can there be electricity?” “This place had one of the biggest solar grids in the country at Sporespread. It powered the whole area,” Skye told him, staring around the street with wide eyes. “That’s what made me think the radio dishes at Goldstone could be the source of the signal.” “You think Lily sent it?” Skye narrowed her eyes at the rangy silhouette ahead of them. “She doesn’t seem the type to invite company.” Ahead, a group of buildings surrounded a wide paved lot. Ash recognized the long, flat shape of a commercial center and the freestanding boxes of fuel stations and food dispensaries. A coywolf howled and half a dozen others echoed the haunting chorus. Lily tipped back her head and ed in, making Ash jump. She’s half wild herself. And all these coywolves…I’m an idiot for leaving

behind the Hummingbird! Phobos and Deimos nipped affectionately at a few packmates that trotted out to greet them. The sled dragged to a halt and long-limbed shadows emerged from the nearby doorways. “Still setting records, Lily?” called a male voice. “I don’t think you’ve ever brought back two in one day before.” “These aren’t hatchlings, Ced,” Lily replied. “They’ve still got masks on.” “Divers? Who dives out here? No one bothers looking for specimens in this wasteland,” said a girl, giggling. Her voice teased Ash’s memory: freckles framing a permanent smile, a loud boisterous voice in the ready room, and a ring of red bulbs condemning her to the pod. “Ginger?” he asked in disbelief. “Who is that?” She scampered forward into the light. Her hair was longer and scales daubed her face, but her identity was unmistakable. “I was on your team for a few months, before you….” Ash trailed off, discomfited, but Ginger grinned. “I you! You’re that weed who hid behind his twin all the time and never spoke to anyone.” “He turned out to be pretty good, though,” said a boy with a deep tan and shaggy hair. “Only two places below Lily when I got red-ringed last year. Ash, isn’t it?” “Yeah. And you’re Hickory, right? We were in the trainee program together.” “Whaddya know, he does talk.” The boy turned to Skye and blinked his inner eyelids—she flinched, but didn’t withdraw. “I don’t her, though. New teammate? She’s awfully tall for a weed.” “She’s not a weed,” said Ash. “She’s a Darksider.”

Murmurs slithered around the square. Onlookers leaned out of their windows for a better view. A few on the ground crept closer. Skye stood stiff with her chin high, her hands curling into fists. “Ooh, this is too weird,” said Ginger with an exaggerated shiver. “When I was a kid, I thought Darksiders would sneak into the Shack and kidnap me to dig tunnels out on the maria.” “She’s a little freaky,” Hickory agreed. “You’re calling me a freak?” Skye broke into brittle laughter. “Have you looked at yourselves? What are you?” The outburst left a hollow in the air. Insects thrummed in the desert night. At last Lily spoke, her voice flat and hard as the cracked pavement under their feet. “I will tell you who we are.” She indicated the handful of people around her, and Ash reassembled the names in his head as she introduced them. “Gin.” Ginger. “Kory.” Hickory. “Jas.” Jasmine. Faces he ed from the dive platform, veterans who’d strutted into the de-con pods and never came out again. “Ced.” Cedar. “Ryll.” Amaryllis. Names from the all-time leaderboard, achievements earned a decade before he was born. Dozens of other names, matched with curious faces he didn’t recognize. None save Lily looked older than their mid-twenties, but all sported the same strange features: the ancillary eyelids, tough blistered skin, filter-like nostrils that enabled a range of subtle expressions. “How many of you are here?” asked Ash. “Including him?” Lily nodded at Thorn, dozing fitfully on the sled. “Fortysix.” That must be every diver who’s been red-ringed in the last decade! And more…. “Forty-seven,” Ryll corrected with a grin. “Phlox had her baby this afternoon.”

“Ah, I’m sorry I wasn’t here,” said Lily. “Did Xy faint? He was more worried about it than she was.” “Actually, he—” “What are you talking about?” Ash looked between the two women. “We can’t reproduce.” “That’s what we said the first time, too,” said Ryll, casting a sly look at Ced. He snickered, then stooped to detach a small shadow from his leg and lifted it onto his hip. The little girl looked like any other Colony child aged around five years old, with round cheeks and fine dark hair. She could be one of Mom’s students. Then the girl blinked her eerie second eyelids. Skye bit back a horrified gasp, and a shudder ran down Ash’s spine. “I don’t understand,” he stammered. “The Repro Lab makes us so we can’t…I mean…how is any of this, any of you, possible?” Lily freed Phobos and Deimos from their harnesses, then knelt beside the sled. “Let’s get your brother inside. Then we’ll see how good at taxonomy you really are.”

2

Tenax

Forty pairs of inhuman eyes tracked Skye through the dark. Even after she followed Ash and Lily into one of the buildings, their stares penetrated the cinderblock walls and seared her to the bone. Are they really human? They must have been, if Ash knew them before. But what are they now? Impure, hissed a voice in her head that sounded too much like Madurai. “Shut up,” Skye muttered to it. Ash glanced at her, puzzled, but said nothing as he eased Thorn into a hammock made from woven plastic cord. Lily brought over a jug of water. “Stupid brat only made it worse for himself, getting dehydrated,” she grumbled, laying a leather square smeared with poultice on Thorn’s shuddering chest. “Get him to drink as much of this as you can.” Ash propped Thorn against his shoulder and tried to trickle water between his brother’s chapped lips. Damp, dark hair plastered both their foreheads. They look like reflections of the same person—one fighting against a nightmare, and the other waking to discover it’s real. The portrait softened one of the armored places in her mind. “What’s wrong with him?” “It has to be Spores,” said Ash, his voice wavering. “He’s got all the symptoms—trouble breathing, fever, coughing up blood, then….” “A suffocating death from acute respiratory failure?” Lily folded herself onto one of the mats covering the clean-swept floor. Phobos and Deimos slipped in on soundless paws to lie on either side of her. “Don’t trust outdated science. I went through the same thing, and I’ve survived for twenty-five years.” She wound a braid around her finger, frowning at the

silver threads amid the black. “I’ve lived on Earth longer than I did on Luna.” “You still have a presence there, believe me,” Ash told her. “Every weed who comes through the Vator looks up at your picture and dreams of being half as good as you were. You cataloged more species than anyone.” “I only study one species now.” Reaching into the folds of her tunic, Lily pulled out a stack of thin plastic sheets bound with stitching down the left side. “Homo tenax.” “Tenax?” Ash laid Thorn gently down and took the book in both hands. “Tenacious man?” “Gatherers never forget their Linnean classifications.” Lily chuckled. “Once I wasn’t a unique specimen, I figured we needed a name.” Skye peered over Ash’s shoulder as he opened the journal’s slick cover. Meticulous handwriting covered each page in dense brown ink. Sharp lines struck out the text in some places and annotations crammed every margin. Sketches—crude at first, but growing more refined as the entries progressed —detailed human facial anatomy. “That’s Ginger,” said Ash, pausing at a pair of matched drawings. Skye recognized a rough likeness of the girl from the square. One portrait looked feverish but anatomically normal; the opposite page showed a healthier face with altered eyes, nostrils, and skin. Ash shivered against her arm and she knew his thoughts must mirror her own: Is that what’s going to happen to Thorn? “What happens to them?” she asked, looking up at Lily. “Adaptation.” Lily fingered one of the scaly patches on her cheeks. “These don’t look pretty, but they seem to protect me from sunburn. The modified eyelids and nostrils keep out particulates. I drink less without getting thirsty. And in spite of the pollution, my lungs feel stronger than ever. There are probably other changes, too, internal ones I can’t detect.” “Like reproductive viability?” asked Ash. “Whatever the Repro Lab does to suppress our gametes, Aspergillus must

negate it,” said Lily, her expression wavering between amusement and disdain. “Those frisky brats have added three children to our little tribe.” “Do the babies have to transform, too?” “No. That’s the incredible part. They’re born with all the adaptive traits, Tenax from their first breath. I might even classify them as a distinct subspecies.” “But evolution takes thousands of years,” said Skye. “How can you change so much in a matter of months?” “Don’t they teach you Darksiders what made Aspergillus so deadly? It does more than cause respiratory disease. It also produces a toxin that affects the p53 gene,” said Lily, as if that explained everything. Ash made a knowing sound and scrutinized the notes in absorbed silence. After a moment, Skye poked him in the arm. “I’m an electronics prodigy, not a biology geek.” “Sorry.” Ash pointed to a drawing of a double helix. “The p53 gene regulates cell growth in humans. Normally it helps prevent mutations like cancer. But if something messed with that gene—” “It might accelerate mutation instead?” Skye guessed. “That’s part of my theory,” said Lily. “I also think Aspergillus picked up transgenes from that engineered grain it infected a century ago—genes introduced for drought tolerance, heat resistance, improved carbon dioxide conversion, and more.” “Horizontal gene transfer,” Ash murmured. “Aspergillus took on genes from that grain and ed them to you.” Lily nodded. “It might have been a deadly parasite a century ago, but after driving its hosts to extinction, it had to change. Now it behaves more like a symbiont, making us better suited for survival on Earth.” It is possible, then. Skye stared at Lily, trying to picture herself leather-clad and reclining between a pair of wolves. We could return to our Mother…if we

contaminate our genes with whatever those Spores introduce. As if reading her thoughts, the older woman blinked her eye membranes and Skye shuddered. “So Thorn’s not going to die?” Ash glanced from the journal to his brother, who lay twitching in a fever dream. “On the contrary,” said Lily. “He’ll get to truly live. That was why I came here in the first place.” “What do you mean? You were red-ringed.” “Is that what they told you?” A bitter smile twisted Lily’s lips. “I’m not surprised. It doesn’t encourage faith in the Mars program if your star terranaut plots escape to the old homeworld.” “You wanted to return to the Mother, too?” asked Skye, catching her breath. “Live on Earth?” “No. We wanted to die on it.” “We?” “My best friend was going to come with me. For three years we explored this planet without tasting its air or feeling its rain. The Mars project was nowhere near completion then—our only future was a lifetime of grey walls in the Shack.” Lily shook her head. “After all we’d seen on Earth, that idea was unbearable. We decided it was better to die in the wild than live in a cage.” Ash frowned as if trying to recall something, but Lily didn’t seem to notice. Her brown eyes turned distant. “We were going to swim in the ocean. That was our dream for years back on Luna, where water only trickles out of spigots. We decided that when the Spore symptoms started showing, we’d just paddle out and let the sea have us. It seemed so easy—take our teams diving off the map and just slip away together.” She wanted to escape Luna and experience her true planet. I might have done the same, if I were a Colony terranaut. Skye cocked her head, studying Lily with new empathy. “And it worked?”

Darkness carved baleful lines in Lily’s face. “He never showed. By the time I gave up waiting for him, my team had already been forced to go back without me. I followed the highway south, hoping I’d get in range and get rescued, but my filter burned out before I even got close.” “What did you do?” “I got a Spore infection. What do you think?” Lily snapped. “I was too far from the water to end things how I’d planned, which I guess was lucky, since I didn’t die. When I recovered, my instinct was to communicate with the Shack—everything we thought about Earth being uninhabitable was wrong. I’d flown over Goldstone once or twice and seen the dishes, and they seemed like my best chance at . But by the time I got here and dusted off the solar array, I realized no one on that rock deserved to share my discovery. Not after they’d abandoned me. So I left them crammed in their little bubbles on Luna while I had a whole planet to myself.” Her harsh laugh rang in the rafters of the spartan room. “That sounds lonely,” said Skye. Even worse than all my solo expeditions to Shackleton, with no one to talk to but the rover. “Coywolves make good company.” Lily scratched Phobos between the ears and the animal shut his golden eyes in contentment. “And after about fifteen years, the red-ringers started showing up. First Ryll, then Ced, then Phlox and Xy…damned Colony can’t leave me in peace.” “They don’t know you’re here,” said Ash. “They might,” Skye told him. “The Shack could have been intercepting those signals just like I did. If it’s biometric data from your chips, like you said, someone could be monitoring the survivors right now.” Lily held up a scaly hand, turning it back and forth so that shadows danced beneath the single bare lightbulb. “Spying on their newest colony. Of course.” “What do you mean?” Ash’s head snapped up from the book to stare at her. “Why else would they secretly re-locate all those infected divers?” Skye murmured.

Lily inclined her head in assent. “We’ve been speculating about it for years, but always come back to the same hypothesis. We’re probably an Earth rehabitation experiment.” “No.” The journal shook in Ash’s hand. He tossed it back to Lily. “All of you ending up here is just an accident. Everything we do—GAEA, the dives, the helium-3 prospecting—gets us closer to Mars.” “How’s that coming along?” asked Lily dryly. “Sounds like they haven’t made much progress since I left.” “Terraforming a new planet takes generations,” said Ash. “And if we change direction now, everything we’ve put toward it—the people who died for it—will be for nothing. Earth will only take us backward.” Lurching to his feet, he marched out into the dark. “I thought you wanted to get off Luna?” Skye shouted after him. No reply came. She folded her arms. “He’s obsessed with finding new species, until it’s his own.” “Change frightens people. I see it with every kid who goes through this,” said Lily, jerking her chin at Thorn. “The hardest part isn’t the physical transition. It’s the mental one, adjusting to a new reality.” “But it’s not new at all. Earth is where we came from, where we belong! My people have dreamed of returning to our Mother for three generations.” Lily stood, her shadow unfolding on the wall behind her. “And what kind of life have they imagined?” “One where we don’t have to fight for every breath of oxygen and drop of water.” “You think there are no struggles down here? No matter what planet you call home, survival can be brutal. It always has been. Even before Sporespread, only a tiny fraction of Earth’s humans had it easy—most of them scraped and starved and barely got by. But the descendants of nations wealthy enough to build a space elevator don’t that world, do they?” Lily circled Skye, leather hissing around her legs. “I bet they filled your head with memories of green grass and soft rain and birds singing you

to sleep.” “Are you suggesting those things aren’t real?” Skye swallowed hard against the swell of anger in her throat. “I’m saying this is real.” Callused fingers closed around Skye’s arm and spun her to face the entrance. She tried to pull away, but Lily held firm. The doorway framed a glimpse of the world outside: ragtag figures drifting through ruins bathed in moonlight. “Whatever Earth was in the past, this is what our ancestors left of it—asphalt, toxic air, and enough plastic waste to build a stairway to Luna. You call her your mother, but a few millennia of ungrateful children turned her into a bitch.” “Sinners!” Madurai’s voice cut through Skye’s memory, making her flinch. “We betrayed and defiled our Mother, and so we must suffer in repentant exile until she heals. Only when the pollution has been purged can the pure return.” “We’re not resuming civilization where it left off. We’re starting over, altered life forms on an altered planet. It’s no different than colonizing an alien world,” Lily went on. “If your people think they’re up to the challenge, bring them. They can us or go find their own land, I don’t care either way. But don’t come expecting paradise.” Vicious coughing turned Lily’s attention back to Thorn. She loosened her grip and Skye tore free, dashing across the road and into the maze of walls. Shock smoldered in every cell of her body, every synapse of her brain. How can we come back to Earth if it means contaminating our genes? How can we stay on Luna, knowing there’s a way to survive here where we belong? The fire found its way to her eyes, blurring what little she could see in the dusk. Her other senses took over. Lively sounds—laughter, a baby’s squeal, the yap of a coywolf—rang off the concrete. Tantalizing scents of cooking wafted through her mask and made her stomach growl. She almost bumped into Gin and Jas strolling out toward the open desert. One carried a modified rifle like Lily’s, the other a wicked-looking recurve bow. They waved to Ced, who was transferring pans of water carefully from a solar still. A chubby toddler played on the tarp nearby. Managing resources, dividing labor, raising children…it’s like home, without

cramped tunnels and oxygen bioreactors. Or proper humans. The eerie Tenax eyes all seemed to follow her, sneaking curious glances as she ed. It reminded her of the whispering tunnel of terranauts on GEO. “Even among freaks, I’m a freak,” she muttered. A wave of loneliness crashed over her, and she found herself scanning the faces for one in a mask. The glint of moonlight on armor caught her eye—shadows stirred atop a dilapidated building at the street’s end. Skye located the stairwell and climbed the broken stairs to the roof. Ash sat hunched at the edge with his back to her, staring over the fort’s dark geometry. Darkness bit out the moon’s core, leaving only an ethereal rind. “So that’s what the near side looks like. I never thought the first time I saw it would be from three hundred thousand klicks away,” said Skye, folding herself down beside Ash. Compared to the Tenax, his presence felt almost familiar. “It looks so tiny. But I like the crescent shape. It’s like Luna is smiling on us.” “Laughing at us, maybe,” Ash muttered. “And why not? It’s a good joke. People who sacrifice their lives to get away from this planet end up here anyway. And you know the funniest part?” He made a strained noise that sounded more like a suppressed sob than a laugh. “You’re the only one who knew. Go ahead, Darksider, say it. You were right.” “Not really. This wasn’t what I expected to find at the other end of the signal.” Goosebumps trailed up Skye’s arms as she imagined alleles from engineered organisms slithering into her helixes. She shuddered and hugged her knees. “I guess I lied to both of us.” “Not entirely. You promised me a great discovery on Earth, and I can’t think of one more incredible than this. We thought all these divers were dead. And Thorn…Halley smokes, my brother’s alive.” Ash stared up into the universe, eyes gleaming damp in the starlight. Skye tilted her head, studying his profile. “You don’t sound happy.” “Unless I can figure out how to get him back to the Shack with Spores in his

lungs, he’s still as good as gone. I’ll lose him all over again.” “Maybe your family can move to Earth.” “What, so you and I can be neighbors?” “My people won’t want to come here now.” Skye fiddled with her bootstraps. “If Lily’s mutation theory is right, then the only way to call Earth home again is to embrace impurity. Madurai would never accept that.” Ash shifted to look at her. “Why is this Madurai person so important, anyway? She sounds like a crazy old bat.” “She was the daughter of the first Exile, who inspired the exodus,” Skye recited, wincing at the flat notes of apostasy in her own voice. “She inherited the gift of communion with the Mother. That makes her our only connection to Earth.” “But she can’t be the only one. You told me your family descended from the original Exile, too.” “Yes.” Skye let out a long breath. “Madurai is my grandmother.” “Does that mean you have this…gift?” Ash raised an eyebrow. “Can you hear Earth in your head?” “The only message I ever heard from Earth was the signal. Geneva, too. She put more faith in science than mysticism. Things would be very different if she’d succeeded Madurai as leader, like she was supposed to. She taught me telemetry so that when my turn came, I’d have more than old stories and visions to guide me.” Ash looked faintly impressed. “Then you’re next in line to lead the Darksiders.” “Not anymore. I’m tainted genes, a traitor’s offspring unfit to share the community’s oxygen,” Skye spat. “When Geneva disappeared trying to the Shack, Madurai ordered me put to death.”

Ash stared at her. “How old were you?” “Ten.” “Same age as me when my dad died,” he murmured. “What kind of witch would kill a ten-year-old because her mother disobeyed?” “There’s no redemption for flawed DNA,” said Skye, bitterness flooding her mouth. “If Geneva was capable of disloyalty, then so am I.” “That’s ridiculous.” The sly grin slipped onto her face unbidden. “And yet I’m here on Earth with you.” Ash shrugged. “Even so, if it were genetic, Geneva could have inherited it from Madurai.” “That was the problem. Her power stems from her lineage, so if people can question her genes, they can question her authority.” Fingernails bit into Skye’s palms as her fists contracted. “She had to destroy anything—anyone —that cast doubt on her.” “And yet you’re here on Earth with me,” Ash echoed softly, his expression unreadable. “So how did you survive? What made your grandmother change her mind?” “Santiago—he’s the chief engineer in charge of the Ship—convinced her I’d be more useful scavenging parts for construction.” “Why did he stand up for you?” If only I knew. Closing her eyes, Skye replayed the hazy reel of memories again: …. “I know it was you who took the radio amplifier.” Santiago leans close to Geneva, hiding his words beneath the grumble of the water generator. “You’re not just scavenging parts out at Shackleton, are you?”

“Don’t be so paranoid.” She deflects the question with a laugh and turns my head back toward the monitor. “See this string of characters, Skye? It’s the part of the program that lets the computer talk to—” Santiago grabs her sleeve. “I thought we didn’t keep secrets from each other.” “Just from everyone else.” Her voice is light and cold like the frost in the unheated tunnels. “At least leave Skye out of it.” “She was born into it, Santiago. You know that as well as I do. All I can do is prepare her.” …. Echoes of a million Madurais shriek around the cavern. I can’t stop crying, and it makes me so dizzy that her twisted finger splits into three when she points at me. “Your mother’s treachery is the shame of your blood. We must eradicate such defects from our gene pool. Traitors cannot share our oxygen!” Uncomfortable murmurs from the tribunal. Santiago steps out of the group, twisting his hands. “With all deference, Speaker, she may have another use….” …. Furtive glances across the pile of stolen parts. Santiago pretends to reach for a spare solar cell and mutters through his beard: “Are you getting enough to eat?” Before I can answer, he palms me a wrapped object—spirulina bars, their dense texture immediately familiar—and hurries out toward the Ship. I want to throw the packet after him and yell: Why keep me alive, only to send me out to my death? Hunger stifles rage. I stash the food in my rover for my next trip. My last trip.

…. “I don’t know,” said Skye, shaking her head hard to clear the images. “Maybe just because he was close with Geneva. Or because he might be my father.” “Might be?” Ash asked. Skye frowned at the moon. “I think Madurai always resented me for that, even before Geneva’s betrayal. She keeps obsessive records of everyone’s heredity and approves all pairings. With such a small population, it’s the only way to avoid inbreeding. For her own heir to have a question mark in her family tree was an insult.” “If this Santiago is your father, he should have defended you properly.” “I’d just been branded genetic refuse, Ash. He couldn’t openly claim me without bringing scrutiny onto himself. Madurai would have jumped at the chance to attribute the flaws outside her own line.” Skye picked at the stitching of her borrowed suit. “You don’t understand what it’s like when DNA shapes your whole world.” “Yes, I do,” said Ash. “It’s the whole reason we dive. Do you know what GAEA stands for?” “Get Away from Evil Aspergillus?” Skye giggled at her own invention. “Genetic Archive of Earth Ancestry. The whole Shack revolves around that project.” Ash ticked off points on his fingers, his voice gaining momentum with each one. “Kids get red-ringed every year hunting for specimens. Engineers like my dad die prospecting for helium-3 so we can fuel more terraforming landers. And life on the Shack gets harder all the time because we put all our spare resources toward Mars. Why would Everest waste our lives that way if they really want to recolonize Earth, like Lily says?” Skye rested her chin on her knees and looked at him. “Maybe I’m not the only one who misled you.” Ash looked back with quiet gravity. “Maybe you’re the only one who told me the truth. There’s no way the Shack’s sensors missed that signal.

Someone must’ve intercepted it and kept it a secret.” “Who would do that?” “I don’t know. But we’re going to find out.” She nudged him with her elbow. “You said we.” A smile darted across Ash’s face, ephemeral as a meteor. “Only if you stop trying to beat me up all the time.” The night gathered up Skye’s laughter and bounced it across the empty town. “You’ve got a deal. I’ll swear it on that star.” She pointed to a low, brilliant spot throbbing on the horizon. Ash leaned forward. “That’s not a star.” The light seemed to rise out of the desert. Shouts rang through the streets, and two figures dashed into view. “It’s Gin and Jas,” said Skye, squinting through the dark. “I saw them leave a little while ago. Why’d they come back so soon?” “They’re running from something.” Ash inhaled sharply and leapt to his feet. “It’s the quad! They came back!”

3

Flight

Down the rickety stairs, through the moonlit alleys, across the ancient road. Ash sprinted toward the approaching lights with Skye on his heels. His boots beat a cadence of disbelief: They came back! They came back! He tore around a corner and almost collided with Gin. “Not what we were hunting for,” she panted, glancing over her shoulder at the quad. “I haven’t seen one of those since I was red-ringed!” “It’s my team,” Ash told her. “Willow and Linden and—” Her anxious face brightened. “I them! They were weeds with you, weren’t they?” She jogged toward the quad, which had dropped to a low hover, and rapped knuckles on the vehicle’s underbelly. “Hey, weeds! Quit chasing us, it’s—” The hatch flew open. A high-frequency whine stung Ash’s ears and Gin collapsed in a heap on the pavement. “There’s a whole gang of them!” Linden’s terrified voice skittered out into the street. “We’re under attack!” Ash swore and sprinted forward. “Willow! Stop, it’s us!” The rotors swallowed his words. Skye hauled Gin out of Hummingbird range, danger apparently overcoming her revulsion at the Tenax, while Jas unleashed cover fire. Arrows bounced useless off the quad’s hull. Ash grabbed a chunk of cement off the road and hurled it against the pilot’s window. Summoning every molecule of air in his lungs, he shouted through the mask: “Hazel! Turn it off!” The vehicle rumbled like a thundercloud over his head. Then it lowered

jerkily to the ground and the churning blades stilled. Willow peered out of the open hatch. “Ash?” “What are you doing here? I told you to go back to the Vator!” “We were about to, but when we got airborne we saw lights a few klicks eastward.” Hazel appeared, machine grease smeared all over her uniform. “I thought it might be you trying to signal us, so I said I’d break the quad again if we didn’t fly over and look for you.” She shot Willow a triumphant look. The older girl ignored her. “What are you doing way out here, Ash?” “I don’t give a quark what he’s doing here, I wanna know what these things are doing here!” said Linden. He pressed himself against the hull’s frame, stealing glances around the edge. “We live here,” Jas snapped, shouldering her weapon to take Gin’s limp weight from Skye. The injured girl uncurled herself with a cough. “Now I feel bad for all the animals I nailed when I was a Hunter.” Translucent membranes sealed her eyes against the swirling dust and the quad’s lights glazed her skin blue, making her dermal scales look all the more bizarre. Willow bit back a gasp. “What are they?” “They’re everywhere,” said Linden, swinging the Hummingbird in a jerky arc at the small group of Tenax drawn by the commotion. “This isn’t a defensible position. Get us airborne, weed! It’s our best chance.” Sweat beaded his brow even in the relative cool of night. “This isn’t a battle,” Ash told him. “No one will hurt you.” “They shot at us!” “You shot them first, what do you expect?” asked Skye, marching toward the quad with hands on her hips. “Cool your neurons and stop being a bully for a picosecond.”

Fury and fear contorted Linden’s face. He swung the flared muzzle toward Skye. Dammit, Darksider, he’s already itching at the trigger—don’t you know when to keep it to yourself? With a quick sidestep, Ash placed himself between Skye and the Hummingbird. Linden glared at him. “Out of the way, Ash, or I’ll—” A ringing contralto silenced the fray. “What in the Goddard-damned galaxy is going on out here?” The curtain over the nearby building entrance snapped aside. White light poured into the street, outlining a vengeful goddess in the doorway. “I guess they’re not bothering with de-con pods anymore. They’re just flying you brats straight to me,” said Lily in a tone that could’ve coaxed snow from the hot, cloudless sky. She glanced at Linden and her nostrils flattened in annoyance. “Drop that Hummingbird, you crater-brained cretin, or I’ll set the wolves on you.” Linden turned sickly pale under his mask. The weapon quivered in his grip. “You…you’re….” “Dead, yes. I’ve been informed.” She strode out and examined Gin, who looked shaken but unharmed. Willow watched Lily’s every move, her eyes so wide that Ash caught his own reflection in her dark pupils. “I don’t understand,” she whispered. “Neither do I. Not yet,” said Ash. He leaned on the hull, lowering his voice. “This is why I asked you to do this mission. I didn’t know what we might find, but I knew you’d be smart enough to help me figure it out.” Terror and curiosity warred on Willow’s face. Her Gatherer instincts won. Slowly, as if fighting gravity, she nodded and signaled for Hazel to cut the quad’s power. “Is this where the DNA bank is hidden?” she asked as the three divers

disembarked. “They are the DNA bank,” said Skye, nodding at the Tenax. Willow appraised her with narrowed eyes. “A few hours ago you could barely walk.” “Yes, aren’t we humans a marvelously adaptable species?” said Skye sweetly, turning away to talk with Hazel. Willow cast a reproachful look at Ash. He shook his head. “Long story. I’ll explain it all, but there’s something you need to see first.” Leading the divers across the square, he paused outside the door curtain. “It’ll seem insane, but if you can get past that and think about—” “You’ve done too much thinking already.” Linden elbowed him aside to enter, then yelped as Phobos and Deimos raised their heads. “Coywolves! Get out of here, Will! I’ll hold them off—” Skye slapped the weapon down. “Let them be. They won’t hurt you.” “You wanna be their next meal, Darksider? Go for it. I’ve seen those monsters rip off divers’ faces and….” He trailed off as Skye knelt between the animals and scratched their heads. “Don’t mind him. He’s just badly conditioned,” she crooned to them. “Come on, let’s get away from him.” “Are they really tame?” Willow eyed Phobos and Deimos warily as Skye led them outside. Ash shrugged. “Seem to be. Lily must’ve raised and trained them.” “Lily,” said Willow in reverent disbelief. “Is that really her? How can —” A strangled cry from Hazel cut short the question. She stood with one hand half-raised from her side, reaching across the room toward the hammock. “That can’t be….”

“Thorn,” Ash confirmed, morose weight settling in his chest again. He looked down at his twin, fevered and murmuring. He’ll have scales and extra eyelids and never set foot on Luna again, but he’s still my brother. Still half of me. The strong half that doesn’t hide behind a diver’s mask and a haze of Edge. Willow gasped. “Spores aren’t toxic?” “No. They just…change you.” “Into one of those freaks outside?” Linden stared at Thorn with a mix of pity and disgust. “Maybe that’s the real reason the pods snuff you when you get infected.” “Obviously they don’t snuff you at all, or none of us would be here,” said Lily, making them all start. She’d slipped in unheard and leaned against the doorframe with her arms folded. “What’s happening here?” Willow asked her. With only modest traces of impatience, Lily went through her hypothesis again. It made more sense the second time Ash listened to it—his brain seemed to be regaining function as the initial shock ebbed—and he gauged the plausibility of her theory against his teammates’ reactions. Willow pored over the research journal, as he had. Linden paced the room, clutching his filter canister. Only Hazel behaved differently than he would have expected. Instead of storming and swearing, she sank into a crouch with her eyes unfocused. When Lily finished, the words hung over them for several minutes before Linden broke the silence with a curse. “I don’t believe it. No one would mess up our genes on purpose.” “Didn’t your parents talk to you about how the Repro Lab works?” Willow asked scathingly. She shut the book with a soft thump of its plastic sheets. “There’s a lot of questions here, but if we want to get answers, we have to get home first.” “And we have to bring him with us,” said Hazel, speaking for the first time since they’d entered the building. Her gaze stayed fixed on Thorn.

“No way,” said Linden. “We’ll contaminate the whole Vator.” “We can’t abandon a teammate! Besides, if we don’t take him, who’ll believe us when we say he’s alive?” “We’re already too much for the quad,” Willow reminded her. “We can’t fit another enger.” “Then I’ll strip it down lighter, or find a way to boost the power charge, or…or something.” Hazel stomped a boot on the concrete and hurled herself out through the curtain. Willow sighed. “Typical weed. Still stuck on training indoctrinations about keeping the team together.” “What’s wrong with caring about your teammates?” asked Ash sharply, laying a hand on Thorn’s shoulder. “Nothing, but we’re not the only people in the universe. Whatever’s going on here, it’s bigger than any one of us.” Willow leaned closer, her eyes and voice hard. “We need to inform the Colony.” “So they can interfere with our lives here, if they haven’t already?” Lily snapped. “Monitor us, manage us, even exterminate us? No. I won’t allow that.” Alarm tightened Ash’s nerves. “What are you saying?” “No one who’s come to us has ever gone back,” said Lily. “Maybe we should keep it that way.” “You can’t force us to stay and turn into more freaks.” Linden leveled his Hummingbird a meter from Lily’s chest. Ash lunged toward him, but Lily was faster. Ducking the weapon’s barrel, she cupped Linden’s throat and slammed him back against the wall. Skull met beam with a nauseous crack. Lily released her grip and Linden slid to the floor, his gun clattering on the cement. “This isn’t my choice to make, or yours,” said Lily coldly. “All of us Tenax need to discuss it and figure out what to do with you.” The curtain fluttered

and she melted into the night. Willow muttered a curse. “I can see why someone would want her exiled to Earth.” She knelt beside Linden and helped him sit upright, groaning. “He shouldn’t have attacked her,” said Ash through clenched teeth. “It’s not his fault. He’s not normally like this.” She dabbed at Linden’s damp forehead with her cuff. “I think he’s having a bad reaction to the latest batch of pills. He said Valerian changed the formula.” “Linden’s doing Edge?” “What, you thought you were the only one?” Numbness flooded Ash’s veins. “What makes you think—” “See, this is your problem, Ash. You think that just because you hide from everyone, no one can see through you. Medal or no medal, you’re as scared as the rest of us.” Willow examined the back of Linden’s head and frowned at the tiny spots of red that came away on her gloves. “And just as susceptible to Spores. If we stay here much longer, you won’t need Edge to spot new specimens—you’ll turn into one, weird scales and all.” “I don’t want scales,” Linden mumbled, thick and dazed. “I want to go home.” They signed up for an epic dive, not a lifetime in the desert. It’s my responsibility to get them back. Ash drew a deep breath, the rasp of his filter loud in his ears. “Then we need to leave now, while the Tenax are occupied. We’ll just have to take our chances with the quad.” Willow peered around the curtain. “They didn’t post a guard. Everyone’s walking away down the street. Come on, hurry.” She dragged Linden to his feet, snatched up the Hummingbird, and left. Ash knelt beside the hammock and gripped his brother’s hand. Dried blood outlined Thorn’s lips in crimson. Red-ringed. “I’ll come back for you. I promise.”

Tears blurred everything in a hot haze, and he almost stumbled into someone standing just outside the door. A soft yelp told him it was Skye. “Listening in? Then you know it’s time to leave,” he said flatly. Swiping at his eyes while he walked, he almost tripped on loose parts strewn over the road around the quad. “What’s all this?” “Dead weight,” said Hazel, cranking furiously at the hatch hinges with her good hand. “Stripping the non-essential parts might lighten her up enough to take more people.” “How many?” “We’re about to find out.” She jettisoned the with a kick and threw herself into the pilot’s chair. “Hang on to something.” Linden and Willow strapped into the two other harnesses, leaving Skye to brace herself between the seats and the hull. Ash wedged in next to her as the turbines whined into gear. “Come on, come on,” Hazel murmured to the machine. Rotors throbbed like a wounded heart. Pavement receded slowly below them. The quad lurched a few meters into the air and hung there, straining. “We need more power, weed,” Linden growled. “Then get out and push,” Hazel snapped back. “Or just get out altogether. We’re still too heavy.” “Well, we got where we were going and the DNA bank was a load of spacewaste. So we don’t need the Darksider anymore, do we?” Without waiting for a reply, Linden seized Skye by the front of her uniform and shoved her out the open hatch.

4

Crush

It wasn’t like falling on Luna. No smooth, graceful descent or delicate touchdown. Earth yanked her violently backward and slammed her into the pavement as the scream was still leaving her throat. The sturdy dive armor absorbed most of the impact, but something shattered beneath her. I hope that wasn’t a bone! Too nervous to breathe, Skye tried to move her legs. Every muscle responded. She exhaled relief and heaved a fresh lungful to steady herself, but no air came. Rolling over, she stared at the crushed plastic fragments of her filter canister. Instinct seized her. Hands flew to her face, fingers poised to claw away the barrier between her and the atmosphere. This is my punishment for returning to the Mother before she was ready, for thinking I knew better than nature—a choice between a suffocating death or an outcast mongrel life. A blurred figure landed in front of her, and Ash’s voice came dimly through the pounding of her blood: “Don’t! Just hold your breath a second. Trust me.” Hot pressure swelled in Skye’s chest, carbon dioxide hammering for release. Ash uncoiled a secondary tube from his own filter and plugged the free end into her mask. Air caressed her nose and mouth again. Skye gasped and swayed, clutching Ash’s arm to stay on her feet. He didn’t pull away. “You all right?” Skye nodded, tracing the tube in her mask to the canister on his belt. “What did you do?” “We can go tandem in emergencies. But it uses up the filter twice as fast, so —”

Mechanical spluttering overhead drowned his words. The quad’s engine choked, then went silent, and the vehicle dropped the last few meters with a dead clunk. “You know we’re already pushing our time!” Ash shouted at Linden through the doorless hatch. “A broken filter cuts that in half!” “You weren’t supposed to save her,” said Linden. “Always gotta be the hero, don’t you?” Ash threw up his hands. “What did you expect me to do?” “Be a captain and make some hard choices,” Willow snapped. “The Darksider is going to get recycled anyway once we’re back on Luna.” “We’re not on Luna,” Ash growled in the low, raw tone Skye now recognized as the closest he came to verbalized anger. “We’re still stuck on Earth, and she’s the only one who can signal for help and get us out of here.” Linden glowered. “I’m not waiting for her to save us. Those freaks could come back and murder me to keep me quiet.” Slinging a Hummingbird across his shoulder, he jumped down from the quad and trotted toward the open desert. “You can’t separate from your team!” Hazel called after him. “Dive together—” “That’s right. Dive together, not die together,” said Linden without turning around. “Wait up!” shouted Willow, snatching the last gun from inside the quad. “That’s mine!” Hazel yelped. “Then come along and put it to good use. If the quad can’t get us out of here, I’ll take my chances on foot.” Ash caught Willow’s arm. “Don’t. It’s too dangerous.” “What choice do we have? We can’t stay here and let Lily decide our fate.

She might’ve been the greatest diver of her generation, but she’s obviously crazy now.” Willow glared over her shoulder at the assembly building. “Maybe we’ll get back on the map by sunrise and Rowan will spot us.” “We don’t even know if our chips work after the crash. You might be invisible to the Vator, no matter how far west you go. Besides, you can’t navigate in the dark. You’ll end up at the base of a cliff with a broken neck.” Ash’s words had a halting cadence, as if the images they conjured hurt him. “What do you care? You brought us out here to die. I’m just following your orders, Captain.” Tearing free of his fingers, Willow started after Linden. Ash watched her go, then scowled at his boots. “Well, at least now we have the right number of engers,” said Skye with a mirthless laugh. “And a dead bird.” Hazel plopped herself in the hatchway. Failure indicators blazed on the consoles behind her, painting ruby veins in her hair. “Engine overheated and burned out. It’s my fault.” She broke down crying. “Hazel, it’s not your fault,” said Ash wearily. “I was the one who tried to cram all of us into the quad.” “No, I took out some of the heat diffs. They were heavy. I would never have stripped it down like that except I didn’t want to leave….” She cried harder, smearing the machine grease on her cheeks into a dark mess. Skye leaned against the hull. “How long have you liked Thorn?” Hazel scrubbed her sleeve angrily against her eyes. “As long as I can .” She glanced at Ash, daring his disapproval, but he just stared as if he’d never seen her before. “I promised myself I wouldn’t be one of those stupid moony kids. When I got assigned to his team I asked Rowan to switch me, but he wouldn’t do it.” Ash sighed. “That’s because you were a special request.” Hazel looked up at him through lashes beaded with bright tears. “What do you mean?”

“Your assignment wasn’t random. The program coordinators let Thorn shortlist new trainees for our team. He picked you.” Silence weighed in the air. Then Hazel burst into angry sobs again. “I wish I were a machine, like this stupid thing,” she said, slapping a palm against the quad’s metal floor. “Then I could just re-route a circuit and make all my non-primary functions stop running, and I wouldn’t have to feel like this anymore.” “You wouldn’t want that,” said Skye. “Why not?” “Look what happened after the crash. Instead of panicking, you pulled together and got the quad running because you wanted your team to survive. Caring about people didn’t make you weak, it gave you a reason to keep going. It made you stronger.” “That’s not the same thing at all,” said Hazel sulkily, but she seemed mollified. She gave a long, wet sniff. “You know, they never train us in how to clear snot from our masks.” A genuine smile slipped across Ash’s face. “It’ll dry.” “I might as well just take it off, since we’re going to be stuck here.” “No, we’re not,” said Skye. “I’ll go back to Goldstone and set up that rescue beacon.” Ash glanced at the shared filter on his belt and grimaced. “We don’t have time to stumble around the desert in the dark. I’ll have to convince Lily to take us.” He turned to Hazel. “Do what you can with the quad, even if it’s only breaking it down for parts. Maybe there’s something we can trade for age out of here.” Hazel nodded, wiped at her eyes one last time, and crawled back inside the vehicle. Ash and Skye started down the road together, the shared hose forcing them to match their strides. Ash let out a long, overwhelmed breath. “Hazel and Thorn. I can’t believe I

didn’t notice.” “I can’t believe you didn’t, either,” said Skye. “I figured it out before we even left the Vator. Stowing away to keep a promise to him, the pattern on her mask strap….” “Yeah, but we’ve all known each other since we were little kids. She’s two years younger than me and Thorn, but always wanted to play along in whatever we did.” “Did you let her?” “Of course not. Thorn would tease her about it and she’d get all stubborn and follow him around….” Ash rubbed his temples where the mask strap had etched deep grooves in his skin. “It seems obvious now. I guess I don’t think about that sort of thing.” “And you call me a liar!” Skye stepped in front of him, blocking his way. “What about you and Willow?” “There’s nothing going on with me and Willow.” “But you wish there were.” “That would be against the rules.” Skye rolled her eyes. “No wonder you Colonists need a Repro Lab.” Ash didn’t respond to the barb. He stopped walking and stared down the street, face drawn in concentration. “What is it?” Skye asked. After a long pause he murmured, “Voices.” Skye strained her ears. “I don’t hear anything.” “Lily’s arguing with someone. Her meeting must be in there.” He gestured to a narrow brick structure with a broken spire. “You can hear them at this distance? That Edge stuff must be quite

effective,” said Skye, raising an eyebrow. Ash’s wary glance flashed in the dark. “Hazel mentioned it before we left the Vator. Unless you’re genetically engineered to discern quad lights from stars, or recognize voices a hundred meters away….” “It’s no different than a headlamp or a filter. It’s a tool to help us accomplish our duty and stay alive.” Ash’s voice rang a little hollow, as though he were trying to convince himself as much as her. “It seems more likely to kill you, if what it’s doing to Linden is any indication.” “He’s an anomaly. Most divers who take it never have a problem.” “Have you?” Skye searched his face for a hint, but he pressed a finger to his mask strap, a command for silence as they approached the building. Jagged patterns of light spilled from the broken windows into the street. Skye spotted a heavy back door propped open to it the breeze and started toward it. The air hose yanked her sharply back. “Careful! You have to move with me,” said Ash, repositioning the canister on his belt. “I’ve had enough being cuffed to things,” she muttered, but focused on mirroring Ash’s movements as they slipped inside. Darkness swallowed them. Skye took two steps and swore as her shin slammed into a hard, angular object, earning her an anxious shushing noise from Ash. “I can’t see,” she hissed at him. “I can.” Something grasped at her fingers—Ash’s hand. She caught it and let him navigate the cluttered space. Voices hummed through the wall, urgent murmurs punctuated with strident interruptions. “Re-establishing communication with the Colony is the only way we’ll find out why we ended up here,” said Gin, almost pleading. “If those kids go back and tell everyone , the next visitors we get might be an extermination crew.” Ryll’s voice, cool and firm.

Soft light limned the door ahead of them. Skye and Ash peered through the crack into the large room beyond. Lily leaned against a low platform, arms folded as the people around her—some seated on the clean-swept floor, others pacing or perched on the long antique benches scattered around the room—argued. “Why would they send us down here just to kill us?” asked Ced. He bounced a child on each knee, the little girl from earlier and a drowsy toddler who looked like her younger brother. “It makes no sense. They probably have no idea we’re here at all. Once they do, we might get a wave of immigrants.” “That might be even worse,” said Jas. “Can you imagine the Colony trying to assume control and istrating us like a branch of the Shack?” “At least then we’d get to see our families again,” Kory countered. “This is your family.” Lily spoke quietly, but with enough force to hush the rest of the assembly. “Who took you in after the Colony abandoned you? Who ed your transformation into a whole new being? Taught you to survive beyond your little lunar terrarium?” Across the visible sliver of the room, heads nodded. Lily turned and looked directly at the door. “You could us too, Ash.” A whispered expletive brushed past Skye’s ear, then Ash nudged the door open. A few of the Tenax glared at them; most looked mildly amused. Ash walked right up to Lily. “You’re not going to let us go home, are you?” His hand gripped Skye’s so hard she almost gasped. “I don’t see how we can. Even if you try, you’d never keep this to yourselves. There are no secrets on the Shack,” said Lily. “Besides, wouldn’t you rather stay here with your brother? Think of what you could experience together. All those dives, but you don’t really know Earth at all. What can the Colony offer you that’s better than freedom?” Ash kept his mouth pressed in a firm line, but his downcast eyes and quickened breathing betrayed the effect of Lily’s words. “And you, Darksider.” Lily turned to Skye. “You said your people dream of

returning to Earth. Why not make it real?” Sunlight. Oxygen. Food to eat. Room to run. People who care whether I make it home every night. A lifetime of fantasies reeled in Skye’s mind. It could all be real, finally. I never have to set foot on dead, dusty Luna again. Why go back for the others? After how they’ve treated me the past five years, I owe them nothing…but I could give them everything. Skye swallowed hard. “Someone has to tell the others it’s time to return.” “Why is that your concern?” Lily waved a dismissive hand. “If they don’t have the courage to venture down here, like you did, that’s their loss.” “We can’t just turn our backs on the rest of humanity,” said Ash. Lily’s expression hardened. “Why not? That’s exactly what they did to us.” “That doesn’t mean we should—” Ash broke off, wincing. His head snapped toward the wall, free hand clutching at his ear. “What?” Skye asked. Dread washed over his face. “Everyone get out.” “Why, what’s going—” Walls quivered and the beams overhead began a discordant symphony of creaks. Oh, Mother, the building is collapsing! “You heard him—get outside now!” Lily shouted, leaping up to herd people toward the door. Skye bolted for the back exit through which they’d come, just as Ash lunged toward the front. The air hose jerked them both backward and they fell together in a heap. Chips of masonry rained from the ceiling. Strong fingers gripped Skye’s arm. “Hurry up,” Lily growled, her other hand hauling Ash upright by the strap of his armor. “I haven’t lost a kid yet, and I’m not—” A heart-stopping crack from above cut off her words. Strings of bulbs plummeted from the broken joists, constellations unraveling to shatter in darkness on the floor. Lily shoved Skye beneath one of the long benches.

Concrete scraped her cheek. I survive the crumbling lava tubes of Mare Ingenii only to get crushed by a building on Earth. The universe has a strange sense of humor. Ash tumbled halfway into the nook, crammed against her so tightly she could feel him trembling. Cries drowned in chaos as the world crashed down around them.

5

Traitor

Dust wove hypnotic fractals where the roof had been. The swirls drew Ash’s mind back into rhythm, senses and surroundings regaining focus. He turned his head carefully and assessed his position. One of the benches had sheltered him from the worst of the collapse. Across the room, broken beams segmented stars and shadows between them. Scattered tiles reminded him of the game he’d interrupted on the Vator. A pale figure moved at the fringe of his vision, brick in hand, arm raised to strike. The Darksider is going to bash in my skull and take the filter! He flung his arms up to protect his face and found they couldn’t move—a heavy joist lay across his torso, pinning him to the floor. He lay helpless as the brick swung down in a deadly arc. Stone struck dry wood with a crack. Splinters exploded, forcing Ash’s eyes shut. Heart and hammer pounded on either side of his ribs. With a brittle groan, the ancient beam split down the center. Pressure eased from his chest. “Too heavy to move in one piece,” Skye explained as she hauled the halves aside. Particles drifted from her eyelashes when she blinked at him, sticking to the bloody scrape on her cheek. “Are you all right?” Every breath brought a stab of pain. Ash probed his ribs and bit back a cry. “Sure,” he replied through his teeth. It’s probably just a fracture. The medbed back on the Vator will fix it in a few hours. Skye gave him a skeptical look, but didn’t press the matter. Hesitating, she stretched a hand toward him. Ash’s body ached too much to refuse. He let her pull him to his feet. Pain blazed through his chest. To distract himself, he unclipped the filter canister from his belt and tapped it clear, trying to ignore the indicator’s orange eye. “What happened?” Skye asked.

“A Hummingbird. I heard it just before the walls came down. Someone must’ve blasted the foundations outside.” “Someone? There are only three people it could have been.” Three people I thought I could trust. “Why would any of them want to hurt us?” “Maybe they weren’t after you,” said Skye, looking past him. Ash followed her gaze across the building’s ruined outlines to the road, where dazed figures huddled in knots. Jas clutched her bow, looking around for an attacker. A baby squalled in terror and Ced hushed it against his shoulder. Above the frightened murmurs, a steady female voice shouted: “Count off, everyone. Let’s make sure no one is trapped in the building.” That’s Ryll taking charge, not Lily. Where’s Lily? Ash’s brain groped through its stunned torpor. She tried to save us! He spun toward the platform. The building’s spire had plunged through the roof, skewering the place where Lily had last stood. An anomalous shape protruded from the rubble. Cold fear shot through Ash’s veins when he recognized a human arm. “Over here!” he croaked. Tripping over fallen beams to the spot, he began to dig. Torn metal bit his hands through the gloves. Beside him, Skye worked with a scavenger’s quickness. Anxious shadows pressed in around him—“Is someone under there? Good Goddard, we have to get her out!”—and several Tenax ed the excavation. Ash didn’t look to see who it was, just focused on the square meter of devastation glowing in the beam of his headlamp. A dozen hands whisked away debris. Ash and Skye heaved aside a slab of wall and someone let out a sob. Lily lay sprawled on her side, as though she’d curled up in defense and the building’s weight had flattened her into obedient prostration. A layer of dust dulled her skin. She stirred with a low moan and her double eyelids twitched open.

“Did everyone get out?” she murmured. “Just bruises and lots of jangled nerves. The kids didn’t get a scratch,” Ryll assured her, although her stricken expression didn’t match her easy tone. “The divers….” “We’re fine, thanks to you,” said Ash. “We won’t be if we stay much longer,” said Skye, lifting a finger to the ragged patches of roof fluttering ominously overhead. “We need to get out of here.” Dread blanched Lily’s face. “I can’t move my legs.” Kneeling, Ash lifted the torn edge of Lily’s tunic. A metal fragment the width of his hand poked from her lower back like a fin. Wide purple blotches discolored her torso. Bile stung Ash’s throat. Glancing around, he saw the same horrified recognition in other ex-divers’ faces. Ryll recovered first. “We need to move her out of here. Carefully. Kory, get that board over there. We’ll use it as a stretcher. Gin, go get Phlox. I know she should be resting, but she’s the only one who might be able to help.” She spoke with the brisk nervousness of a junior officer unexpectedly in command, and none of the others questioned her authority. In moments they’d extracted Lily from the wreckage and were carrying her down the road. “I’ve never seen injuries like that before,” Skye whispered, bringing up the rear with Ash. “There isn’t much opportunity for blunt force trauma in Luna’s gravity,” he told her. “But terranauts get it all the time. Buildings collapse, roads cave in…it’s a more common death than getting red-ringed. And a lot more painful.” “So you know how to treat someone when it happens?” “Yeah. Knock them out with sedatives and get them back to the Vator as fast as you can.” Which isn’t an option this time.

Phobos and Deimos trotted up to the stretcher. Their whimpering brought Hazel out of the quad. “Halley smokes, what happened?” “Building collapse,” said Ash. “Ash thought he heard—” Skye began, but he silenced her with a jab in the ribs. “—heard someone ask for bandages,” Ash finished, hoping Hazel wouldn’t notice the disconnect. “Do you still have your med kit?” Hazel nodded and unsnapped the pouch from her belt. “What else can I do?” “Hope.” Ash gathered the kit with Skye’s and his own, then followed the Tenax procession toward a nearby building. Skye stopped him just outside the door. “Why didn’t you tell her about the Hummingbird?” “Because she might’ve been the one who fired it,” said Ash grimly. “You can’t suspect Hazel! She’s the only person on your whole team who isn’t trying to undermine you. Not like the Vator traitor.” She giggled. “Vator traitor. That rhymes.” “What are you talking about?” Ash stared at her, nonplussed. Skye bit her lip, then confessed in a rush, “A few minutes before descent from GEO, I heard someone in the control room talking about GAEA. It sounded like they were planning something.” “Who was it?” “I don’t know.” “Who were they talking to?” “I don’t know! I only caught a few words through the bulkhead. Something

about having no loyalty and doing anything for a worthwhile future.” “And you didn’t bother mentioning this to me?” Skye used every millimeter of her scant height advantage to glare imperiously down at him. “If I had, would you have believed me?” Of course not. Annoyed, Ash shoved through the door and almost collided with a small, curvaceous woman. A wrinkly newborn dozed in a sling across her chest. “Ooh, give me those,” she breathed, plucking the med kits from his hands. Fatigue shadowed her eyes, but she appraised the items with sharp interest. “Are these the same kind we had when I dove?” “They’re standard issue,” Ash told her. “Antifungals, antibiotics, antihemorrhagics….” “Anti-breathing, anti-living. That’s the Colony for you.” She opened one of the packs and scanned its contents. “But they do make good painkillers.” “Colony doesn’t need drugs to make you numb,” said Lily from the center of the room. “That’s why we have to run away. Better to die in the wild….” Her voice dissolved into mumbles. “Dammit, she’s going into shock,” said the woman. “Take the baby, Xyris. I need my hands.” The man beside her man scooped the infant into his arms, which were inked with patterns like a terranaut’s mask strap. “Can you feel this?” the woman asked, probing the sole of Lily’s foot. “No.” “What about this?” Light glittered off the injection pen she slid into the back of Lily’s thigh. “Don’t play with me, Phlox. If you can’t repair me, decommission me,” said Lily. “None of your rotten poisonous berries, either—I want a nice clean shot through my skull.”

“No, you don’t,” said Ash. He crossed the room and crouched beside the stretcher, dragging Skye by the air hose behind him. “How do you know?” Lily asked petulantly. “After a decade of putting up with helpless kids, dying might finally get me some privacy.” “If you hate everyone so much, why did you save us when the roof came down?” “Told you. I haven’t lost a brat on Earth yet.” Her expression flickered between a scowl and a smile. “You may have broken my old record, but I wasn’t about to let you spoil my new one.” Salt stung Ash’s eyes. He gripped her hand. “You’ll only add to it. Now that we’ve found you again, a lot more people might need your help adapting to Earth.” “They can meet me at the Needle. We’ll go swimming in the sound….” Lily’s words drifted into addled memory again. Her breaths, quick and shallow, took on a steady rhythm and her fingers softened in Ash’s palm. Phlox gazed iringly at the pen. “So much better than roots and herbs.” “Who taught you to be a medic?” Ash asked, watching her cut the bloody leather from Lily’s back with a small, sharp knife. She can’t be older than Valerian, so she couldn’t have gotten any training. “I did. In my GAEA days, I had my sights set on a health center apprenticeship, so I spent all my time between dives studying anatomy and physiology.” Phlox gave a short laugh. “I cared more about that than the missions, which is probably why I got careless and ended up red-ringed.” “Thank Goddard you did, or half of us wouldn’t be here,” said Xy. “She may not be one of those robotic surgeons back home, but she’s got gifted hands.” “Maybe not gifted enough for this,” said Phlox, frowning at Lily. “Bring the light closer, please, and give us some space.” Ced herded the fretful onlookers outside while Ryll stationed herself with a

solar lantern, illuminating the angles Phlox directed. The women orbited the stretcher like moons caught in the gravity of a dying star. Ash pressed himself into the wall, trying to take up as little room as possible while Skye fidgeted beside him. At last Phlox sat back on her heels and sighed. “I think that metal shard damaged the nerves in her spine. That’s why she can’t walk. If I remove it, it might only make things worse. She could lose the use of her arms as well as her legs.” “Paralyzed? Permanently?” asked Ryll, holding the lamp closer as if the light could rinse away Lily’s wounds. “She won’t want to live like that.” “She won’t have to. See those bruises on her back and belly?” Phlox indicated the spreading violet contusions. “Internal bleeding, I’m sure of it. I don’t have the tools to fix that.” “We do,” said Ash. The Tenax women flicked their eerie eyes to him. “Medbeds are built for that kind of surgery. If we treat her quickly enough, it might even be able to repair her spinal cord.” Xy shook his head. “She’d kill us for sending her back to the Vator.” “At least she’ll be alive to try,” said Ryll. She clenched her fist. “We can’t lose her. If there’s a chance you can help her, Ash, we’ll take it.” “Did you forget that we have no means of transportation?” Skye hissed in his ear. “We have you.” Ash turned to the adults. “If you let us go to Goldstone, we can signal for help and have Lily out of here by morning.” Ryll folded her arms. “How do we know you won’t just take off by yourselves and leave her to die?” “Because I’ll stay behind,” said Hazel, her sudden appearance making Ash start. She’d slipped into the back of the room without a sound, a small shadow overlooked in the corner. “They won’t go back to the Vator without me. Right?”

“Of course not,” said Skye, and Ash nodded assent. “Will you agree to that?” Hazel asked Ryll. “I’ll be your hostage until they get back.” Ryll looked at Phlox, and they both looked back at Lily’s broken body. “There’s nothing to lose but time,” said the healer after a moment. “I can’t tell how bad the bleeding is, but you should hurry.” “We’ll run as fast as we can,” said Ash. Impossibly, Ryll smiled. “Who said anything about running?”

⁂

“I’d rather be running,” Ash shouted in Skye’s ear. The wind sucked his words back toward the sleeping dawn as Lily’s sled raced over the sand. He clung to the handlebar, struggling to keep his boots aligned on one footboard while the Darksider balanced effortlessly on the other. Moonlight rolled off the backs of four coywolves in the traces—a few minutes’ improvisation had added an extra pair of harnesses, giving Phobos and Deimos two companions to speed their travel. Skye flashed him an exhilarated grin, her eyes wild and bright. “Running would take too long and probably burn through what’s left of our filter.” Which isn’t much. Ash peeled one hand free to examine the canister and a bump in the terrain almost knocked him off the sled; Skye grabbed his elbow and hauled him back up to the bar. “Checking it won’t turn it green again,” she yelled over the wind. “It was orange when we left the fort and it’s orange now.” “Orange with a black rim.” Ash stared at the dark veins creeping imperceptibly farther with each inhalation.

“Fine. Tell me when I need to start holding my breath.” The desert reeled by as vast and black as space. Sand grains stung Ash’s eyes, forcing him to wear the tinted goggles that left him almost blind in the dark. I can see why those extra eyelids are useful out here. He strained his gaze toward the horizon. Edge tingled in his optic nerves and outlined a pale shape in the distance—the unmistakable curve of a radio dish. “There.” He pointed. Skye tried to imitate the tongue click they’d heard Lily give earlier that day. It didn’t sound quite right through her mask, but the wolves accepted it and the whole contraption surged forward. A few minutes later they hurtled into the compound. The sled halted and Ash staggered off the runners. The world slid around him, upset by the sudden deceleration. “Thank Goddard that’s over.” “Why?” Skye gave each of the wolves a grateful pat as she freed them from the traces. “I wish I could have a sled back on Luna instead of a pokey old rover.” “Humans weren’t meant to go that fast.” “You travel in quads and space shuttles! And the Vator must go at least two hundred kilometers an hour.” “All of those have hulls.” Skye rolled her eyes. “Then let’s set up that beacon so you don’t have to ride the sled back to the fort.” She opened one of her suit’s cargo pockets, revealing a nest of wires and batteries reclaimed from the dead quad. “Hazel lent me her tool kit, too, so I’ve got everything we need.” “Almost.” Ash dug the microchip from his own pocket and held it out to her. A curious half-smile crossed Skye’s face. She stared at the chip for a

moment, then tucked it away, laughing. “What’s funny?” “All those years I spent chasing a rogue signal from Earth, and now I’m sending —what’s wrong?” Pained whimpers rose up from the coywolves. They pawed at their ears, yowling. A high-pitched whine jabbed Ash’s brain for the second time that night. Not again! Seizing Skye, he slammed them both to the ground. Vibrations tore through the spot where they’d stood. “It wasn’t supposed to happen this way, Ash.” The familiar voice echoed off the concrete walls. No. It can’t be. Rolling onto his stomach, he swung his headlamp toward the building. The sniper cast a defiant silhouette against the slivered moon. “You were always the quiet one,” said Willow. Starlight blurred on the trembling barrel of her gun. “Couldn’t you just die quietly, too?” How can it be her? She was my first pick for the team! Skye squinted up at the rooftop, more amused than surprised. “Looks like I was right about a traitor on the team.” “Yes, and I’m looking at him,” Willow spat. “How could you, Ash? Plotting with a Darksider, defying orders, threatening to undermine the entire Mars plan?” “Is that what your friends back on Luna told you?” Skye asked coolly. “That was you I heard in the Vator’s comm room, wasn’t it?” Ash stared up at Willow. Say no. Say you’re just scared, or angry at me, and

we can work it all out. But her baleful expression withered his last fragile hope for her absolution. “I couldn’t let you destroy the Colony,” said Willow, not taking her eyes from Ash. “I had to report you, and when I did, I was told to make sure you didn’t come back.” Events collided in Ash’s mind and his fingers clenched. “You crashed the quads on purpose! You would have killed two other people, just to get me?” “A Darksider and a weed. Small sacrifices to preserve the Colony. If Dill hadn’t lost his nerve at the last minute—” “Dill?” Skye repeated, incredulous. “He wanted to kill us in the ready room!” “Messing around on the Vator is different than knocking teammates out of the sky.” Linden materialized against the bunker behind Ash and Skye, blocking their path back to the sled. “He tried to take over the controls and was out of his harness when we hit.” “I told you, that wasn’t supposed to happen,” Willow snapped at him. The words reverberated in Ash’s memory: Willow, stunned and haunted, piling stones on Dill’s cairn. It wasn’t just grief, it was guilt—recruiting her teammates so she could control the mission. She planned the whole thing from the minute I asked her to come. Realization sank its merciless fangs into Ash’s heart. And I let her steer me exactly where she wanted, because I didn’t want to take charge. All of this is my fault. “Why didn’t you just kill me after the crash and be done with it?” he asked bitterly. “Because shooting a rat or a coywolf is one thing, but someone who stares back as you pull the trigger?” Skye flicked her gaze between Linden and Willow. “Better to destroy their quad or bury them all under an old building, so you don’t have to see their faces. You might be selfish, but you’re not killers.” “What about Lily? Dozens of people could have died in that collapse!” Ash

ground his teeth. “If someone on Luna didn’t want me to go on this mission, why let me reach Earth at all?” “Because everyone loves you,” Willow snarled. The Hummingbird trembled in her grip and she clutched it harder against her shoulder. “If you’re hauled back to the Shack in shame, people will want to know why. They might sympathize with your disobeying orders. But if you die on Earth chasing specimens for GAEA—” “He’ll be a martyr for Mars. Much more useful,” Skye agreed. “I imagine your Colonists will find a great deal of inspiration in the tale of three self-sacrificing heroes.” “Three?” Willow frowned. “You and Linden must’ve run the whole way to beat us here. That’s a lot of strain on your filters. They must be nearly black by now.” Linden’s hand dropped from his gun to clutch his canister, and Skye smiled innocently. “There’s no way you have enough time to hike back into signal range. But maybe if you apologize to the Tenax, they’ll take care of you while the Spores settle into your lungs and—” Linden jerked the weapon and the rest of Skye’s threat dissolved in a scream—hers, or Ash’s own, he couldn’t tell. The sonic beam twisted his stomach and flattened his lungs. His blood quivered, his organs threatened to burst. Asynchronous pounding, the dizzy panic of his heart, filled his ears. Far away, Willow yelled something unintelligible. The pain ebbed. Ash opened his eyes and saw Skye uncurling a few inches away, her face covered in sand and agony. “Are you all right?” Ash whispered. She nodded and exhaled two syllables so soft he might have imagined them: “Trust me.” Before Ash could ask what she’d meant, she burst out laughing. Did the sound waves damage her brain? “You don’t want to hurt me, Linden,” said Skye, levering herself up on one

elbow. “I’m the only person who can get you out of here.” Linden snorted. “What are you talking about?” “I’ve got your ticket home.” She dipped shaking fingers into her pocket and pulled out Dill’s microchip, holding it high for the others to see. The other two exchanged an uneasy look. “And what do you want in return?” asked Willow, suspicious. “The same thing I’ve wanted since the moment I set foot in your miserable Colony—to escape Luna and live here on Earth. I’ll get you back to your home, and you can leave me here on mine.” She wants to stay? But the Tenax disgusted her! Why would she change her mind? “What about Ash?” asked Linden. Skye glanced at Ash, expressionless. His headlamp washed out all her features except for the stormy eyes fixed on his. In the kind of unspoken exchange he’d only ever shared with his twin, he knew what she wanted him to do. But why? How is that going to help? “He’s expended his usefulness to me,” said Skye. “Kill him if you want, I don’t care.” Ash hesitated an instant, then launched himself at her. He expected one of the lithe maneuvers from their past two skirmishes, but instead Skye let him knock her down. They flailed at one another in a flurry of sand. “Stop! If you lose that chip we’ll never get home!” Linden bolted over to break up the fight and Skye flung sand into his face. He howled and clawed at his eyes. Willow gave an angry shriek, but Skye was already up, dragging Ash behind the nearest bunker. She kicked away the drifts blocking the door and seized the handle. It crumbled in her grip. Cursing, she jammed her hand inside the hole. Corroded metal chewed through glove and flesh— her fingers gleamed red in the headlamp—but she yanked the door open.

Oppressive heat engulfed them. Ash glimpsed old furniture covered in thick layers of dust before Skye slapped the toggles on their headlamps, cloaking them with darkness. “It’ll take her a minute to get off the roof and come after us.” She grinned apologetically. “I know I promised not to beat you up anymore, but it was the best I could think of on the spot.” “For a minute I thought…at the fort, it seemed like you really might want to stay here,” said Ash. “What I want doesn’t matter.” A sliver of moonlight through the door split Skye’s face in hemispheres of light and darkness. “If I don’t go back, my people will never know it’s possible to live on Earth. They’ll go extinct in the lava tunnels and never even have a chance.” Putting her colony first, even when they treat her like scum. If she’d been born in the Shack, she would’ve made a good terranaut. Maybe even someone I’d want on my team. Ash shook his head. “I still haven’t figured you out, Darksider.” “You can work on that after we figure out how to escape your friends outside.” Skye felt around the wall. “This building must have another exit. Maybe we can reach the sled.” “If we run now, it was all for nothing. Lily will die, Hazel will be stuck here for the rest of her life, and countless more divers will be lost because no one on Luna will know what’s really happening.” Consequences tumbled out of him, gathering speed with his emotions. “You have to send that signal.” “Then we have to get past Linden and Willow.” “We can’t fight like this,” said Ash, fingering the tandem air line. “We’re too clumsy tethered together. They’d outflank us in a minute.” “So what do we do?” Make the hard decisions, like I should have done from the start.

Ash took a breath to steady himself. For a moment, the dark shapes in the bunker transformed into a lunar landscape, bluffs and craters and dusty grey plains etched against the remorseless black sky. Fern’s face, the longworn mask of suppressed anguish, shimmered in his mind. He sent his mother a mental apology, willing his thoughts to transcend kilometers and find their way to her. Then he reached up and peeled the mask from his face. It fell away with a hiss—the broken vacuum seal, or Skye’s gasp, perhaps both in synchrony. Ash breathed in. Hot, musty air swirled down his throat. The dull metallic tang of cement and old electronics coated his mouth. Not all that different from the Shack. The discovery was simultaneously disappointing and reassuring. “You idiot,” said Skye softly. “Separating is the only way we’ll beat them.” “Then you should have let me unmask. There are worse fates for me than staying here.” “You said yourself that if you stay, the other Dar…people out on the maria won’t know about Earth. They need you, but the Colony doesn’t need me. Bringing Lily back to the Vator will be enough to make Rowan start asking questions. And if he needs more proof, I’ll go back myself in a month or two and show off my new bonus eyelids.” Ash forced a laugh, trying not to think about the Spores rushing through his respiratory system and mingling their genes with his. “But you can never go back to Luna now,” Skye whispered. “None of us will, if you don’t get to that radio dish.” Tossing away his mask, Ash clipped the canister to Skye’s belt. “They’ll be expecting us together, so if I can lure them to me, you can sneak around. I’ll hold them here as long as I can, but if I fail….” He pressed his dive knife into her hand. The blazing determination in her face seemed to light the darkness more brightly than any lamp. “Just , you have something they don’t.”

“What’s that?” “Lungs full of Spores.” Ash frowned, but detected no trace of her usual flippancy. “I mean you don’t have to worry anymore about filters or respiration rates or getting red-ringed back on the platform. You’re free. In a way, you’ve already won.” She melted away, leaving Ash in the sudden crush of his own thoughts. Her words illuminated his turbulent mind like sun on the peaks of Shackleton Crater, chasing back the shadows. The nagging paranoia that always accompanied him on Earth evaporated and left a sensation of physical lightness. What’s left to be afraid of now? What can those two possibly do to me? He flicked on his headlamp and pointed it toward the crack in the entranceway. Long breathless minutes slid by. At last he heard whispers outside. The Hummingbirds squealed a duet and the brittle old door disintegrated. Two beams punctured the dust, pinning Ash to the wall. “Nice try, but you can’t outrun us on a tandem filter. It’s—” Willow jerked backward, eyes wide in horror. “Ash! Where’s your mask?” “Where’s the Darksider?” asked Linden. He swept his light over the room. “She took off with the chip!” Spinning wildly around, he charged into the night. Willow turned to call after him. “Come back here—we don’t need her!” In her second of distraction, Ash leapt up and snatched the lamp from her forehead. Blackness swallowed them. I still have an advantage in the dark. He bolted for the corridor, Willow stumbling and cursing behind him.

6

Breathe

As-per-gill-us. Can’t-go-home-now. Stu-pid-brave-boy. Fragmented thoughts pounded in time with Skye’s feet, sprinting over the dark sand. Air came a little more easily through her mask now that she alone drew on the filter, but it tasted bitter. Worry about it later. Activate that beacon, or it’s all for nothing anyway. Beyond the flat bunker roofs, the radio dish carved a white arc against the stars. Skye shinnied up the ladder—the climb seemed quick now that there was no need to feign gravity weakness—and leapt the rickety steps in pairs until she reached the service platform. The equipment hung open from her earlier visit, its array of tiny indicator lights flickering in the dark. “I hate to meddle with you after you’ve managed to keep functioning for a hundred years,” Skye told it, prying off the casing to expose the circuitboard beneath. “Please give me just a few minutes more.” She scooped the spare parts from her pocket and set to work. The headlamp cast a white halo over her fingers as she spun a delicate web into the dish’s electrical heart. “Just like wiring equipment on the Ship back home,” she told herself. The scaffold quivered and her tool nearly punctured the microchip. “Damn wind,” she muttered, then paused. Dread seeped through her. Wind doesn’t have footsteps. She peered over the platform’s edge and her light shone down the flared maw of a Hummingbird. With a yelp she scrambled back until her shoulder blades pressed against the base of the dish. Nowhere to go! “Earth’s not the perfect green world you expected, is it, Darksider?” Linden clomped up the stairs, bloodshot eyes glaring over the rim of his mask. “So you stole Ash’s filter to get your own sorry ass back to Luna.”

“No. I’m trying to get all of us back to Luna.” Skye eyed the gun. Talk is the only weapon I’ve got. “Don’t you want to go home?” “That’s all I want every time,” said Linden, a ragged edge in his voice. “Every damn trip. I hate drinking my own recycled piss and fighting with my friends for stats and worrying that every breath I take might fill my lungs with Spores. I hate diving.” “Then why volunteer to go with Ash?” “Willow said if we stopped him, we’d be heroes and never have to dive again.” “And who on Luna promised her that?” asked Skye. When Linden hesitated, she needled him. “Willow didn’t even tell you, did she? She doesn’t trust you—she just used you so she could control the team. You’re her pet, trained and obedient as Lily’s coywolves, only less intelligent.” Rage warped Linden’s face, but Skye anticipated him this time. When his raised the Hummingbird to fire, she launched herself through the gap beneath his arm. The shot went high, bouncing off the parabolic dish. They both tumbled backward down the stairs and Skye slammed onto the lower platform. Pain burst through her bones. At least my fight with Ash up here was a fair one—he didn’t have a gun! Fight with Ash. Gun. Linden knelt on her knees, pawing at her pockets. “Where’s the chip? Give it to me. I wanna go home. I’m not gonna be another doomed lump of carbon on this planet.” Skye seized his ears, forcing him to look at her. Hysteria frayed his breath into a hot, erratic tide on her face. “We can all go home if you let me up. It’s not too late. Help me finish wiring the dish and—” Clammy hands closed around her throat, choking off her words. Skye thrashed, but Linden leaned his weight into her windpipe. Stars blurred in

the indigo sweep behind him. Constellations turned to faces: Geneva. Santiago. Madurai. Then others, unexpected: Lily. Hazel. Ash. All of them will suffer if I don’t send that signal! Temper ignited her muscles. She strained a hand toward her belt, caught the hilt of Ash’s knife, and whipped it upward. The edge grazed Linden’s cheek. He sprang off her with a yell, clutching the mask against his face. Skye scrambled up and absorbed her options in a blink. Going back up to the platform will only trap me again. I can’t get past Linden to the ladder. The only way out is…. A dry breeze ruffled the hair on her neck. She glanced backward over the railing. The ground was at least three times the distance she’d fallen from the quad earlier. But sand is soft. That’ll ease the impact…won’t it? A clicking sound turned her head. Linden’s shaking hands turned up the intensity dial on his Hummingbird. Gripping the rail, Skye vaulted into empty air. Heartbeats pounded in her ears, amplified in silent freefall. The ground hurtled toward her for the second time that day. Impact rocked her body and bolts of agony shot up her leg. She cried out before she could stop herself. Far above, she heard Linden swearing. He’ll be down here in a few seconds. She tried to stand and yelped again as the injured leg gave under her. The GEO medic’s voice echoed through her mind: You’re osteoporotic from growing up in low gravity. A good fall could easily break your bones…. Gritting her teeth, Skye crawled on her elbows toward the ladder. Beneath its warm surface the sand felt cool, almost liquid on her skin. She spread her fingers, digging through the grains. A smooth object met her touch. Boots clanged on metal and Linden jumped the last few rungs to land in front of her.

“Guess gravity got you back for faking it before,” he said, a trace of the old cockiness returning as he loomed over her. He aimed his weapon’s flared barrel at her chest. “I like it when things come around.” “Me too,” said Skye. She reared back onto her heels, pulling Ash’s lost Hummingbird level in a shower of sand. Is it powered? Primed? Jammed with debris and totally useless? She didn’t have time to check, only to squeeze the trigger in time with Linden. Behind the bunkers, the coywolves howled in protest as an ultrasonic whine pierced the night.

⁂

The shadows were losing their shapes, outlines melting into blackness as Ash plunged into a maze of dead computer terminals. He crept toward the far side, feeling for a door. If I can trap Willow in here somehow, and get outside to help Skye, we might have a chance. But the wall beneath his fingertips remained an uninterrupted expanse of dust. Footsteps came serpent-soft into the room. “I won’t make you suffer,” Willow called, a quiver in her voice. “I’ll even tell everyone you died trying to save your team, a hero to the last.” “That’s what really bothers you, isn’t it?” Ash slid around desks as he spoke, doing a shadowy dance with Willow’s spectral form. “For Goddard’s sake, Willow, it’s not worth killing each other over some stupid numbers.” A bitter laugh resounded off the ceiling. “Isn’t that what GAEA is all about?

You don’t know what it’s like, always being in second place.” Ash snorted. “I’m a twin—I was born in second place. But I don’t blame my brother for that. Why do you blame me?” As Willow launched into a response, he scurried for the door. Spasms clenched him, bones quaking under his skin. I didn’t even hear it that time! It’s gone, all gone, I’m gone…. When the pain subsided, he found his face against the floor, breathing in century-old grime. Boot tips appeared in his vision. “Did you think you were the only one who can see in the dark?” asked Willow. She knelt between Ash’s shoulder blades, holding him down. “I’ll tell you a secret—Edge is a lot more effective when you don’t take it for kicks between dives.” Metal purred as she drew the specimen knife from her belt. Hot, clammy fingers brushed Ash’s skin. Less than twenty-four hours ago I held that hand on the Vator platform. Now it’s going to slit my throat. “I won’t let your GAEA work to go waste,” Willow whispered. “I’ve been promised the apprenticeship with Juniper for this, so I’ll create all kinds of terraforming species from your discoveries. I’ll even name one after you.” The blade trembled against his neck. Ash braced himself for its deadly bite. His senses suddenly seemed sharper than any Edge high, grasping for final details: Willow’s bootstraps digging into his spine, the flat taste of dust, a low droning sound from the nearby shadows. What is that? The noise intensified, surging toward an ominous crescendo. “Who’s there?” Willow raised the knife reflexively to defend herself and Ash threw her off as half the terminals around them erupted. Azure light cascaded from the rows of screens, processors humming awake. A nearby monitor announced: NEW INPUT ACQUIRED. PREPARING TO TRANSMIT.

She did it! Thank Goddard, she did it. “No!” Willow shrieked in rage and bolted from the room. Grabbing the edge of a desk, Ash pulled himself upright. I can’t let Willow stop that signal. He hurried out into the quadrangle. Willow dashed between the bunkers, heading for the radio dish, and he sprinted after her. Air flowed into him, unimpeded by any hose. No filter curtailed his breathing. Each effortless inhalation propelled him faster than he’d ever thought he could go. Meters flew under his feet. When the broken chain-link fence reared up from the sand, he leapt over it in a single bound without fear of tangled hoses. He could count the leaves on Willow’s mask strap as he surged ahead to the ladder, blocking her way. “Think about what you’re doing,” he said as she staggered to a halt in front of him. The massive dish groaned overhead, raining rust as it tilted to a new angle. “This is our only chance to get home.” “Not you. Not Dill. And not me, if I fail my orders,” Willow wheezed through her mask. Frustrated tears gleamed on her lashes. “They’ll assign me to GEO or the Vator and I’ll spend the rest of my life floating in a box, forgotten. No, you’ve pushed me aside for long enough.” Moonlight splintered on the knife as she lunged. A sharp whistle rang from overhead. Howling echoed back in response, and a heartbeat later Lily’s coywolves burst out of the dark. Willow screamed. She turned her blade toward the charging animals for an instant, realized its futility, and fled. Four grey blurs streaked after her. Ash watched until the chase dissolved at the limit of his vision. Then all the turgor seemed to drain from his muscles and he sagged against the ladder rungs. His pulse calmed, leaving a renewed awareness of pain in his fractured ribs. Night air cleansed his throat with a faint mineral flavor. So that’s what Earth tastes like. I’ll have to tell— “Skye?” he called. His voice sounded strange. It wasn’t muffled like it was inside the mask, or stunted like within the walls of a habitat. It rang out into space and didn’t return, at once expansive and incredibly small. Fragments of a

reply drifted back to him on the wind. Ignoring the weary burn in his muscles, Ash climbed to the top platform. Skye slumped against the dish’s base, wires from the control coiling in her lap. She looked paler than he’d ever seen her and her right foot twisted out at an odd angle, but triumph lit her face. “That’s the first time you called me by my name,” she said, grinning at him from behind a tangled curtain of hair. “That’s the first time you saved my life.” Ash knelt to examine her ankle. “What happened?” She winced and slapped his hand away. “Gravity.” “I thought maybe Linden caught up with you.” “He did.” “Where’d he go?” “Crazy.” Skye gave a weak giggle. “I gave him a taste of his own medicine with the Hummingbird you left here yesterday. Barely pulled the trigger, but I guess he wasn’t used to the receiving end. He just sort of lost it and took off. Maybe Edge corroded his brain after all.” “Edge, or maybe just all the lies we’ve been told,” said Ash bitterly. “About Spores, and GAEA, and who knows what else.” “And you can expose it all when we get back to the Vator. Don’t worry, Ash. We’ll get the truth.” Smiling seemed easier without a mask. He let it spread across his face, warm as sunlight. “You said we.”

⁂

“What does Earth air smell like?” Skye asked drowsily, sweeping the grey western sky for quad lights. Her eyes, strained from hours of the vigil, struggled to focus. Ash stifled a yawn and repositioned his back against the railing. “Alive.” “That isn’t a smell!” “I don’t know how else to describe it. It’s like stone—not the stale ones on Luna—sharper, mixed with ozone and a kind of dusty plant fragrance. More components than I can identify.” Ash rubbed at his chest, frowning. “But I’ve got a long time to figure them out.” Skye shifted to look at him. Without the mask, his profile stood out clean against the high clouds, angles emerging from the traces of childlike fullness. “I’m a little jealous,” she itted. “You want nostril slits and nictitating eye membranes?” “At least then no one on Luna could deny our discovery.” Skye gnawed on her sunburnt lips. “I don’t know how I’ll make either the Colonists or the Exiles listen to me.” Mischief turned up the corners of Ash’s mouth. “They won’t have a choice. You talk a lot.” Skye kicked at his foot, their boots colliding with a clunk. “Regardless of quantity, talk alone won’t convince anyone. I need proof.” “The Darksiders took most of the original genetic archive when they split from the Colony, right?” Ash raised his palms in defense when Skye shot him a nasty look. “Hear me out. If they’ve preserved pure old specimens, maybe they have a sample of Aspergillus before it mutated. You could compare its DNA sequence to the new one. Neither of our communities would refute that kind of evidence.” “Don’t be so sure,” Skye muttered. Madurai will try to dismiss it as a trick. I’ll have to confront her in front of everyone, again.

The memory of their last public clash—sobbing in a cold cavern while the tribunal hung back and stared—left her mouth dry. She took a sip from her hydration tube, but only a few tepid drops landed on her tongue. This time I’ll have to win. Shutting her eyes, she ran through arguments that elided into unsettled dreams. When Ash spoke again, she twitched out of a doze and found her cheek resting on his shoulder armor. “Hey, Skye.” Her name still sounded odd in his voice. It lacked the softness of Geneva’s pronunciation—she’d always lingered on the s. But he didn’t emphasize the k as Madurai did, snapping the name like a broken cord. Ash somehow encomed all four letters in one syllable, balancing the disparate sounds into a single harmonious note. It sounds nice that way. “Skye. Turn around.” Pain echoed in her body as she stirred, but weariness made it distant and bearable. She twisted to glance over the railing and her mouth fell open. A molten sphere crowned the eastern hills, spilling fire along the horizon. Long wisps of cloud radiated from this golden core, striated with rose and azure. Stars fled before the tide of color. “Not many people on Luna have seen a sunrise like that,” said Ash. “How can that be just scattered light and particles?” Skye breathed. “This must be the most beautiful place on all of Earth.” Ash laughed. “There are lots of other biomes.” “You don’t like the desert?” “Except for the sky, it’s not much different from Luna. I used to imagine that Mars would look a lot like this. Guess I’ll never know now.”

“But think of all the other places you’ll see, like…” Skye flipped through the historical images in her head. “…forests.” “Not many of those left.” “Grasslands.” “Most are dust fields now.” “And tundra.” “Those melted ages ago. But I did see snow once.” “Really?” Skye leaned her head against the rail and let the exotic sunrise bathe her face. “Tell me.” Frozen crystals falling from the clouds; trees that grew twisted through city ruins and roofed the broken buildings with their green canopies; vast fields where yellow grass grew shoulder-high through the cracked pavement and rippled like water in the breeze. Ash described them all in detail, and her imagination painted them on the vivid canvas of dawn until a pair of quads hummed in from the west.

7

Discovery

“Easy…watch the hatch…okay, don’t let her head hit….” Ced muttered directions for every step as he and Ryll carried Lily aboard the quad. His partner caught Skye’s gaze and rolled her eyes, but beneath the look of affectionate exasperation, concern tautened her face. They revere Lily like the Exiles at home do Madurai. Only it’s more than just fear and awe. It’s…. Skye struggled to identify the element. It came to her in a pang of sadness, attached to Geneva’s face in her mind. Love. She’s like a parent to the whole group. These strangers are more family to each other than my own grandmother is to me. Hazel prodded her with a wrench, dispelling her rueful thoughts. “Hold this,” she ordered, then helped maneuver the stretcher into place; she’d removed two of the quad’s three built-in seats to accommodate it. Good thing Rowan sent replacements for both quads. What will he think when, instead of his six terranauts, he gets three survivors and a dying mutant? Skye glanced at Lily, who lay motionless on her stomach. The metal shard in her back rose and fell gently with her breath. She didn’t stir as Hazel secured the stretcher. “Are you sure about this contraption?” asked Ced, frowning at the web of modified flight harnesses. Hazel nodded. “It’ll hold, as long as we fly smoothly and Lily stays still.” “We gave her another sedative injection,” Ryll itted. “It should keep her out until you reach the Vator.” “Glad she’ll be far away when she wakes up, because otherwise she’d kill us.” Ced chuckled weakly. “Then we should take off as soon as we can,” said Skye. “Where’s Ash?”

“With Thorn.” Hazel readjusted the buckles, not looking up. “Phlox says his fever broke and he’s awake now.” “Did you talk to him?” “There’s nothing to say.” “All right, but someone has to fetch Ash, and I can’t walk over there by myself.” Skye indicated her ankle, splinted with plastic and leather. Sighing, Hazel offered her an arm and they limped across the road. Scraps of conversation drifted from the doorway. “That’s a crater-brained plan, Ash.” Thorn’s voice, rough with illness, still carried. “Why do that to yourself?” “It’s the only way to prove what’s happening, and maybe give us a clue who’s behind it,” said Ash, his characteristically soft tone harder to hear. “There’s gotta be a better way to figure that out.” “Can you think of one?” “Probably,” said Skye, poking her head inside. The boys turned toward her, somber. “Maybe we can discuss it on the flight—we’re all ready to go.” “Hey, weed.” Thorn’s eyes, milky with forming membranes, brightened when he spotted Hazel. “I thought I told you to keep Ash from doing anything stupid? Now he’s gone and turned himself into a monster.” “Then you’ll still be identical,” said Hazel tartly. Hurt and hilarity mingled on Thorn’s face. “I was only joking.” Hazel scowled at the floor. “So was I.” Uncomfortable silence filled the space behind her words. Ash glanced between his brother and his friend, clearly unsure whom to . Instead he turned to Skye. “Have Gin and Jas come back yet?” “No.” Skye slid down the wall to sit.

“We should wait a little longer, give them more time.” “I don’t see why,” said Hazel. “Linden and Willow tried to kill everyone here. Who cares if they get lost in the desert?” “They’re still terranauts,” Ash reminded her, although his face tightened at the words. “Dive together—” “I don’t want to hear that stupid Goddard-damned rhyme ever again,” Hazel cut him off. “Half my team tried to kill the other half. Of all the lies they’ve fed us, survive together is the biggest of all.” “We don’t leave anyone behind,” said Ash through his teeth. “Except you two.” Hazel’s smoldering gaze switched from Thorn to Ash and back again. She wavered a moment, shaking with unspoken anger, then stormed out. “She always hated it when we left her out of our games,” said Thorn with a thin laugh. “She’ll get to play if we wait much longer.” Skye held up her filter canister, displaying the black indicator with its angry orange pupil. “All right, we’ll go,” said Ash. He looked down at his brother, reluctant, but Thorn waved him away. “Go save the Colony already. I’ll be here when you get back, making extra eyelids look incredibly handsome.” Skye studied him for a quizzical moment. How can this boy possibly have the same DNA as Ash? Ash, who replied only with a faint smile and held out a hand to pull Skye gingerly upright. Pain blazed through her shin; she bit back a curse. “ yesterday, when you said it would be faster if you carried me?” she asked, wincing. “You swore to do something violent to me if I did.”

“Yes, but this time I really can’t walk very well.” Amusement shimmered in Ash’s brown eyes. Skye braced for a dry retort, but he made none. Instead he turned around, stooped, and lifted her onto his back. “You two could feature in the Shack’s next series of morale posters,” Thorn observed. He framed them with his fingers. “Near side, far side, allied.” “More like untried,” Ash grunted. “And undignified,” said Skye, clutching for a grip on Ash’s armor. Thorn laughed himself into a coughing fit. “If you shake up the Shack half as much as you did my brother, Darksider, you’ll knock Luna out of orbit,” he said when he’d recovered. “Wish I could be there to see it.” His sanguine tone faltered, and Skye caught a flash of despair on his face that made him resemble Ash for the first time. Ash a few weeks from now, infected and beginning to mutate. A tiny shudder ran through her, and her fingers dug a little more tightly into Ash’s shoulders. “I’ll be back soon,” Ash promised his brother. “ what we talked about.” The twins shared a glance as full of coded meaning as any radio wave, then Ash trudged out into the sunlight. “What were you two plotting?” Skye asked when they were out of earshot. “Nothing.” She pinched his arm, making him yelp. “If we are allied, we have to share plans.” A few heavy steps in silence, then Ash sighed. “I had an idea about how to —” Triumphant howls erupted nearby, drawing their attention. A pair of

coywolf sleds, with Gin and Jas on the runners, hurtled down the street. One carried a slumped figure in the cargo space. “You found them?” Ash called out as they reined to a halt. “Just one,” said Gin, gesturing to her enger. Ash grasped a sleeve and shook it. “Linden, can you hear me?” The other boy didn’t respond, just stared blankly ahead. “He was curled up under a rock when we found him,” Jas explained. “Didn’t say a word the whole trip home. He doesn’t seem to be injured, though.” “What about Willow?” asked Ash. Gin shook her head. “We covered a pretty wide radius, but we didn’t see her anywhere.” Skye felt a subtle droop in Ash’s spine. Disappointment, or relief? “You did all you could,” he told the girls. “If you find her after we leave….” “We’ll look after her like we have all the other red-ringed kids,” said Jas. “It’s what Lily would’ve wanted.” “Wants,” Gin hissed, elbowing her friend. “She’s still alive, crater-brain.” “And I’ll do whatever I can to keep her that way,” said Ash. He stuck his head into the first quad’s open hatch. “Hazel! Fire up the rotors. Let’s go.”

⁂

De-con pods glinted like a row of sharp teeth as the quads landed on the Vator’s anchor platform. Ash popped the hatch and hot air rushed into the cabin. He breathed in, noting the hint of brine.

That must be what the ocean smells like! An ember of interest flickered amid the cold resignation he’d held close for the entire flight. He ducked out of the quad as Hazel disembarked from the second vehicle a few meters away. “Lily okay?” he shouted over the drone of slowing rotors. “She’s breathing, if that’s what you mean,” Hazel yelled back. Together they bore the stretcher carefully outside—Lily made a soft, tormented sound when they lifted her—and set it on one of the deck’s few shaded spots. Skye hopped after them, looking pained but determined, and peeled back the cloth over Lily’s waist. “The hemorrhaging looks worse.” “Let’s hope we’re not too late,” said Ash, striding over to the deposit box. He reached instinctively for his backpack before ing he didn’t have any specimens this time. None that fit in vials, anyway. The comm screen snapped on and Rowan appeared, furious and drawn. “Ash, what in the blasted universe happened? You all drop off the map for almost a full day, then suddenly a tracking signal blows up my control , and—” He caught his breath, gaping. “Your mask!” “Better to die in the wild than live in a cage, isn’t that what you told me?” said Ash. Bleak eyes bored into his. “Tell me you didn’t destroy yourself for some stupid old diver joke.” “It wasn’t a joke, though, was it? It was a pact.” “I don’t know what you’re….” Ash stood aside so the video feed could take in the platform behind him, where Lily lay.

Color drained from Rowan’s face, leaving him the same grey as the static. “Goddard’s ghost, that’s not…it can’t be.” “She’s badly hurt. I know we can’t bring her into the Vator, but we can treat her out here if—” Rowan stood abruptly and disappeared. The monitor showed an empty control room. “Hey!” Ash rapped knuckles on the screen. “Rowan, she’ll die if we don’t help her!” The dive coordinator didn’t return. Cursing under his breath, Ash went back to the quad. “Hazel, can you bring the med-bed out here?” She dashed to the nearest pod while Ash climbed inside the vehicle. Linden still slumped in his harness, vacant. “At least there’s no line for de-con this time,” said Ash, striving for Thorn’s easy tone and earning no response. Sighing, he slung Linden’s limp arm over his shoulder and dragged the catatonic boy across the deck. Agony ignited in his ribs. He ground his teeth and propped Linden in a stall. “This had better wake you up.” The first spray caught Linden full in the face. He stirred, moving a slow hand to his eyes. Then muscle memory took over and he began mechanically shedding his uniform pieces, still gazing at the wall. “What’s wrong with him?” asked Skye. “No idea,” said Ash, watching chemical solution drip into Linden’s slack mouth. “Valerian will have to evaluate him back on GEO. Something must’ve happened after he ran off into the desert.” “Lucky he didn’t get lost out there.” Skye paused, sneaking a sideways glance at him. “I’m sorry about Willow.” Ash studied a crack in the platform’s surface. “She might still be out there. Her filter would be shot by now, but apparently that’s not as fatal as it used to be.”

“You might get another opportunity with her, then. As Earthlings,” said Skye in a flat tone that didn’t match the encouraging words. He shook his head. “Even if the Tenax accept her after she tried to kill them, I don’t see how I could ever trust her again.” “It wouldn’t be the first time you gave an enemy a chance. Although you really should have learned your lesson about that. You trusted me, and now look what’s happened.” Skye poked him lightly on the nose. “I’ll be all right,” said Ash, with more confidence than he felt. “Just don’t waste my noble sacrifice, okay? Go de-con before your filter dies.” Skye folded her arms. “Then what?” “You go back to the Shack and….” Idea and sentence dissolved. How can a Darksider, a weed, and maybe the dive coordinator convince the entire Colony to believe this story? Even if they succeed, what will Everest do about the Tenax? Or the Darksiders? “Don’t worry. I’m good at improvising,” said Skye, correctly interpreting his silence. “I know.” She tipped back her head to gaze at the frothy cirrus clouds. “Whatever happens up there, I want to come back to Earth eventually. She’s completely different than what I was told, but that just makes me more curious to know what she’s really like.” Ash watched the white-blond hair whip around Skye’s face in the breeze. “I know what you mean.” A loud hiss from the airlock made them both start. “That can’t be Hazel. She just went through the tunnel,” said Ash. “No way she suited up again already.” The door rumbled open and a long capsule clattered out on spindly wheels, a tall shadow pushing it from behind.

“Rowan!” Ash cried. “What are you doing out here?” “Pushing a heavy med-bed in full gravity. Come help me.” “Adults aren’t supposed to get atmospheric exposure! You’re not even wearing a proper suit!” “It’s not going to kill me in ten minutes. This isn’t my first surface walk. I know what I’m doing,” Rowan growled through his mask. He tossed Ash a thick power cable. “Run this to one of the quad charging docks.” Ash caught the coil around his arm and obeyed. “Did Hazel get inside all right?” Skye asked behind him. “Feisty as ever. Found her trying to haul the med-bed out of our clinic herself with one good hand,” Rowan replied. “How’d she get hurt? And what happened to Linden? He was sitting in the tunnel, staring at his toes. Where’s Willow?” “We’ll explain.” “How can you possibly explain any of this?” asked Rowan. Trotting back, Ash found him crouched beside the stretcher. With shaking fingers, he brushed one of the rough patches on Lily’s cheek. A visible jolt ran up his back as the protective eye membranes shivered open, but he didn’t move away. Lily pushed herself groggily onto her side. Confusion swirled in her eyes for a moment, then her gaze locked onto Rowan. “You.” She whispered the word like a malediction. Rowan took her hand and she yanked it away. “You never came.” “I tried to. It wasn’t—” “We made a pact, and you abandoned me.” “I never abandoned you,” said Rowan, with a ionate rawness Ash hadn’t known his dry voice could possess. “Damn my stars, Lily, you’ve been with me every miserable day and night for the past twenty-five years.”

“Well, it ends today.” Lily looked past him to the ocean at the platform’s edge. “I told them not to bring me here. But there’s no point hauling me back now. Just let me sink in the sea, like I always wanted.” “Like hell I will,” said Rowan savagely. “I’m not losing you a second time.” Before Lily could retort, he lifted her in his arms. She gave a canine yelp and tugged at his mask strap. “Put me down or I’ll expose you.” “Still the same hard-ass captain you always were.” “I’m not a captain anymore.” “You are to all the others back at the fort,” said Ash.“The Tenax are your team now, and captains don’t give up on their teams.” “Empty colony brainwashing,” Lily muttered. But she didn’t resist further as Rowan laid her on the molded plastic bed and initiated the diagnostic program. The top slid down, sealing Lily inside. Bars of light combed over her body while small robotic instruments skittered out to probe her. “I always hated this thing,” she said, her voice muted behind the dome. “I got injured on a dive once and spent days in here, thinking I’d take my last breath in an oversized test tube. That’s when I decided I didn’t want to die in a cage.” She tried to laugh, but only managed a shallow wheezing. “If the med-bed can’t fix you, I promise to unplug it and chuck you in the ocean myself,” said Rowan. Lily’s smile glinted as sharp as the syringe gliding into her arm. “We both know you don’t keep your promises.” Her eyelids fluttered again and her tense jaw softened in sleep. Ash rounded on Rowan. “Why didn’t you ever tell me you knew her?” “Because it would’ve shown what a hypocrite I am. Thanks to her, I broke just about every rule I preach to you brats.” “Were you really going to escape to Earth together?” Skye asked him,

sounding intrigued. Rowan stared at Lily’s unconscious form. “I’d have dived into the sun with her if she’d asked. That kind of devotion makes you stupid. When I tried to slip away and meet her on the day we’d chosen, I got careless and hurt myself bad. Woke up back on the Vator. My team had saved me, or they thought they had. I planned to get away on the next dive and look for Lily, but there wasn’t a next dive for me. I got grounded.” His fists clenched and unclenched on top of the med-bed’s touchscreen. “I drove myself crazy, thinking about how she died alone down here.” “You didn’t know she survived?” said Ash, exchanging glances with Skye. If he didn’t know, then he can’t be the one lying about Spores. “If I had, I’d have gone after her. Why do you think I became the dive coordinator? Living in the Vator felt like the closest I could get to staying with her on Earth like I promised.” Beads of moisture glistened around the rim of his mask—Ash couldn’t tell if they were tears or just sweat from the humid day. Results flashed on the display, casting a corona of light around Rowan’s hands. He scrolled through the readout. “She’s in bad shape. What happened? Where did you find her? How is any of this possible?” “We were hoping you’d know.” As concisely as he could, Ash recounted their expedition, pausing every few sentences to relinquish narration to Skye—not surprisingly, she seemed more comfortable with storytelling than he was. When they’d finished, Rowan stood silent for a long time. The medbed whirred and clicked beside him. Automated surgical tools probed Lily’s injuries. Intravenous tubes sprouted from the walls and attached to her veins. “They’re alive?” Rowan said at last. “All those kids I thought I’d lost?” “Someone knew they were there. And I think I know how we can figure it out.” Ash took a deep breath. “I’m going to get myself red-ringed.” “Why?” Skye snapped toward him. “You’ll just get jettisoned.” “Exactly. And you can analyze the whole thing. Those pods can’t fly off to

Goldstone automatically. They’d need a program, coordinates, some kind of authorization. You could trace all that stuff, right?” Rowan shook his head. “Most of the Vator’s operation runs through GEO. All I do is press a few buttons. I can’t access the main programs at that level.” “I can,” said Skye. “Let a Darksider fiddle around with the Colony’s most important technological asset?” Rowan snorted. “Why should I trust you?” “Because I do,” said Ash, raising his eyes to meet Skye’s. Gemstone hardness shone back at him and he looked away, unable to bear the intensity. Rowan cursed and flung up his hands. “Sure, why not? If Colony leadership has been lying to us all this time, maybe our enemies aren’t who we thought they were.” He ran a palm over his close-cut hair. “Might as well try. There’s nothing else I can do for you, now that you’re—” “Yes, there is,” Ash cut him off. “Take care of Lily and give her a quad to fly home when she’s healed. Give the syzygy medal to my mom like I asked before. Tell her Thorn is okay, he loves her and doesn’t want her to be sad about him. Make sure Hazel doesn’t get in trouble for being involved in this, because we’d all be dead in the desert if not for her. And don’t let security toss Skye in a cell the minute you land on Luna. She’s the only one who can get proof of the Aspergillus evolution from the Darksiders and persuade everyone of what we’ve found.” The words tumbled out in a torrent, more than Ash could speaking at once in his life. It left him breathless and unsteady. There are so many things I never bothered to say, and now there isn’t time. “Consider it done.” Rowan looked down at Lily again. “Of all the discoveries you’ve made, Ash, this is—” “The last,” said Ash. “Make it count.” He extended his hand to shake, but Rowan brushed it aside.

“This isn’t a goodbye. You’re just going on an extended surface expedition.” He cuffed Ash’s shoulder and stepped into a de-con pod. The door sealed behind him, leaving Ash and Skye alone on the platform. “You should go, too,” said Ash, nodding to the canister on her belt. Long black veins reached into the indicator’s orange core. She turned it in her hands. “It never would have gotten both of us back here, would it?” “Probably not.” Ash gazed toward the invisible shore. A phantom arc of moon hung in the vast blue. Luna might as well be Mars to me now—a faraway fantasy world I’ll never get to see. “You won’t be alone, you know. Not like Lily was for all those years. You’ll have Thorn, and all the other divers. And once people on Luna learn about this, they’ll probably want to you.” Skye’s speech accelerated as if determined to fill the space between them. “Maybe Hazel and I can come visit and bring new equipment for Goldstone. We could set up some kind of satellite link so you can communicate with Luna and—” “It’s okay, Skye.” She bit her lip, stemming the words. It didn’t hold long. “It’s my fault. If I’d told you in the first place why I wanted to reach Earth, maybe we’d have planned things differently.” “We never would have planned anything, because I wouldn’t have believed you. I’d just be popping Edge and missing my brother,” said Ash. “And this might’ve happened to me anyway. The way I dove, it was only a matter of time before I got red-ringed. At least this accomplishes something.” “It will,” said Skye, her stubborn face incandescent in the dawn. “I’ll make sure of it, no matter what Madurai or anyone else says.” “That I do believe.” Ash smiled. “You made a pretty good terranaut. I bet you’ll make a pretty good rebel leader, too.” Skye laughed. “And I’m certain you’ll make an excellent Earthling. Just promise me you’ll do one thing.”

“What’s that?” She leaned in until the rubber surface of her mask grazed his ear. “Learn to drive that coywolf sled. It might be the most fun thing on the entire planet.” The absurdity of her request unlocked the tightness in Ash’s chest and drew out relieved laughter. She left him that way, hopping into the pod before he could say anything else. When the door shut behind her, she glanced back at him through the transparent wall. Her blue eyes no longer unsettled him— after the reptilian eyes of the Tenax, they looked positively normal. Human. When swirls of steam obscured her face, Ash slouched back to the med-bed and sat against it, the machine’s purring under his back. “Do you ever regret it, Lily?” he asked. “Would you go back to Luna now if you could?” The only response was the chitter and whir of robotic surgeons. Ash stared up the Vator’s ribbon. Morning sun refracted along its length, glittering into the atmosphere. I won’t miss those long, boring rides. Or the cramped habitats. Or the lousy rations. Or being Everest’s morale-booster. There isn’t anything I mind leaving on Luna, really, except some people. Mom. Violet. Rowan. Hazel. Maybe even…. The de-con pod pinged completion. He looked up and saw Skye limp into the corridor. She’ll be ready to analyze the pod program in a few minutes. Anxiety seized him and he had to clutch the med-bed to stand. “See you back at the fort, I guess,” he told Lily, and walked over to the monitor on unsteady boots. After a moment Rowan appeared, shiny-faced and scowling. “I forgot how much those chemical showers sting,” he grumbled. He punched a few commands into an off-screen keyboard and shoved back his chair. “Have at it, Darksider.”

Skye appeared in the frame beside him. Tucking damp hair behind her ears, she began typing furiously. She muttered to herself as her fingers flew, then slammed her palm on the desk so hard it made them both jump. “Got it. Now we can see every command in the de-con program as it progresses and—” Rowan waved a hand. “I don’t want a telecommunications lesson. I believe you.” He turned back to Ash. “We’re ready when you are. If you’ve changed your mind, that’s fine. We can just—” “I haven’t.” Ash struggled to think of something else to say, some clever or sincere last words to leave with them, but all the thoughts roiling in his brain refused to cohere. So he just nodded. As he walked away, he thought Skye murmured something behind him. It sounded like May the Mother embrace you, but it might have been only static. His hand shook above the button for the pod. Thorn’s terrified face appeared in his mind, pounding uselessly on the wall before sinking to the floor. This will be different. I know what’s coming. I’ll wake up at Goldstone and Thorn will have sent someone to pick me up, like I asked. There’s nothing to be afraid of. But the tremors crept up his fingers and spread through his body. He glanced around for a distraction and his gaze fell on the sea. Patterns of light on the water shone like reassuring winks from a thousand blue eyes. Swallowing hard, Ash entered the pod and let the door seal him inside. He executed the process from habit, each scalding step routine. He held the ocean image in his mind, trying to imitate the deep, formless strength concealed beneath its shimmering skin. When the dryer jet shut off and the mouthpiece extended toward him, his mind felt as raw as his body. Cleansed. New. Pure. Hah. With only a heartbeat of hesitation, he exhaled into the tube. The ring of lights spun.

And spun. And spun And…. “No respiratory contaminants detected.” “What?” Ash shook the liquid from his ears. I took off my mask. I breathed Earth air. How can I be uninfected? He tried to breathe into the mouthpiece again, but it retracted. The tunnel door popped open. “Decontamination complete,” said the recorded voice. “That’s impossible!” Ash told it. “Please exit the pod.” The silent hallway stretched in front of him, waiting. Ash raised one foot slowly from the chemical puddles. No alarm sounded. He moved the other. No gas vents opened in the walls. But how…. Visceral relief swept all inquiry from his mind, and he stumbled up the corridor as fast as he could go.

IV. Escape Velocity

1

Clean

NO RESPIRATORY CONTAMINANTS DETECTED. The readout on the monitor burned into Skye’s retinas. Green indicators blinked on the diagram of the de-con pods outside. “That’s impossible,” she whispered, hammering commands for details into the keyboard. “How can Ash be clean?” “I don’t know,” said Rowan. He leaned toward the monitor with his mouth open. “I’ve spent years in front of this murderous program. It doesn’t make mistakes.” “But I saw him take off his mask and breathe in a lungful of Spores!” Skye launched herself off the stool and landed on her broken ankle, biting back a cry. Rowan lifted her easily. “Don’t they feed kids on the dark side?” He carried her out of the control room and they took the lift down through the Vator’s levels. It seemed to descend in slow motion, Skye’s mind racing ahead. It must be a malfunction. He’s unconscious on the floor of the pod, or it’s already jettisoned him into the desert and— The doors scraped open on the ready room and her lungs became a vacuum. Amid the empty lockers and equipment racks stood Ash, half dressed in one of the faded green jumpsuits, staring at the sleeves as though unsure what to do with them. He raised his head at the sound of the lift. A helpless, haunted look blanked his face. “What did you do?” he asked, voice soft and hoarse. “Cancel the infection control protocol to get me inside? Because if you did, then we’re all—” “I didn’t do anything,” said Skye. Hot blood suffused her face in a dizzy mix

of relief and annoyance. “Maybe you didn’t do the procedure correctly. Or there’s a flaw in the program. Or….” “Or it finally worked,” said Rowan, setting Skye carefully on one of the benches. “What worked?” asked Ash numbly. The dive coordinator stared at him, eyes wide. “The vaccine.” “Vaccine?” Skye repeated. The word echoed in the cavernous ready room. “Against the Spores?” Sunset-colored bruises on Ash’s ribs swelled and shrank with each erratic breath. “You experimented on us?” “It was the only way.” Rowan dropped his gaze to the floor, scowling. “Everest would never have approved a proper drug trial. He’d have called it a distraction from the Mars program, a waste of resources. We had to keep it a secret.” “We?” Skye pounced on the pronoun. “Me and Juniper.” Ash made a strangled sound. “Juniper’s involved in it, too?” “She’s certainly no stranger to unwitting subjects,” Skye muttered, touching the divot in her thigh from the chief geneticist’s forcible biopsy. “I’m not smart enough to play with antigens and concoct serums. That’s her area,” said Rowan. “All I do is supply her with your medical data and ister the doses.” “The prophylactic shots before dives.” Ash lifted a hand to rub the injection site on his neck. Rowan nodded. “Nutrients, stimulants, and the latest attempt to induce immunity against acute invasive aspergillosis.” The clinical fell bitterly off his tongue.

“If it’s in our shots, why did Thorn still get infected?” “Different trial batch. When he got red-ringed, it was obvious that formula was no good, so we gave your team a newer one.” Rowan shook his head, exhaling slowly. “After a decade of failures, maybe we finally got it right.” “That’s what you and Juniper were arguing about in the corridor after the medal ceremony.” Overhead lights cast sinister shadows on Ash’s face, and his bare shoulders shook. “She said it was your idea! How could you do that to us?” “What, try to save you from hacking up your own bloody lungs or getting gassed in a pod?” Rowan snapped. “Hate me for it if you want. I’ll still do my damnedest to make sure you enjoy many long years of loathing. Starting with something for your ribs.” “You think I’m going to take more medicines from you, after you used us as petri dishes? We didn’t even need a vaccine, since Spores apparently don’t kill us like we were told. Any other lies you want to explain?” Ash struggled into the jumpsuit sleeves at last, but his trembling fingers wouldn’t work the front closure. Hasn’t he had enough being stubborn for one day? Limping over, Skye detached Ash’s hands from the zipper and drew it up to his collar. His skin, still raw from the chemical shower, cast a warm aura over her hands. “Spores may not be fatal, but the Exiles would never accept mutation to survive on Earth,” she told him quietly. “With a vaccine, though…think about what it means!” “It means another person I trusted betrayed me.” Glaring at Rowan over her shoulder, Ash pulled away and strode out of the ready room. “Ash!” Skye took a step after him and cursed as her ankle gave beneath her. Rowan caught her elbow. “Let him go. He needs a good sulk to get his head straight. Been that way since he was a weed. He’ll talk when he’s ready.”

“So never,” Skye muttered. “Got him figured, haven’t you?” said Rowan with a dry snort of laughter. “In any case, you can’t chase him down if you can’t walk. Let’s see what we can do about that foot.” “I thought you only had one med-bed.” “Yes, which makes it useless when every dive brings back a dozen kids with scrapes and sprains. It’s more efficient to treat small injuries with oldfashioned first aid. I may not be a surgical robot, but I’ve had years of practice.” The swollen t hurt too much to argue. Skye hobbled into the adjacent sickbay. A discolored patch on the tile showed where Rowan had pried the med-bed out of its bolts. Hauling herself onto the steel exam table, Skye glanced at the bunks along the opposite wall and started. Linden lay motionless on the bottom mattress, empty eyes fixed on the bed frame above him. “He hasn’t moved since I carried him back from de-con,” said Rowan, noting the direction of her stare. “He’s physically fine, except for a lot of junk in his blood. Must’ve overdosed on Edge.” “I heard the others talking about that,” said Skye, keeping her voice carefully level. “Did they tell you a few kids die every year from ingesting some kind of unregulated crap? I confiscate any drugs I find on them, but half the time I don’t even know what to look for. Amphetamines, nootropics, steroids… every crop of divers has its own trend. Whenever I find the source and shut it down, one of the newly grounded kids turns entrepreneurial and starts cooking up cocktails for his buddies on the Vator.” Rowan checked Linden’s pulse and sighed. “If the chemicals affected his brain, there’s not much I can do for him. He’ll need a proper medic on GEO. But broken bones I can handle.” Rummaging in a drawer, he pulled out a small diagnostic scanner and held it over Skye’s foot. “You’ve got a nice fracture, but nothing’s misaligned. Whoever made that splint you had on outside did a decent job of it.”

“That was Phlox. She’s the Tenax medic.” “I her. Bright kid, always sneaking in here to play with the equipment. One time she convinced a boy named Xyris to get in the medbed so she could practice scanning him. I don’t know how, but somehow she accidentally turned on the acupuncture mode.” Rowan chuckled as he dug an immobilization boot out of a cabinet stuffed with first aid paraphernalia. “Never heard yelling like that in my life. I don’t think Xyris spoke to Phlox again—she got red-ringed a few months after that episode.” “I think he forgave her.” Skye studied the sad, nostalgic smile softening Rowan’s face. “You care a lot about the divers, don’t you.” “Anyone would,” said Rowan, with a shrug that didn’t match the fierce note in his voice. “The Colony forces these kids to risk their lives before they’ve even begun, and twice a week they march out that airlock cracking jokes and boasting. They’re the bravest people in the Colony, and by extension in the human race—although I can’t speak for your Darksiders.” Skye shook her head. “My people are cowards who can barely think for themselves.” “Not all of them. Enemy or not, you’ve got guts to rival any terranaut I’ve known, and that’s saying a lot,” Rowan told her briskly. “Now, I can give you some synthetic osteoblasts to speed up the healing, but I know you weren’t keen on getting shots when you left for the dive.” “You didn’t tell me it was a secret vaccine,” said Skye. If I’d taken it, I could have Aspergillus immunity right now! I could carry proof home to the others in my blood. But I missed my chance, because I was too worried it might have engineered components—because Madurai is still stuck in my head. “Maybe you should give me that, too, just in case,” she chanced, wincing slightly as the first shot punctured her calf. “See, this is why I didn’t tell the kids about the vaccine. Heroic little snots would’ve taken off their masks on every trip to test their immunity.” Rowan slid the immobilization boot gingerly over Skye’s foot and cinched the plastic plates snug. “The shots were precautionary only—if a diver happened to get exposed, maybe it would save them. I would never deliberately infect my kids just to test a formula.”

“Someone did.” The retort echoed through the ceiling grates. Rowan’s head snapped up. “Hazel!” he called back, his expression folding into one of weary vexation. “What did I tell you about crawling through the Goddard-damned ducts?” He strode back into the ready room and Skye hopped after him. Legs dangled from an open in the ceiling. “You got yourself in, I should make you get yourself out,” Rowan told the flailing feet sourly. “I’m not stuck, it’s this—” the air duct muffled an impressive string of profanity “—stupid tank.” “What tank?” Standing on the bench, he gripped the back of Hazel’s jumpsuit and hauled her free. Grim satisfaction shone on her dirty face. “I got one of the gas tanks hooked to the de-con pods.” Rowan peered into the hatch and pulled out a scratched steel cylinder. “This thing is almost as tall as you are—you dragged it all the way back with a bad wrist?” he asked her, his tone more impressed than onishing. “You wouldn’t have believed me otherwise,” said Hazel, wiping her forehead and leaving a grease smudge behind. Skye took the tank Rowan handed down and laid it on the floor. A peeling label glared up at her. “C22H28N2O,” she read aloud. “What’s that, a serial number?” “The chemical notation for fentanyl,” said Rowan. “Medics use it for anesthetic. It’s usually intravenous, like what the med-bed used on Lily, but I’ve seen it used in a vapor form, too.” “Ever since we found Thorn—” Hazel pronounced his name with a barely noticeable hitch in her voice “—I’ve been thinking that red-ringed kids couldn’t be poisoned like we thought. So I checked out the maintenance shaft to see what the pods used. And I was right. It’s just knockout gas.”

“Who installs the tanks?” asked Skye, running her fingers over the faded characters. “The maintenance crew on GEO. My mom did it for a few years. She told me everyone hated tank duty because it felt like they were murdering kids. They just swapped ‘em out as fast as they could and tried not to think about it.” Hazel bit her lip. “I bet none of the mechanics look too closely at the tanks they’re given.” “All those parts get shipped out from the Shack, and the blue tunics for every molecule of our resources. This wouldn’t happen by accident.” Dark rage swept across Rowan’s face. “If Juniper was red-ringing my kids to test that vaccine, I’ll….” The rest of his threat dissolved in a wordless growl as he marched into the lift. Skye and Hazel barely slipped in before the doors shut. “What are you going to do?” Hazel asked. “Make a call to Luna.” Rowan stormed through the main level with fists at his sides, Hazel trotting to keep pace. Both outdistanced Skye easily—by the time she limped into the comm room behind them, Rowan was already pounding the keyboard and cursing. “Downlink failure? Of all the days to have a system outage or some worthless tech asleep at his station.” He punched a few alternate commands, then shoved back from the terminal in disgust. Skye tried the computer, confirmed the malfunction, and sighed. “What are you going to do?” “I’m going to splint Hazel’s wrist before she breaks it off entirely, go check on Linden and Lily, and make sure all of you get some rest. You’ve been awake for almost forty-eight hours. By the time you sleep it off, this piece of junk will probably be working fine.” Placing a hand on each of the girls’ shoulders, he steered them out of the room. Skye paused outside the neighboring door. I’d rather stay awake for a week than go back in that makeshift cell. Rowan must have guessed her mind, because he shook his head. “You acted like a true diver out there, saving your team. As far as I’m concerned,

you’re one of my terranauts. Dorms are on the next floor.” Relieved, Skye made her ponderous way to the level above, her boot scraping forlornly in corridors still speckled with chrome from the Vator’s halcyon years. Finally she reached an entrance with no door, only a frame. Rows of bunks crammed the long room. Something about all the tousled, abandoned beds unsettled her. The walls, graffitied with dates and initials, seemed to amplify the emptiness. How many kids who slept in these beds died on Earth? Or worse, died on Luna and never knew this kind of freedom again? A gentle snort turned her head—Ash lay curled on a top bunk, asleep. “Wake up,” she whispered, eager to tell him about Hazel’s discovery. But not so much as an eyelash stirred. In the silence, Skye’s body began asserting itself: dehydration, bruises, the ache in her ankle. Fatigue weighed heavier than gravity on her limbs. She sank onto the bunk beneath Ash’s and let unconsciousness take her.

⁂

Thorn sighed, fogging his mask. “Don’t put it all on yourself to save the human race, okay? We’re in it together. What’s left of us.” He stepped into the de-con pod. “Don’t!” Ash shouted. “There’s a vaccine now. You don’t have to be stuck on Earth forever. We don’t have to be separated….” But his brother was already sealed inside the deadly cocoon. The mouthpiece extended with heartless precision. Thorn sighed into it, a ring of red lights flared… And Ash’s eyes flew open to sterile ceiling s overhead, his fingernails embedded in a sleeping bag limp with sweat.

Living that scene was bad enough—why do I have to dream it, too? As the hammering of his pulse subsided, a softer rhythm found its way to Ash’s ears: someone breathing in the bunk below. Groggy hope ignited every nerve of his body. He’s still there! Maybe this whole thing was just a nightmare. “Hey, Thorn!” He hung his head over the rail. Sleepy blue eyes blinked up at him. Reality flooded back with the ache in his injured ribs. Guess there’s no waking up from that. Skye’s face peeked over the edge of his mattress. “I didn’t know that was his bunk,” she said, apologetic. “It’s okay. I just…I think I slept too much.” Ash squinted at the chronometer fixed over the dormitory door and forced his torpid brain to calculate how much time had elapsed. “Almost a whole day. Quark me.” “Hazel told me all you do on your non-dive days is sleep and eat.” Skye yawned, stretching her arms. “Where does the second one come in? I’m starved.” “I’ll show you the canteen. Should we wake her, too?” Ash nodded to the adjacent bunk, where Hazel sprawled with a newly splinted wrist dangling off the bed. “No, she probably needs to sleep,” said Skye. “She came in last of all three of us.” “Why, what happened?” She told him in low, quick tones. De-con pods. Fentanyl. Jammed signals. Facts and implications collided like asteroids in Ash’s head. His brain felt thick, unable to keep up. Skye looked at him expectantly. “What do you think?” “I can’t think,” said Ash, scrubbing at his face.

“You’re probably hungry. We can talk about it while we eat.” “Go ahead. I’ll catch up.” When Skye narrowed her eyes, he added, “I’m fine. I just need a minute to wake up.” She shrugged and levered herself up from the bunk, moving gingerly on an immobilized foot. Ash waited until she disappeared through the door, then plunged a hand into his pillowcase. You said you were done after that last dive, said the onishing voice in the back of his mind. I thought that might be the last dive. But with everything happening now, I need to think clearly. His fingers found the extra Edge pills Valerian had given him. Fishing one out, he popped it into his mouth and swallowed before he could second-guess the decision. He climbed down stiffly and left the dormitory. Skye stood only a few meters down the hall, watching the door. A faint line formed between her eyebrows. “I told you I’d catch up,” said Ash, drawing even with her. “I’m slow.” She indicated the boot and limped to the lift as if to prove it. “But it doesn’t hurt much now. Rowan is a surprisingly competent field medic.” “Yeah, he’s really good at injecting people with experimental drugs,” Ash muttered, summoning the lift and stepping inside. Skye gazed thoughtfully at her boot. “I think he was just trying to protect you. You should at least give him a chance to explain.” “I don’t care why he did it. He used us.” She folded her arms. “You thought that about me until I told you the whole story.” You were an enemy who turned out to be someone I could rely on. The reverse is a lot harder to overcome. The lift shuddered open on the deserted canteen. Nothing moved except the sea beyond the panoramic windows.

“This is where you eat?” Skye asked, her mouth falling open. “If you want to call it that. Eating requires real food.” Moving to a small meal preparation area, Ash demonstrated how to rehydrate the dinners. “Fair warning, it all comes from genetically engineered crops.” Skye shot him an arch look. “After what I saw at Goldstone, a few hybridized plants are the least of my concerns.” “Then you won’t complain about these anymore.” Ash lobbed a pitaya over the counter at her. She stepped back to snatch the fruit from mid-air, then yelped as her foot skidded under her. “What are all these?” she asked, nudging a small rectangular object with her toe. Ash stooped and picked up the tile. Dozens of others littered the floor around a misaligned corner table. He turned the game piece in his fingers. “Pieces of the world we just shattered.” Skye collected the tiles and dumped them on the bar counter with a clatter of magnets. “Teach me.” They played through a second round of meals while the Pacific writhed outside, grey foam seething over the swells as if the ocean were trying to scrub itself clean. “Do you wish you were out there now?” Skye asked, pausing in her tile selection to stare out at the sea. “That the vaccine hadn’t worked?” “I don’t know,” Ash confessed. “When I thought I’d been exposed, I talked myself into all the good things about living on Earth, like having my brother back. But once I was standing in front of that pod….” He shuddered and laid his piece. “I know what you mean. I thought my plan to reach Earth was quite clever until your officers hauled me into the airlock and I realized the whole thing might just be crazy.” “It was. But it worked.”

Skye grinned at him, then played her last piece in a daring gambit and stole the game. Ash groaned. “You’ve only been playing for an hour! How can you—” He broke off in a yell as a strange hand reached over his shoulder. Whirling on his stool, he almost collided with Linden. “Does Rowan know you’re out of sickbay?” asked Ash, taking a deep breath to calm his hammering pulse. Linden didn’t respond, just stared blankly at the game board. It’s my fault he’s like this. I’m the one who led him out there. Ash sighed. “Come on, let’s get you something to eat.” He took Linden by the arm, but Skye pulled his hand away. “Wait,” she whispered. Long minutes ed while Linden examined at the tiles and finally pushed one into place. “That’s a good move,” Skye lied encouragingly. She played a tile herself. “What are you doing?” Ash murmured low against her ear. Brilliant curiosity lit her face. “Human telemetry. Some part of his brain still recognizes this game, and it’s transmitting to a place our words haven’t been able to reach.” Tile by tile, a tessellation bloomed on the bar. Linden’s responses quickened with every turn. Light kindled in his dull eyes. Blocking Skye’s move brought traces of a smile to his sunburned lips. “Well, that’s spoiled my plan,” said Skye, maintaining her cheerful onesided commentary. “But don’t count me out; I can still win.” Her opponent, selecting a new tile, paused mid-reach. His hand sank to the counter. “That’s what she told me,” he whispered hoarsely. “We can still win.” “Who said that? Willow?” asked Ash, gripping the back of Skye’s stool.

Linden nodded. “She said there was still a way if we stayed, and then she grabbed my mask and….” He drew a deep, ragged breath and broke down crying. Ash exchanged glances with Skye, his own surprise reflected in blue and grey. “You’d better go find Rowan,” said Skye quietly. Ash nodded and left her patting Linden on the shoulder while he sobbed onto the tile spread. I guess the vaccine saved him, too. And if Willow is still out there…. Troubled thoughts followed him down to the ready room, where Hazel sat cross-legged on one of the benches, brooding over a large metal cylinder. “Is Rowan here?” Ash asked her. “No. He’s outside with Lily.” She tapped a chewed fingernail pensively against the tank. “Ash, how are we going to choose?” “Choose what?” “Planets. Luna was all we had, where our families are. But now…maybe there are reasons to live on Earth, too.” At least one. The kernel of duality in Ash’s being, the subconscious awareness of his twin, ached hollow. “I think we need a lot of answers before we can decide anything,” he said carefully. “Starting with why Rowan never told us about this vaccine.” He opened his locker and Hazel hopped to her feet. “I’ll come with you.” They dressed quickly, skipping armor and weapons, and Ash picked up his mask out of habit. “Why bother?” asked Hazel. Ash squeezed the pliable plastic, stretching reflected light along its contours. “Because we don’t know yet how reliable this vaccine is,” he said. And I’m not ready to commit the rest of my life to Earth.

Hazel huffed but donned her mask, slashes of short dark hair framing the thornbush pattern she’d inked on the strap. They ed through the airlock and stepped outside just as the sun kissed the sea. Orange rays blazed along the platform’s edge. The mild breeze carried a sound Ash had never heard before. “Is that Rowan…laughing?” asked Hazel, incredulous. Ash crept across the platform, and sure enough, Rowan leaned on the med-bed’s transparent lid, his eyes clenched in mirth. “—so the coywolves ate the whole roast and Kory had to gnaw bones for his dinner!” said Lily, concluding her story with a chuckle. “He never managed to do anything quite right.” Rowan shook his head. “I’m glad those kids are all right. Every time one of them got red-ringed, it was almost like losing you all over again.” “You should have moved on, Ro,” said Lily quietly. “Gone back to Luna and had a decent life.” “I tried. After I got grounded, I let them assign me a crummy job and tried to forget it all. But the nothingness up there just makes the memories even more real by comparison. After a few years, I’d had enough. So I drove out to Malapert Mountain, drank the solvents I was supposed to be using to clean the regolith harvesters, and waited for my air to run out. I wanted Earth to be the last thing I saw.” Better to die in the wild than live in a cage. Ash recalled Rowan’s old axiom and shuddered. “How did you survive that?” asked Lily. “Damned if I know. I had so many toxic chemicals on board, it’s amazing my brain didn’t melt out my ears. All I is you in the rover, telling me I could help others stay alive on Earth. Most vivid hallucination you can imagine.” Rowan ran a hand over his face as if trying to clear the old visions away. “I woke up outside the Shack a couple days later with a wicked headache and the crazy idea to make a vaccine. The medics laughed at me— if the old Earthlings with all their resources couldn’t devise a cure for Spores, what chance did we have?—but when the joke got to Juniper, she

took it seriously.” “The only way she ever took anything,” said Lily, an odd brittleness in her tone. “Yeah, that hasn’t changed. But she’s been dedicated to this project. Helped me get the dive coordinator position so I could slip the serum to the kids and hopefully save a few of them.” “You did,” said Ash quietly. Rowan’s head snapped up and Lily, lying on her stomach, craned her neck to look at them. “And not just me. Linden got exposed, too.” He recounted the episode in the canteen. “Willow wanted to stay? That explains why the quads I sent to sweep Goldstone didn’t pick up her tracker. She must’ve evaded them.” Rowan cast Ash an inscrutable look. “I’m sorry. I know you liked her.” “Not after she tried to kill us.” Heat that had nothing to do with the sunset flushed Ash’s face. “But if you’d found her, we might have learned who asked her to do it. Whoever it is knows there are divers surviving down here.” Lily frowned, rubbing the newly cultured skin where a metal shard had been embedded in her spine two days before. The dark sigils of internal bleeding on her torso had shrunk to small discolorations. “Then maybe that’s what she meant by ‘win’—bringing a Tenax back to Luna as a prize specimen.” Rolling onto her side with a hiss, she plucked an intravenous needle from her arm and flicked it away. Rowan’s head snapped back to her. “What are you doing?” “Going home. I can’t lie here while some deranged terranaut hunts my pack.” Lily peeled the electrodes from her chest, sending the machine into a shrill chorus of beeps, and popped the emergency release on the med-bed’s hatch. “The healing cycle isn’t complete.” Rowan tapped a few keys to override the alert. “Just because the damaged spinal nerves have been repaired doesn’t mean you should go skipping around yet. Wait another day or two and—”

“Let Willow try another attack on our fort? Or give the Colony more time to gather data on us from the satellite array?” Lily finished for him. “No. We need to leave Goldstone as soon as possible. I can rest while the others prepare to move.” She lifted her legs slowly over the side of the bed, biting her lip to stifle a pained whimper. The scar shone as bright as the hard resolve in her eyes, and Ash blinked hard at the sudden resemblance to the old scoreboard photo. She’s the one people at home , the face of GAEA. Her voice would get everyone to listen. “At least stay until we fix the comm system,” he blurted out. “People at home might actually believe all of this if it came from you.” “They’ve had the truth coming from me since I got here,” said Lily, holding up a palm for emphasis. In the molten red light, Ash could almost see the biometric chip pulsing under her skin. “And they obviously don’t care. So forget them. I’m looking out for my own people.” “We are your people!” She shook her head, blinking her ancillary eyelids. “Not anymore.” “We could be,” said Rowan, gaze fixed on Lily. He wouldn’t. Ash reached out a staying hand, but Rowan had already swept the mask from his jaw. Hazel let out a squeak of disbelief. He didn’t seem to hear her. Eyes shut, he breathed in a chestful of ocean air and exhaled it in a contented sigh. “So that’s what it smells like,” he murmured into the stunned silence. “Well, I hope a little salt was worth the Spores,” said Lily, planting a hand on her hip. “What are you going to do now?” “Something I’ve dreamed about for twenty-five years,” said Rowan, and closed the space between them in a stride. Both sets of Lily’s eyelids flew wide in surprise, but she didn’t pull away. Rowan froze with only a finger’s

breadth between their lips. Then he turned abruptly and charged off the platform, disappearing in an eruption of droplets. Ash and Lily yelled his name in unison, dashing to the edge. White rings spread over the waves. Rowan’s head burst through them, gasping. Water and joy shone on his face. “Why did you do that?” Lily called down to him. Annoyance and amusement vied for control of her expression. “Always wanted to. how much we talked about it?” “We talked about a lot of things we never did.” “Don’t you think we’ve waited long enough?” He squirted a mouthful of seawater at her. Lily stepped back, a frown creasing her brow. Then she loosed a wolf howl that made Ash jump and plunged into the sea beside Rowan. “Is this the same person who was our dive coordinator?” asked Hazel. She stared at the splashing, cackling pair. “Grouchy Rowan who makes us take vitamins and curses almost as much as my mom? He’s acting like….” She trailed off, biting her lip under her mask. “Like Thorn when he used to tease you,” Ash finished softly. He leapt back as water sloshed onto the platform, speckling his boots. A hand followed. Rowan hauled himself up and collapsed onto the hot platform, soaked. Lily climbed out beside him, her braids streaming. “That was worth the wait,” Rowan panted. Wild light burned in Lily’s dark eyes. “What about this?” Leaning over, she kissed Rowan hard on the mouth. He gave a small jolt of surprise, then wrapped his arms around her waist and reciprocated with enthusiasm. “I guess that’s a yes,” said Hazel, watching with unabashed fascination. Ash looked away until the adults broke apart. Rowan flashed a guilty smile at them. “That’s the real reason we make you

wear masks and body armor, you know, to prevent this sort of behavior.” Ash didn’t laugh. “You’re staying, then?” Conflicted emotions swept across Rowan’s face, but he spoke with resolve. “If I go back to Luna, they’ll toss me in the brig until this vaccine business gets resolved. And I can’t get grounded again. Not when I’m already a quarter-century late for my rendezvous.” He glanced at Lily with something so deep and raw in his eyes it almost read like pain. “Besides, I want to see all those kids. I owe them an apology, and the only one good enough is to do what they did.” “You took the vaccine?” Rowan nodded. “The leftover dose Skye refused on the trip out. If I don’t get all the handy survival mutations, we’ll know it works.” “But how will we know if you’re leaving Goldstone?” asked Hazel. Tears glistened at the edge of her lashes. “Once you’re out of the Vator’s range we won’t even know where you are.” “Maybe not, but this old slab isn’t going anywhere,” said Rowan, stomping a boot on the anchor platform. “We’ll have a quad. I’ll come back and see you.” He planted a brusque kiss on the top of Hazel’s head and turned to Ash. “This isn’t a goodbye,” said Ash, echoing Rowan’s words to him on the same spot hours before. “Bring Thorn when you visit.” “Sure. I’ll even be able to tell you apart now.” “Unless you decide to us,” Lily told Ash. She stood, cutting a radiant silhouette against the purple sky. “When you get tired of trying to change things on Luna, there’s a place for you here. All of you, even your Darksider friend.” A rare, full grin shone on her bronzed face. She took Rowan’s hand and led him onto the nearest quad. Rotors roared awake in the dark. The craft hung for an instant against the moon, then streaked off eastward, lights dissolving into the starfield. “What now?” Hazel murmured.

“We go home,” said Ash. And try to convince everyone on Luna that all of this really happened. “If we can figure out how to operate the Vator.” Her teeth flashed in the gloaming. “Leave that to me.” They trudged back across the deck, through the de-con pods, and up to the control room. Skye wheeled around on her stool as they entered. “I watched through the video link,” she said, indicating the screen. Ash recognized the camera over the specimen drop, where he’d checked in with Rowan after every dive. “You went off the map again, Ash….” This time we’ve changed places. He glanced around the tiny space, trying to imagine it without the dive coordinator. A glint on the far shelf caught his eye. Reaching for it, his fingers closed on cool metal. “What is that?” asked Hazel. Ash held up the syzygy medallion. “I asked Rowan to give it to my mom if I didn’t come back from the dive.” He swallowed hard. “I guess he’s the one not going home.” “Or the only one going home,” said Skye, sounding wistful. “Rowan took the last dose of that vaccine, didn’t he?” “He also took our last chance at credibility,” said Ash. “People might have accepted this story from a Colony official, but no one is going to believe a few raving terranauts. We don’t have any proof.” A slow, conniving grin spread across Skye’s face. She tapped a few keys and the image on screen shifted back in time. Even on grainy digital footage, Lily’s identity was unmistakable. Skye twitched the sound dial and Rowan’s confession replayed, faint but audible: This vaccine business…kids I thought I’d lost…. “You recorded it?” asked Ash. “Better than that. We’re still not receiving any transmissions, but we can

send them without any apparent trouble.” The implication clicked in Ash’s head so hard that he shivered. “You broadcast it?” “Live on a whole band of frequencies.” Savage triumph glittered in Skye’s eyes. “Shackleton Colony just got a glimpse of the real life on Earth.”

2

Return

No announcement marked the Vator’s arrival at GEO this time. No Wake up, brats, we’re home, or Line up neatly this time, for Goddard’s sake, or I’ll drop you all right back to Earth. The grind and crunch of the docking mechanism shivered through the dormitory walls into Ash’s bones, then everything faded into silence. He stared at the ceiling, reluctant to leave his bunk. The week had ed so slowly, a hazy montage of naps and meals, broken by tile games with Skye—she was nearly unbeatable now—that he’d avoided thinking about the ascension’s inevitable end. I’ll have to explain what happened to Rowan and Willow and Dill. And Skye’s video…there will be so many questions. Panic rose so quickly that he sucked in his breath. His hands moved before he even directed them, delving into the pillowcase. They met only worn cloth. I know I had extras! He wriggled his fingers into the farthest corner, hoping to find a pill he’d forgotten. All his hiding places remained stubbornly empty. Willow and Linden both took it. The other vets probably did, too. One of them must’ve had a stash. Launching himself off the ladder, Ash drifted to the next set of bunks and began digging through the bedclothes. Each empty bunk he overturned ratcheted up his panic until he slung a sleeping bag across the room. A surprised yelp sounded in the doorway. “What are you doing?” asked Skye, disentangling herself from the floating fabric. “Looking for something.” “Your drugs?” Her disarming stare challenged him to deny it.

Ash forced his tone to stay level. “What did you do with them?” “Dumped them down the toilet where they belong.” She threw the sleeping bag back. It drifted through the dormitory like a fog preparing to engulf him. “If you want them back, you’ll have to climb down into the waste storage tank and go through all those little vacuum-sealed packets of—” “Why?” Ash’s throat, tight as his fists, permitted only one syllable. “Rowan said Edge might have damaged Linden’s brain. Do you want to end up like that?” “I won’t. I only take it when I really need it.” “Which is, apparently, all the time.” “Why does it matter to you anyway?” Ash snapped. Skye folded her arms. “Because I need you fully functional to help explain our Earth discoveries to everyone at home. We’re partners now, ?” “Partners don’t steal each other’s things.” She drew back a little, lips parted. Raw hurt in her eyes didn’t lessen Ash’s seething annoyance. Kicking off the bunk, he sailed past her and headed for the docking hatch. It doesn’t matter. I’ll get more from Valerian and— A line of security officers blocked the end of the skybridge, harsh overhead lights glinting off their armor. Ash caught one of the wall grips to slow his momentum. “What’s going on?” “We’re here to escort you back to Luna,” said the middle officer. “Divers don’t rate a security detail,” said Ash, frowning. “I need to see Valerian.” “Valerian?” One of the officers snorted. “He’s dead.”

The nervousness, temporarily displaced by anger, rose in Ash’s veins again. “What?” “Someone found him cold at his workstation a few days ago. Turns out he was taking some homemade drugs. Maybe it was a bad reaction, or maybe he just wanted out.” The officer shrugged. “Either way, he went back to Luna in a bag.” Beneath the shock and sorrow burned a compulsive need. I saw where he kept them. I could find them…. But the officer had already laid a hand on his shoulder. “The shuttle is waiting. Let’s get you all separated from that dangerous Darksider and take you home.”

⁂

“We’ve docked,” said the officer in the doorway, glaring. “Let’s go.” Skye marched out of the Luna Vator’s makeshift cell, cuffs rattling against her wrists. The familiar low gravity caressed her sore muscles, and the small object stuffed into her stabilization boot pressed lightly against her sole with every step. I hope they won’t search us more carefully when we get to the Shack. She ed the three divers crowding the hatch. Hazel muttered a stream of epithets at the officer beside her, while Linden stared at the floor and hardly seemed to notice the armored glove steering him by the elbow. “Where’s Ash?” Skye asked them, glancing around the cramped skybridge. “I’m here.” He shuffled out of the next compartment, and Skye bit her tongue at his appearance. Shadows ringed his eyes, and a glaze of sweat shone on his forehead.

“Are you all right?” she asked, slipping next to him as the security detail herded them forward. He pressed his temples between a thumb and forefinger. “Just a headache. It’s too bright in here.” “Does that usually make your hands shake?” Ash scowled at his trembling fingers and crammed them into his pockets. They emerged into the dingy base station, where a knot of guards and two medics in white jumpsuits waited. One of the officers, a woman with dark braids wound around her head, stood with her arms folded, tapping fingers on her elbow. I her. The security chief, Holly. Conflicting memories clashed in Skye’s mind. She wasn’t very personable interrogating me, but she didn’t help Juniper cut pieces out of me, either. Maybe…. Holly glanced up and began to speak, but a high-pitched squeal cut off her words: “Mag-ma!” Hazel tore away from the group and flung her arms around the female medic, who clutched her back just as tightly. “I missed you! Did you see the video? You believe it, don’t you, because it’s all true….” “What video?” asked the woman, perplexed. “You didn’t get any transmissions from the Vator?” Skye frowned. I broadcast that on a whole range of frequencies. Someone must have received it! “All we got was the update from GEO security,” said Holly. “An unauthorized dive, your coordinator losing his mind and abandoning you… it’s understandable you’re all a little rattled.” “No, we’re not,” Ash told her with a dark look. “And that’s not what happened!” Hazel turned pleading eyes to the medic, who only hugged her again in reply.

“I’m just glad you’re all right, love,” she whispered against Hazel’s cheek. “I didn’t call you out here for a family reunion, Magnolia,” said Holly, jerking a thumb at Linden. “Shuttle team said he needs a medical escort, although I can’t see anything wrong with him.” “Not all injuries are physical.” Magnolia scanned the terranauts with practiced eyes. “What about the rest of you? You look a little peaky, Ash. Did you get medical screening before boarding the shuttle, like you’re supposed to?” He shook his head, and Magnolia turned a disapproving look on Holly. “There’s not a qualified medic on GEO right now. We thought it was better to get them home as soon as possible,” said the security chief. “At least we can agree on that,” said Magnolia crisply. She beckoned to her partner, a young man who seemed too thin for his uniform. Skye narrowed her eyes at him. He looked hastily away, but not in time to cover his nervous staring. “I know you,” said Skye. “Pyres, isn’t it? You helped Juniper dice me up in the brig.” “I seem to you got him better than he got you,” said Holly, stationing herself between them. “Don’t worry, Pyres, she’s restrained.” “That’s what you said last time,” he mumbled, and gave Skye a wide berth. She snapped her teeth as he ed, grinning when he jumped. After a cursory examination, Pyres guided Linden toward the open docking bay, where a medical transport waited. Magnolia took Hazel’s hand and followed. “You can’t take her,” said Holly, throwing an arm in Hazel’s path. “She’s not a medical priority. She has to stay in custody.” “She’s in her mother’s custody,” Magnolia replied with a quiet edge. “You have no pretext to keep her from me this time.” This time?

Holly scowled, but relented, glaring as Hazel waved goodbye. “You two come with me,” she snapped at Ash and Skye. Climbing inside the smaller patrol rover, Skye found it almost identical to the exploration vehicle she’d driven to the pole, a pressurized cabin with a suitport on the back. Ash squeezed in beside her and Holly took the pilot’s seat. “—complete disregard for protocol, just like Violet,” she muttered to herself, sealing the hatch and firing the engine. “You really didn’t get any video transmission?” Skye asked her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Holly, preoccupied with the controls. “Then why are we under arrest?” “You’re not. We just need to ask you some questions and make sure you get proper psychological screening. Now strap in so we can go before nightfall. I hate driving in the black.” The lunar terminator chased the two transports as they trundled away from the station. Skye pressed her nose to the tiny porthole, watching shadows consume the bluffs and craters behind them. Twilight rays flared on the horizon, a brief luminous dance of dust ribbons heralding the dark. Our seas are hardened lava, our deserts have no life. Even the sun looks just like any other star. “How can you come back here after seeing Earth?” she whispered to Ash. He didn’t respond, eyes closed and lips pressed together as if he were determined not to be sick. Night had engulfed the pole by the time they approached the cluster of lunarcrete domes beside Shackleton Crater. The first transport veered off toward the Medical Centre. Holly drove around to the next available airlock and initiated the docking sequence. Nothing happened. She re-entered the codes, then swore. “Stupid airlock isn’t responding to remote commands. Probably another power outage.”

“It must be hard, rationing solar energy through two-week nights,” said Skye. “There has to be a better solution.” Like trading with the Exiles, accepting our helium-3 fuel for transport to Earth. “There is: moving to Mars. Can’t happen soon enough for me.” Holly climbed over Ash and Skye to the suitport. “I’ll open the hatch from inside. Stand by to release the rover door manually.” She grabbed the bar above the port, swinging herself feet-first into the waiting spacesuit. A moment later she drifted past the porthole and disappeared behind the dome. Skye promptly dropped into the pilot’s seat and began examining the instrument . “Stealing a rover won’t help our credibility,” said Ash. “I couldn’t steal it if I wanted to—Holly locked the controls,” Skye told him. “I assume it takes one of your Colony ID tags to activate it.” “Yes, but mine won’t be coded for vehicle permissions. Let’s just wait until she comes to get us, all right?” “Follow orders? You’re definitely sick.” Skye pressed the back of her hand to Ash’s damp forehead. He shook her off with a twitch. “Now you’re a medic, too? Quit meddling with everything.” “I thought that was our whole plan?” Except that our proof that seems to have vanished into space. Almost. She wiggled her toes, tracing the contours of her failsafe. Ash shut his eyes and the cabin went silent except for the odd counterpoint of engine noise and human breathing. The landscape outside remained utterly still. It might as well be drawn on the windshield, like the patterns divers draw on their mask straps—a two-dimensional hope, fading by the day. Wait, it is actually fading? Skye leaned forward, squinting. The dome’s lights receded in the dark.

“Why are we moving?” She tugged on the steering yoke. Nothing happened. A message blazed across the dashboard screen: REMOTE OPERATION ENGAGED. “Ash?” He woke with a soft grunt. “What?” “Do these rovers have remote control?” “Yeah, so stranded explorers can summon their vehicles. It’s a safety feature.” Skye burst out laughing. Ash stared at her with bleary, incredulous eyes. “Why is that funny?” “Because the safety feature is driving us into Shackleton Crater.” He peered outside, swore, and scrambled into the front seat. “I told you not to play with the controls.” “I didn’t do anything!” “Doesn’t matter now. We need to find a way to turn it off. Or at least activate the emergency comm channel.” Ash pressed his hand to the screen. UNAUTHORIZED , it chided him. He tried again. The rover rumbled on. “Dammit. One of us will have to go for help,” he said. “These vehicles usually carry two suits.” Skye crawled back to examine the suitport. “Not this time. Holly took the only one.” Is this cosmic justice for all the times I stole from Colony rovers? An idea sparked in her mind. She crouched down and felt under the seat. “What are you doing?” Ash asked. “Stripping your rover like the filthy scavenger I am.” Her fingers found the

familiar catch and hauled out the emergency kit. “These always have good parts in them. Fuel cells, nav equipment….” “Rations, water, and other stuff that won’t help us much when we’re four klicks deep in a frozen crater,” said Ash. “How is this going to—argh!” He flung a hand over his eyes as a brilliant beam of light struck him in the face. “I don’t need a giant radio dish to send a signal,” said Skye, the flashlight’s heavy barrel a reassuring weight in her palm. She pressed it against the porthole and began to flick it on and off in the measured bursts of a distress signal. “You were out near the rim the day I met you. Maybe someone is out there now.” “I doubt it. There’s rules about operating outside at night.” Nonetheless, Ash grabbed the other light and began flashing it out the opposite window. The rover continued its inexorable crawl toward the crater. Solar s winked as they approached, a glittering noose waiting to snare them. Skye transmitted more quickly, fingers aching. If no one sees us, we’re— “There!” said Ash, and Skye spun to his window. Their cheekbones brushed as they strained to spot the figure bounding toward the rover. A minute later the suitport hissed and a woman tumbled backward into the cabin, her dark ponytail askew. “Violet!” Ash cried with relief. “Ash, what in the Goddard-damned galaxy are you doing?” she asked, looking cross. “Joyriding in a rover? I’d expect that from Hazel, maybe, but —” “I’m not driving.” He pointed to the display. “Then who is?” “I don’t know. The Shack’s airlock wouldn’t open, so Chief Holly went inside to fix it and Skye started fiddling with the controls—” “I told you, I didn’t turn it on,” Skye snapped.

“No, you can’t have. You need job-specific permissions to operate equipment like this,” said Violet. She slapped her palm against the instrument . A nervous heartbeat ed. Letters winked up at them: AUTHORIZATION CONFIRMED. OVERRIDE? “Yes, you useless piece of rust-eaten slag.” Violet punched a button. OVERRIDE ACCEPTED. RESUME MANUAL CONTROL. With practiced ease, she turned away from the crater and cut the engine. The vehicle lurched to a stop beneath them. Skye exhaled a dizzy breath and two other sighs echoed her own. “Hell of a glitch,” said Violet, attempting a laugh. “I don’t think so.” Skye scrolled through the computer interface, searching the command lines. Violet turned to Ash, her voice full of parental concern. “Are you all right?” “Thanks to you. We’d be at the bottom of the crater if you hadn’t been here.” “I shouldn’t have been, but that Sector Five power grid’s been misbehaving again, so I wanted to finish repairing the solar array. My supervisor’s going to give me an earful about breaking the curfew again.” “Maybe you’ll get a for saving our lives.” “Doubt it. Someone’s life is always in danger around here, given how frequently things malfunction.” “Does this look like a malfunction to you?” Skye pointed to the log files. “Someone activated the remote function just a few minutes ago and put in coordinates for the crater.” Leaning over the screen, Violet touched the luminous string of blank characters redacting a numerical code. “Only a few people are authorized to withhold their activity signatures,” she breathed. “People who need to

review records anonymously, attend private meetings with Everest, that sort of thing.” “Like the Chief Security Officer?” Skye prompted her. “Or one of the senior department heads. Probably fewer than a dozen people in the whole Colony.” “And one of them is trying to kill us,” murmured Ash. Shadows occluded his face. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re a hero,” said Violet. “Why would anyone want you dead?” “Maybe because of this,” said Skye. Unstrapping her ankle brace, she shook the smuggled data chip into her palm. Hope flickered in Ash’s tired face. “You made a copy of the footage?” “To bring back to the Sanctuary. It’s the only proof we have.” “Proof of what?” Violet glanced between Ash and Skye, but her suspicious expression melted into dismay as they explained. “So that’s why they asked us to do it.” “Do what?” asked Ash. She rubbed wearily at her face. Inventive profanities seeped through her fingers. “You were too little to when your dad and I worked Vator maintenance. It’s isolating out on GEO, not much istrative oversight. So when Alder told me about a plan to switch the gas tanks in the de-con pods….” Green dashboard light made Ash’s face look more sickly than ever. “Whose plan?” “He never told me. The tanks came out on the shuttle in place of the usual ones. It was supposed to be quicker and kinder than the standard cheap formula the resource officers allowed. It seemed like the least we could do, so we installed them and didn’t ask questions.”

“It must have been Juniper, trying to test the vaccine,” said Skye. “Maybe she’s the one trying to hide it all now.” “No one should be hiding this. Thorn and all those other kids, alive?” Violet shook her head so hard that her ponytail slapped her cheeks. “We have to tell Everest.” Ash shook his head. “Whoever just tried to get rid of us isn’t going to stop. If we go back to the Shack now, they’ll find a way to discredit us or keep us quiet. We need to spread the truth as far as possible while we still can.” He shot a meaningful glance at Skye. All the air seemed to vanish from the rover’s cramped cabin. “I thought we’d have Colony before going back to my people,” she said, trying to keep renewed fear from leaching into her tone. “If we get the Darksiders behind us, we’ll have more leverage to confront everyone here and figure out who our enemies are,” said Ash. “And you said they might have an original Aspergillus sample for comparison—that would give us clear evidence for Lily’s hypothesis.” Skye clenched her hand until the data chip bit into her skin. He’s right. If someone traps us here, the Exiles will never know the truth about Earth. They’ll die out there in the maria, waiting for their stupid sign. “All right,” she said, swallowing hard. “We’ll go.” “Hang on. I watched you try to kill him right over there,” said Violet, jabbing a finger at the regolith fields outside. “Now you want to take him home to meet Mom and Dad? I don’t buy it. You just want to avoid a sentence.” Skye snorted. “If evading punishment were my motive, home is the last place I’d go.” Violet stared at her for a long moment. Then she sighed an expletive and pulled a small multi-pronged tool from one of her jumpsuit pockets. “Let me see your cuffs.” A few expert twists at the hinges snapped open the restraints.

“Thanks,” said Skye, rubbing her wrists. Violet aimed the tool at her. “No more beating up on Ash, got it?” “We already made that deal,” said Ash, with the first hint of a smile he’d displayed all day. Violet pried the casing off the dashboard and began digging around its electronic innards. “What are you doing?” Skye asked. “All our vehicles have a satellite tracker. If you drive off with it enabled, your friend inside will know exactly where you are and be able to seize control again.” She disconnected the wires to an innocuous-looking component. A tiny pulsing light dimmed. “Now I know where Hazel got her mechanical skills,” said Skye. Violet chuckled. “And her vocabulary.” “And her guts,” said Ash. “If anyone finds out you helped us, you’ll be in all kinds of trouble.” “Don’t worry, I’ve had a lot more experience getting into and out of trouble than you have.” Violet hugged him as best as the crowded cabin allowed. “Besides, I owed your dad a big one. Maybe this repays some of the debt.” “You could come with us,” Skye offered. “No. This crater-brain might go after Hazel next. No one’s getting my little girl while I’m still breathing.” Skye hesitated a moment, then pressed the data chip into Violet’s palm. “They won’t try to silence her if the story’s already told.” A slow grin lit Violet’s face. “I’m not too old for a second shot at dissent.” Tucking the chip into her utility belt, she paused at the suitport and cast a rueful look back at them. “Your dad would be proud of you, Ash.” “Why?” Ash asked, but the port had already sealed behind her. He scowled at her shadow as it crossed the rover’s headlights. “Willow, Rowan, now

Violet, too—everyone’s been hiding things from me.” Skye laughed. “Get used to it. There’s a lot more secrets and lies where we’re going.” I just hope we don’t have to add more of our own. “Who’s going to believe us without that video?” asked Ash. “We’ve got a very long drive to think of something.” He gave a thin chuckle and curled up in the enger seat. The controls felt reassuringly familiar under Skye’s hands. She pushed aside her gnawing worry and focused on the rough terrain ahead.

3

Sanctuary

Green. Numbers glowed on the dashboard, acid light creeping beneath Ash’s eyelids. Cold glass pressed against his cheek. Beyond, pale landscapes stretched into airless black space. Machinery ground softly beneath him. Skye muttered a low, constant stream of encouragement: “Don’t quit on me now, we’re almost there…just a little farther, come on….” Is she talking to herself, or the rover? Or me? He tried to ask, but his tongue refused to stir, and he slid gratefully back into unawareness.

⁂

Black. The rover pitched forward, spiraling down the walls of a deep shaft. At the center stood a crude oblong shape encased in scaffolding. What is that, some kind of shuttle? A docking mechanism grumbled, and the wheeze of an airlock seal replied. “Ash, wake up. We’re here.” “Where’s here?” “Mare Ingenii.” Of course she would live in the Sea of Cleverness. Tremors incapacitated his muscles. “I-I can’t….”

Warm breath grazed his ear as Skye slid her hands under his shoulders. “You’re just getting me back for faking gravity weakness on Earth, aren’t you?” She hauled him out of his seat and into cool dimness. The air tasted vaguely familiar. Minerals. Rocks. Like the desert air on Earth. We must be in a cave. “Mother’s mantle, you’re back.” A startled male voice rang off the stone. “I thought you’d gone for good.” “Sorry to disappoint you, Santiago.” “That’s not what I meant—I….” The speaker emerged from the shadows, a gaunt man in his forties who spoke through a thin gash in his beard. “Who’s that with you?” “A friend,” said Skye firmly. The word echoed in the chamber and in Ash’s brain. Friend, as in not an enemy? Or as in someone you trust, someone you care about, someone who doesn’t throw away your Edge when you’re not looking? Santiago stared at Ash, sunken eyes widening. “If Madurai finds out you brought a Colonist here, she’ll—” “—discover something she’s waited for her entire life,” Skye finished for him. Drawing Ash’s arm over her shoulder to take his weight, she marched into the narrow tunnel. A string of bulbs cast the floor in puddles of brightness and shade. Walking through them felt like flickering in and out of consciousness. ages branched off in endless hollow fractals. Ash quickly lost count of the turns. How deep does this system go? Skye rounded a corner and almost collided with a pair of teenagers. The boy, whose skin almost blended into the darkness, jumped back at the sight of Ash, momentarily leaving the ground in low gravity. The orange-haired girl—Humans can still have hair that color?—let out a shriek. “That’s the most you’ve spoken to me in five years, Chiba,” said Skye in a

withering tone. “It’s so nice we’re talking again.” She pulled Ash onward. More stares, more whispers: “Is that what they look like? I almost thought they weren’t real!” “The others must be waiting outside to swarm us!” “Go alert the Speaker. Hurry!” Is this how Skye felt on GEO, when they took her off the shuttle and all the kids turned out to gawk? Ash snuck a glance at her. Variegated bands of light scrolled over her face, accentuating her tightly set jaw. Her gaze fixed on the tunnel mouth ahead, which opened into a vast cavern several stories tall. Minerals glittered in the rock cupola like stars in an ersatz sky. Gazing around to take in the scale, Ash noticed that a crowd had gathered around them. Faces—some almost as pale as Skye’s, others the deep black of the lunar night outside, and more in every shade between—shimmered in his vision. Eyes the color of grass and soil and sea and stone all stared at him. Despite their diverse features, all the Exiles shared a pinched, underfed look. Incredible genetic variation! How have they maintained that when everyone on the Shack looks the same after only four generations? Skye tugged him toward a age, but a man stepped in to block her way. Bits of grey peppered his smooth dark hair. “What do you think you’re doing?” he boomed. “Looking for you, actually,” asked Skye. “My companion is sick. You’re senior medic, Dallas. It’s your duty to—” “To prevent this filth from contaminating our habitat,” said Dallas, curling his lip at Ash. “I’ve been with him for days and I’m fine. He’s not contagious—” “Lies!” A new voice, dry as wind through the dead cities of Earth, slithered out of the lava tube. A spidery hand crept onto Dallas’ sleeve. He sprang aside and a

wizened woman stepped into the light. Hair the color of lunar regolith hung in straggly wisps to her waist. A patchwork robe of blue and green jumpsuit scraps swathed her thin frame. She moved like someone who had once been tall; even bent and hobbling, there was something imperious in her step. Skye went rigid like a hunted animal. This must be Madurai. Something about the old woman’s features struck Ash as familiar. Family resemblance to Skye, I guess—what else would it be? “He pollutes our Sanctuary with the air of his lungs and the lies of his tongue!” Madurai aimed a finger at him, a scar on her palm glowing ferocious white in the dimness. She rounded on Skye. “You’ve betrayed us by bringing him here! Just as I’ve always said—disloyalty is a genetic aberration you’ve clearly inherited.” “I was loyal enough to come back here,” said Skye. Rage shuddered deep in her body and Ash thought of dark thunderclouds over the North American plains, quaking with the strain of holding back their storms. “I followed the signal Geneva discovered years ago, and she was right. Explorers from the Colony got stranded on Earth, and they survived.” A murmur rippled through the group behind her. “Impossible,” said Dallas haughtily. “I’ve read the medical records from Sporespread. One hundred percent fatality rate.” “A century ago, yes,” said Ash. Dallas gave a small jolt to hear him speak. “But Aspergillus has evolved since then. So have we.” “Abomination,” said Madurai, skewering him with eyes as sharp and green as pine needles. “Perhaps your kind has no compunction about defiling themselves with engineered Spores, but we will remain as the Mother made us. We accept her judgment for our sins and serve our punishment among the stars.” “Our sentence is over.” Skye raised her voice to carry over the entire assembly. “The Colonists have a vaccine for Aspergillus. With that, we could go back to Earth again and live the way we were meant to.” “It’s the sign!” someone cried. “The Mother sent this outsider to tell us we’re permitted to return home!”

“No, she would never speak through someone impure!” The voices buzzed incoherently in Ash’s ears. “Even if it’s true, why would the Colonists share anything with us?” asked a sandy-haired young man at the front of the group, folding his arms. “They could have Earth to themselves.” “We don’t want Earth,” Ash told him. “We want Mars, but we don’t have enough spare power to get us all there.” “There’s enough helium-3 in the maria to fuel Colony ships for decades,” said Skye, gesturing at the chained lights. “We can trade it for the vaccine.” “And age to Earth,” Ash added. “If you permitted us access to your mineral deposits, I’m sure Everest would—” “Everest?” Madurai sneered. “He’s still alive? The first Exile fled his tyranny more than seventy years ago. His arrogance must be even greater than she described if he’s trying to engineer himself to immortality.” “I don’t think he wants to live forever, just until he can see us to a real home,” said Ash. The old woman sniffed. “We have only one true home.” “And now we can go back,” said Skye. Madurai waved a dismissive sleeve. “A traitor’s hollow promises. Where’s the proof this vaccine exists?” “Here.” Skye tapped Ash’s sternum. “I saw him breathe raw Earth air, but he stayed uncontaminated—pure,” she added with a smirk. “The vaccine made him immune to Spores. He’s the proof.” Ash’s nausea redoubled. I’m the collected specimen now. Outbursts from the crowd became auditory static fizzling in his brain. The cavern spun and feverish blackness swept over him again.

⁂

Red. A ruby waterfall poured from the de-con shower, catching Ash full in the face. Crimson rivulets streamed down his hair and into his mouth. The copper taste made him gag. It’s blood! He tried to spit it out and couldn’t stop coughing. Spasms racked his ribs. Leaning into the pod wall for , he stared in horror at his bare arms. Scaly patches erupted from fingers to elbows, flesh bubbling like tar on the old cracked highways. He pressed his face to the door, looking for someone outside to save him, but the deck clouded as milky eyelids materialized over his pupils. Muffled through the pod’s walls, a voice called to him: “Ash! Wake up!” He thrashed upright in the sweat-drenched sleeping bag. Instinctively he pawed his face, feeling for any change in his features. “You’re all right.” Skye’s voice sounded close, but he couldn’t see her. Tears and fatigue blurred his vision. Only her hand on his sleeve anchored him in the dark and slowed the frantic cadence of his heart. “It’s just another nightmare. Go back to sleep.”

⁂

Grey. A rock wall lay centimeters from his nose, magnifying the sound of distant screams. “Skye?” Ash scrambled up from his pallet and cracked his skull against a low ceiling. Dark stars spattered across his vision.

Her voice broke through the dizziness, mingled impatience and amusement: “I’m right here.” She sat less than a meter away, hugging her knees. “Then who’s screaming?” “The atoms,” Skye said simply. “Our helium-3 reactor is just down the tunnel. Atoms scream when they’re about to fuse.” “What a horrible sound.” Ash dropped back down, rubbing his head. “Silence would be worse—it would mean no power. Besides, you can’t hear it from the Sanctuary.” “I thought that’s where we were.” Skye shook her head. “They wouldn’t let me take you to the medical ward. After you fainted, Madurai started yelling about the risk of you infecting our population, so I had to bring you to the Fringe instead.” “The Fringe?” Ash’s mouth felt like the landscape around Goldstone, sandy and desiccated. “Segments of the lava tube network outside the Sanctuary’s life . It’s where we store supplies and equipment and…other things not wanted in the habitat.” A bitter smile quirked Skye’s mouth. She handed Ash a container of water and he drank it empty, studying the tiny chamber over the vessel’s rim. Thermal foil plastered over a low entrance didn’t quite retain the air and heat hissing from a portable atmo generator in the corner. The floor space barely allowed room for him to lie down without tucking in his legs. Good Goddard, it’s even smaller than the cells in the Shack’s brig! “Are we prisoners, then?” he asked, gasping around the wet chill in his throat. Skye laughed. “Everyone is a prisoner here, Ash. Our whole world is a few thousand meters of tunnels and caves. Some people have never even been above ground. Can you imagine what they thought when you walked in?” “Yeah—‘power up the microscopes,’” Ash muttered. “I’m just a walking

test tube here, aren’t I?” The liveliness on Skye’s face faltered. “I had to give them a reason to prefer us alive. It bought us a little time, but if we can’t find a way to prove there’s a vaccine for Spores—” The foil sheet rattled, turning both their heads. A man in an insulated coat scurried into the room, hunched to avoid the ceiling. “Well, he’s not contagious,” he announced. “So we can take him back to the lab for proper—oh, he came around, did he?” He swept back his hood, loosing a mop of sandy hair, and Ash recognized the man who had spoken out in the cavern. “Ash, this is Sydney, our medic,” said Skye, waving an introductory hand between them. “Junior medic, which is why I’m the one braving the Fringe to tend the unpopular patients.” Sydney scrubbed at his arms for warmth. “How do you live in here?” “Because I don’t want to die out there.” Skye powered off the atmo unit led the way out into the nook, her flashlight skimming the maws of countless other tunnels and caves. “How big is this Fringe?” asked Ash. Every word became a white plume into the cold tunnel. Skye shrugged. “No one’s explored it enough to know.” “We tend to stay where we can breathe,” Sydney muttered from the rear. Light bounced off another foil-sealed portal ahead. Skye peeled back the edge and hesitated, briefly shutting her eyes as if summoning strength. Frost from her own crystallized breath glittered on her lashes. “Come on, the atmospheric leakage is bad enough without leaving the door open,” said Sydney, shoving past her. Ash followed him and emerged into shimmering emerald light. Pipes filled with verdant sludge ran wall to wall in the large cave, luminous with ultraviolet light.

“Is this a bioreactor?” he asked, running a finger along the nearest pipe. “Yes. It replenishes and circulates air for the entire Sanctuary.” Skye pointed at shunts drilled through the stone ceiling. “Algae is one of the only things we can get to grow down here.” “The horticulturists are trying to expand our cultivation,” said Sydney, “but Madurai doesn’t want us growing too many Earth species on Luna. She says it would mock the Mother.” “You seem to know a lot about the program for a medic,” said Skye, shooting him a curious look. Sydney ignored the probe and herded them to a ladder at the far end of the room. Ash clutched the rungs, his fingers threatening to give way. What made me so sick and weak? If it’s not Spores…. He crawled onto a ledge and followed Skye through a braided maze formation. Other people inhabited this part of the cave system. They ed a short man who kept his gaze glued to the floor. “Hello, Tomsk,” Skye addressed him loudly, with enough artificial cheer to make him jump. “How far have you dug that new mining tunnel since I left?” Tomsk hurried on without answering. Around the corner they almost collided with a woman who flattened herself against the far wall in terror. “He’s much better, Florence, thank you for asking,” said Skye dryly. The woman held her breath until they’d ed, eyes puffed and cheeks bulging with air. Ash might have laughed, if not for the baleful gleam in her eyes. “Friendly lot,” he muttered to Skye. “They’re two of Madurai’s biggest ers,” she told him. “It could have been worse.” “It’s about to be,” Sydney promised as he ushered them into the medical ward. It felt less oppressive than the other caves, well-lit and smelling of astringents. Dallas stood tapping idly through records on an ancient

computer. “Three people with respiratory complaints today,” he drawled when they entered. “I wonder why.” “Hypochondria,” said Sydney. “You saw the results. The Colonist doesn’t have aspergillosis.” “Maybe not, but what matters is that people think he might. Don’t discount the power of belief.” “Like their belief that the Mother will send us a sign when it’s time to go home?” said Skye, glaring at Dallas. Faint lines of disdain appeared in his expression, but he didn’t reply. Sydney motioned Ash to a cot and proceeded to run a dizzying sequence of assays. A dozen small instruments scanned and prodded him. Blood and hair samples disappeared into an analyzer. Ash kept his mouth shut except to permit a cheek swab and answer a few of Sydney’s questions: “How old are you, Ash?” “Almost sixteen.” “How recently were you on Earth?” “About two weeks ago.” “And when did these symptoms start—fatigue, nightmares, irritability?” “That last one isn’t a symptom, it’s just his personality,” Skye chimed in from her perch on the counter. Ash shot her a barbed look. “I’ve just been tired. A lot’s happened.” “I can imagine. You’ve traveled a long way.” Sydney glanced over to ensure Dallas was occupied, then dropped his voice. “So what’s she like? Our Mother?” “Earth is….” A dump, but still light-years better than this place. No wonder you all dream of going back. Ash struggled for adjectives. The analyzer

saved him, announcing initial results with a beep. Sydney scrolled through the data. “It can’t be too bad if you’re this healthy. No significant toxin exposure, and none of the nutritional deficiencies we get….” He trailed off, staring at the display. “Mother’s molten mantle. I don’t know what half of these trace chemicals are, but they don’t belong in human tissue.” “You said I don’t have Spores.” Tightness gripped Ash’s chest. “No, you’re negative for fungal infection. This is something else.” Sydney studied the readout again, then tapped the intercom. “Lu’an, can you come to the medical ward, please?” A distorted echo of his voice shimmered in the tunnel outside. “You shouldn’t waste our top horticulturist’s talent on an inane conspiracy theory,” said Dallas. “It’s not a waste if it confirms the sign,” said a bright voice at the door. A frothy corona of curls popped into the room, followed by a young woman’s face. “That was fast,” said Sydney. “I was ing by on my way to the Speaker’s chamber. She finally granted my request for an audience.” Lu’an held up a battered tablet, her smile dazzling against her brown skin. “I’ve got every detail worked out this time, so there’s no way she’ll deny my potato crop proposal.” “Ask her if we can grow pitayas,” said Skye eagerly. Lu’an cast her an uncomfortable glance. “I don’t know what those are.” “Do you know these?” asked Sydney, indicating the analyzer. Lu’an leaned on the counter beside him and studied the display. “They’re botanical derivatives, but not exactly like anything I’ve seen before, even in the archives.” She scrolled through the list, enthralled. “Some of these could definitely have pharmaceutical applications. Amphetamines, nootropics….”

“Edge,” Ash whispered, the connection coalescing in his mind. The others turned to look at him. “What’s Edge?” asked Sydney. “A drug that Colony terranauts take to enhance their senses and stamina.” Skye planted a fist on her hip, coldly triumphant. “Rowan was right. It was making you sick.” “But I’ve taken it for years,” said Ash. “Why would it bother me now?” “Did you stop taking it suddenly after regular dosage?” Sydney asked Ash. “Because your symptoms could be withdrawal.” Ash glowered at Skye, who flushed but didn’t look away. “That would explain a lot.” “Like how a drug-addled Colonist dreamed he was immune to deadly Spores.” Dallas sneered. “Why are you wasting time on his ridiculous claims? You don’t need tests to tell you what the Earthspeaker already knows. If she says this is a false sign, that’s all the proof we need.” “Some of us like facts to reinforce our faith,” said Lu’an pointedly. “The Speaker would never mislead us, Lu’an. Don’t let empty promises from young discontents lead you astray.” Dallas flicked his eyes toward Sydney as he spoke, then touched Lu’an’s shoulder. “There is greater reward to be found in wisdom and maturity.” He drew fingers slowly from her sleeve as he left the ward. Sydney made an aggressive move after him, but Lu’an grasped his arm. “If we want him to stop, let’s figure out that vaccine,” she murmured. “ all the results for me and I’ll ask Madurai’s permission to compare them against plants in the archive.” “Did I ever tell you that you’re wonderful?” said Sydney, connecting the tablet to the analyzer. Lu’an flashed her brilliant smile. “You can tell me later. I’ll be working on the bioreactor tonight. Alone.” Their fingers brushed as she took her device and

hurried away. Sydney stared after her with his eyes out of focus. “Never mind the Edge components,” said Skye impatiently. “We need to prove Ash’s immunity to Aspergillus, and we can’t do that without a Spore sample.” She slid off the counter and headed for the door. “Where are you going?” asked Ash. “The archive, of course.” “You’re not allowed to go anywhere without an escort,” said Sydney, shaken from his daze. “Speaker’s orders.” “Then hurry up.” Skye disappeared into the tunnel. “I wouldn’t put it past Madurai to pull that sample just to keep it from us. We need to get it before she does.”

4

Dust

“Madurai doesn’t give just anyone permission to visit the archive!” Sydney protested again. “That’s why I’m not asking her.” Skye jumped the ladder’s final rungs and drifted onto the antechamber floor, stepping aside to make room for Ash. “And this is why you have to sleep in the Fringe,” muttered Sydney. He leaned against the wall, arms folded. “I’ll wait here. I don’t have patience for Jeddah. She’s crazy.” I suppose that’s why she’s the only person here who looks me in the face. Skye pressed the button drilled into the stone beside the archive’s entrance and a distant buzzer rang. She snuck a sideways glance at Ash, seeking the subtle signs she’d learned to identify in his imive expressions. Anxiety lurked in the tight lines of his cheek. The faint crease between his eyebrows betrayed annoyance. And the slight dent in his lower lip where he chewed at the inside…. He’s afraid. Well, that makes two of us. The tension gnawing at Skye’s chest since arriving at Mare Ingenii bit a little deeper. Will he be happy to see what we’ve got here, or will he go back to hating me? Their blurred reflections in the foil stirred, merging together and twisting apart. A lined face peered around the curtain’s edge. “Where have you been drifting, island child?” said Jeddah with a gentle smile. “All the way to the mainland. And I brought someone back with me. This is Ash,” she said, nudging him forward for inspection. Jeddah’s frost-colored lashes widened in delight. “Ash!” she exclaimed, beaming. “I know you!”

“I don’t think so,” Ash mumbled. “I’m not from—” “Come in and meet your family!” Jeddah caught his hand and tugged him forward. Taken off balance, Ash stumbled through the foil. A thud, a curse, and Skye stepped inside to find him rubbing his shins where they’d slammed into the rugged wheel of Jeddah’s chair. He quickly averted his eyes from the old woman’s legs, atrophied sticks swamped in the lower half of a jumpsuit. “Sorry, I didn’t realize….” Unperturbed, Jeddah tapped a control pad on the chair’s arm and hummed in time with the motor as it crawled along the rocky floor. “What happened to her?” Ash whispered. “Some accident. No one ever told me what.” Skye followed Jeddah down the chilly age with Ash limping alongside her. “But it affected her brain function, too. She forgets to eat unless someone puts a spoon in her hand, but she has an incredible memory for the archive.” “What kind of archive is this, anyway?” The telltale line on Ash’s forehead etched itself a little deeper. “Like GAEA?” “Not exactly.” Skye led him into the long cavern. Shelves carved into the walls held hundreds of jars in every imaginable size, immaculately ordered and glittering with rime. Ash exhaled incredulity in a misty cloud. “You have a real seed bank? Not just digital DNA sequences?” “I promised you one, didn’t I?” Skye poked him in the arm. He hardly seemed to feel it as he gaped at the nearest niche. Seeds filled many of the jars—black pearls, striped green splinters, glossy-husked nuts—while others held leaves or shriveled berries clinging to twigs. “So these are the specimens the Darksiders stole when they left the Colony,” he murmured. “Not stole. Preserved from alteration,” Skye corrected him. “Jeddah sprouts them every few years to gather viable new seeds, and someday we’ll

reintroduce them all to Earth.” “Here are your brothers!” Jeddah sang, edging in between them. She ed Ash a series of vessels. Puzzled, he scraped the crystals from each label. Fraxinus excelsior. Brittle samaras huddled in the bottom of the jar. Fraxinus caroliniana. A chunk of grooved grey bark. Fraxinus ornus. Faded pink buds so ossified they clattered like stones against the glass. “What are they?” asked Skye, peering over Ash’s shoulder. He cradled the jars in his hands, disbelief and joy illuminating his face. “Species of ash.” Skye laughed. “So you really are named after a tree.” “I’m happy to meet them, but they’re not my brothers,” Ash told Jeddah. Replacing the specimens with reverent care, he selected one of their neighbors and offered it to her. “This is my brother.” The archivist peered at the withered red fruits and nodded. “Crataegus.” “Hawthorne?” Skye guessed, and Ash smiled for the first time since leaving the pole. Jeddah frowned at the date written on the jar. “You’re overdue,” she told Crataegus as if it were a mischievous but indulged child. Laying it tenderly in her lap, she maneuvered herself behind a desk piled with laboratory equipment. Ultraviolet lamps suspended over a rack of seed trays made the workspace a glowing oasis in the center of the room. “Jeddah, before you start, we need your help with another specimen,” said Skye. “I have thousands,” said Jeddah cheerfully. She donned a pair of magnifying goggles and eased the top off the hawthorne jar. “Which one?”

Skye steeled herself with a breath of frigid air. “Aspergillus.” Lenses intensified the alarm in Jeddah’s eyes. “Oh no. I can’t give you that.” “We don’t need a live culture,” Ash assured her. “Besides, it would be a variety from before Sporespread, not the virulent one.” Jeddah shot him a rueful smile. “I can’t give it because I don’t have it. The Speaker holds the Spores.” “Why would Madurai keep it?” asked Ash. “Power.” Skye ground her teeth. “I should have guessed—she’d love the idea of keeping a little dish of humanity’s downfall on her altar. We’ll have to find a way to get it from her.” A chorus of chirps echoed through the room. Ash snapped his gaze around the ceiling. “You have bird species here, too?” Skye swallowed hard against the conditioned dread rising in her blood. “No. That’s the call to assembly.” “Twice a day, eat and pray.” Jeddah giggled. Then she sobered and took Skye’s hands in both of her own. “Rise above the waves, island child.” “They haven’t sunk me yet,” said Skye, kissing the old woman’s cheek. She beckoned to Ash. With a last longing look at the specimens, he followed her back into the tunnel. “Isn’t Jeddah coming?” Skye shook her head. “There aren’t any fancy elevators here. That chair keeps her confined to the archive.” “I wouldn’t mind staying there,” said Ash, awe lingering in his voice. “It’s incredible. If we had those plants in the Shack, they’d all be growing in the greenhouse.” “Packed full of other species’ genes.”

“Better than sitting dormant for a century.” “That’s us,” Skye muttered. They stepped into the antechamber and Sydney sprang up from his slouch. “About time! Come on. If we’re late for assembly, we won’t eat tonight.” “We wouldn’t be missing much,” said Skye, but followed him up the ladder anyway. Chatter hummed in the warren, the idle conversations of two hundred people converging. Madurai will have left her chamber by now. If I can get ahead of the crowd, I can slip in and get the Aspergillus specimen! Abandoning her two companions, Skye ducked down a side age toward the Speaker’s room, and slammed straight into Lu’an. Wetness gleamed in the horticulturist’s eyes. “What’s wrong?” Skye asked. “Nothing, I just—” Sydney caught up and frowned. “Lu’an, what happened? You’re shaking.” “Madurai didn’t want to discuss my crop proposal at all.” A tear drew a glimmering path between Lu’an's freckles. “She named a mate.” Sydney groaned. “Who did she give you?” “Dallas.” “Dallas?” Sydney repeated with disgust. “He’s almost old enough to be your father! Besides, he and Florence already have Chiba—why would he get a second child?” “Madurai thinks he’s an excellent genetic specimen and wants further distribution of his DNA,” said Lu’an through clenched teeth. “An excellent sycophant, maybe. And he’s been eyeing you for years.” Fine muscles twitched in Sydney’s jaw. “You’re his reward for being Madurai’s faithful er.”

Cold rage cracked Lu’an’s voice. “He can have me when he hauls my drowned, dripping corpse from the bioreactor tanks.” Sydney grasped her shoulders. “Don’t talk like that.” “I won’t let her force me, Syd. If that’s my only way out….” “It doesn’t have to be,” said Skye quietly. The pair turned to her, startled. “There’s Earth.” Lu’an stared at her, then at Sydney. “Would you go with me?” she whispered. “I’d go with you anywhere,” said Sydney. “But we don’t even know the damn vaccine is real yet. Jeddah didn’t have any Aspergillus samples. Without that, I can’t create a definitive test.” Determination shone through the wet lines on Lu’an’s face. “Some of the antibiotic molds we grow are in the Erythroxylaceae family, same as Aspergillus. I could steal some cultures from the medicine garden. It might be close enough.” “Did I ever tell you you’re wonderful?” Sydney pressed her knuckles against his lips. “Not here,” Lu’an cautioned him, but she smiled. A keening voice stabbed down the tunnel and made them all start; Ash, emerging from the age at last, recoiled with such force that his feet left the floor. “What is that?” he gasped. “The invocation,” said Skye, scrubbing at the sudden eruption of goosebumps on her arms. “Dammit, we’re late!” Lu’an wiped her cheeks hastily dry. “If we sneak in the back, she might not notice.” She led the way to the tunnel’s end and paused in the shadows. Skye peered past her into the vast main cavern. The Exiles knelt on the stone floor, gazes fixed on Madurai. She alone stood, blue and green sleeves rippling like bleached ocean waves with every gesture. “Who was blessed with the most glorious birthright in the solar system?”

she intoned. “We,” the crowd chanted. “Who forsook those gifts and dishonored their bountiful Mother?” “We.” The ingrained catechism slipped off Skye’s tongue before she could catch it. She clamped her mouth shut. The rest of the litany unfurled in her mind and a fragile plan blossomed in its rhythms. “And who must now serve penance for those sins?” “We.” Madurai closed her eyes dramatically, basking in the rays of obedience. Sydney and Lu’an took the opportunity to slip in among the assembly. Ash moved to follow, but Skye threw an arm in front of him. “Wait,” she hissed. The Speaker spread her arms, curved slightly upward like the parabola of a frail radio dish, and lifted her face to the ceiling. “And so we wait in exile, Mother, until you signal your forgiveness—” “Now.” Skye prodded Ash in the back. He staggered forward, boot steps ringing in the high cupola. Every head turned. Whispers slithered through the silence. Clenching her fists to suppress their shaking, Skye strode directly past Madurai with Ash in tow. How’s that for a sign? Two hundred pairs of eyes followed them all the way around the room. Skye folded her legs neatly under herself, arranged her expression into a model of prim attentiveness, and turned toward the Speaker. The rage on the old woman’s face brought her a searing twinge of satisfaction. You’re not the only one who can play mind games, Grandmother. Whether you meant to or not, you taught me well. Finally Madurai resumed, but her smoldering gaze stayed fixed on Skye.

“—until you signal your forgiveness and allow the pure to return home. We are you and you are us, carbon to carbon and stars to dust.” “Stars to dust,” Skye repeated piously with the others. She waited for Madurai to begin distributing the spirulina bars as usual—her mouth shriveled at the thought of eating the tough, chlorophyll-flavored food again —but instead the Speaker surveyed the room with relentless eyes. “And yet,” she added, deviating from the script. “There are some who do not respect the Mother’s healing, who trod upon her wounds in arrogance.” She stalked through the rows until she stood glaring down at Skye. “Tell me, how did you find our Mother?” “Beautiful,” said Skye. The assembly turned toward her and she drew courage from the rapt energy. “Water oceans covered in rainbows, and clouds that blaze orange and pink in the sunrise.” “Seas as dead as our own lunar maria and an atmosphere burning with the poisons we left behind.” Madurai smirked. “You it the Mother still suffers! She is not ready to take us back, just as I’ve said.” Retorts flowed so quickly to Skye’s tongue that she choked on the words. Why do you twist everything I say, you heartless old witch? As she struggled to extricate a sentence from the angry torrent, Ash spoke: “You’re about half right,” he told Madurai. “Our ancestors weren’t very kind to their homeworld. Only the toughest species survive there now. But we’re one of them.” “Don’t lecture me on survival, boy,” Madurai snapped. “We’ve endured here for three generations. It takes discipline. Sacrifice. Selflessness.” “Ash knows that better than anyone,” said Skye. “He took the Mother’s own air into his lungs to save his teammates’ lives, but she spared him so he could return to Luna and tell us it’s time to go home.” Faces in the audience shifted from hostile to curious or even reluctantly impressed. Madurai glared around the cavern, sensing the atmospheric shift. It’s working. She knows there’s too much hope to dismiss.

Madurai looked down her nose at Ash. “These outlandish claims don’t entitle him to breathe our air, eat our food, or absorb our warmth. Only those who help sustain the resources may share in them.” “The Colony is the same way,” said Ash, his tone devoid of inflection, neither deferential nor disrespectful. “I know a lot about Earth species. I can help out in your archive until Sydney finishes testing for the vaccine.” “Contaminate our pure samples with your unclean hands?” asked Madurai, hands fluttering at her throat. “No. Santiago will find work for you on the surface, where you won’t foul our Sanctuary. And when the medical tests show you’re a liar, we will leave you there.” Holding a spirulina bar between her thumb and forefinger, she held it out to Ash. He met her eyes for a long, tense moment. Then he took the food and bit off a corner with the air of one accepting a challenge. Madurai huffed and walked away in a billow of worn fabric, ing out the rest of the meals without a second glance at them. When everyone dispersed to their sleeping niches, Skye led Ash back to the bioreactor room and began unsealing the Fringe tunnel, but he pressed a hand on the foil to halt her. “It’s bad enough I have to be a fake hero for the Colony,” he said, green light harsh on his face. “I won’t be one for your Exiles, too.” “What’s fake? You’re immune to Spores, aren’t you?” asked Skye. “Yes, but there’s nothing mystical about it.” “I never claimed there was. If they want to interpret your arrival as the Mother’s influence, that’s their prerogative.” “Just like it was my prerogative to think that your hints about a genetic discovery on Earth meant a DNA bank,” said Ash. Although he kept his voice low, its angry edge cut at Skye’s ears. “You still haven’t mentioned the mutation, or that the vaccine was an unsanctioned experiment.” “If I had, we’d be dead outside the airlock and the Exiles would have guaranteed their own extinction,” said Skye. “All they need to know right now is that the Mother can accept humans again.”

Ash shook his head in dismay. “I don’t know why Madurai refuses to acknowledge you as her heir. You’re both so gifted at manipulating people. You’re a lot alike.” The accusation twisted Skye’s insides worse than a Hummingbird blast. “I am nothing like her.” Her cry rebounded off the cavern walls: I am nothing. Nothing. Nothing. “Then tell everyone the facts.” “There are no facts down here, Ash, only belief. Earth is scarcely more than a myth. No one here has even seen her in the sky, much less set foot on her. All we have is this—” Skye slapped a hand against the stone wall “—and this.” She stabbed a finger at her own skull. “We have to pry them out of their heads before we’ll pry them out of their holes.” “Well, you’re not going to use me as leverage.” Skye dug fingernails into the stone. “I thought we were in this together. Allies.” “I thought so, too, but you’re still keeping things from me. You’re just like this damn moon—always half hidden. I can’t trust someone who lives on their own secret dark side.” Ash shoved through the foil without a backward glance, leaving Skye alone among the tanks. Aquarium light rippled around her like the Pacific waves she’d watched from the Vator’s canteen. Still a stupid island. Why did I think that would ever change? She ducked into the Fringe with a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold.

5

Judgment

“Now I know why the Shack is falling apart,” Ash grumbled, struggling to grip the metal strut in oversized borrowed gloves. Skye glared at him, her faceplate a vengeful sun on the bar’s canted horizon, and deliberately let go of her end. The sudden weight almost dropped Ash to the regolith, but Skye caught it again before he fell. Now I know how she got strong enough to manage Earth gravity. “Be careful with that! Parts are hard to come by, so don’t damage them if you want to see this ship finished in your lifetimes,” Santiago’s voice onished them through the helmet transmitter. He directed Ash and Skye to maneuver the ungainly spar into place. Vertical, it stood three times Ash’s height, framing the outline of a rocket booster. “What was this, a from one of our heliostats?” Ash asked. “Why don’t you carry it home and find out?” Snapping off her communicator, Skye swung herself up into the scaffolding around the shuttle and disappeared. Why are you still upset with her? The voice in the back of his mind, the one that sounded like Thorn, chided him. You’ve hardly spoken in days. It’s not fair to shut her out like this. It’s not fair to use me as ideological bait, either. I never asked to be responsible for converting a bunch of crazy troglodytes. Neither did she. “It’s not all stolen from your Colony, you know,” said Santiago. He handed Ash a bag of bolts and gestured for him to begin fitting them into the frame. “The same corporation that built the Shackleton station tried to land robotic mining equipment on the far side maria, hoping to get a head start on the helium-3 rush. But the transport crashed and no one recovered it

until the first Exiles arrived. The wreckage furnished parts for half the Sanctuary. I wonder if it would’ve comforted those entrepreneurs to know their loss accidentally saved humanity.” He made a dry wheezing sound that Ash took to be laughter. “So this is the lost transport?” he asked. Santiago indicated a triangular logo on the hull, the words faded beyond legibility. “We used most of the framework, but a lot of key components are missing. We don’t have the capacity to make them ourselves, so….” He gave a doleful smile. “Don’t blame Skye for the poaching. Blame me. Refitting the ship was my idea.” Ash stared up at the patchwork structure. “Does it work?” “That depends on what it’s intended to do,” said Santiago, aligning a bracket. “If it’s supposed to take us back to Earth, then no—at least not until I can adapt our reactor design for use aboard a spacecraft. But it works marvelously as a source of false hope.” He spoke without irony, a placid utterance of fact. “What do you mean?” “Madurai lets the youngsters help me because building a ship feels like building a future. It distracts them until they resign themselves to life on a dead moon.” Santiago nodded across the skylight floor: a lanky boy called Dakar welded two hull plates together, while Chiba hammered out dents in a salvaged exhaust vent. Both worked with energy and focus that reminded Ash of veteran terranauts eager for points. “It’s cruel to bring children into a place like this. Make them grow up underground, scraping for food and air, just so we can keep our pathetic species alive for a few more years. As if what we did to the Mother wasn’t proof enough of our selfishness, now we make our own offspring suffer.” “You would know,” said Ash. The words slipped out before he could stop them. Santiago stopped ratcheting bolts. “Did Skye tell you I was her father?” “Are you?”

“I might have been, in a different universe. Geneva and I were close. But even if I hadn’t been opposed to reproduction on this miserable moon, I wasn’t on Madurai’s shortlist of genetic gems to sire her successors.” “I can’t believe she pairs people up,” said Ash, recalling Lu’an’s despair outside the Speaker’s chamber, so contrary to the thrilled adoptive parents he’d spotted leaving the Repro Lab a month ago. “She tries to, but it’s not an easy thing to control. I don’t know who Geneva ultimately chose, but everyone assumed she preferred me to the sanctioned candidates. We didn’t contradict the rumors, since they got me off the hook for contributing to the gene pool and spared Geneva questions she wanted to avoid.” Santiago glanced up at Skye, who was hammering parts into place with unnecessary vigor. “It doesn’t matter who her father is—she’s all Geneva. Same looks, same smarts, same stubbornness when she thinks she’s right. How’d you fall in with her, anyway?” “I needed a ‘ship’ and she crashed into me,” Ash muttered. The dry chuckle buzzed inside Santiago’s helmet again. “She can’t have been all false hope, or you wouldn’t have come this far.” Ash sighed. “No. We’d never have known Earth was still habitable if it wasn’t for her.” Even if she did hide it from me at first. Maybe I was her ship, too—a desperate long shot at getting off Luna. Watching Skye in the scaffold, her relentless movements framed in the Exiles’ skeletal hopes, his anger ebbed. If that were the only thing she wanted, she would have stayed on Earth. But she stayed with me. We’re flying this imaginary ship together, and without both of us at the controls, it will never reach escape velocity. He worked the next few hours in pensive silence, racking his brain for words that might repair the rift. But once they piled into the airlock, Skye started off the moment she’d hung up her suit. “Wait up,” Ash called after her, tugging on his boots as he followed. All the tunnels looked the same, and he lost her at the first turn. How does anyone find their way here? “Ash!” Sydney hurried toward him, out of breath.

““Did you find a test that worked?” asked Ash. That would bring Skye around! “Yes, but Dallas saw the results before I did. He—” A shriek from the tunnel’s end obliterated all other sound. “The sign!” The harsh note of triumph in Madurai’s voice made Ash shudder. He bolted toward it, Sydney on his heels, and careened into the massive domed cavern. The evening assembly had gathered, but instead of a single figure drawing all eyes, there were two: Skye and Madurai at opposite ends of the room. Skye stood with her back to Ash, spine arched and fists clenched. From the fall of her hair he knew her chin was raised in defiance. Across from her, Madurai held a tablet high. “This is your so-called sign! Your own tests reveal your lies, intended to tempt us from our Sanctuary and defile us with engineered genes. This boy is no more immune to Spores than any of our perished ancestors.” She pointed a sharp fingernail at Ash and looked around at her followers. “I know some of you hoped this would be our deliverance. And I will forgive your loss of faith, if you are prepared to purge these impurities from our midst.” A few of the Exiles roared assent, but most of them just looked wary. Ash’s feet seemed rooted to the rock. But I breathed Earth air without getting infected. How can the immunity test be negative? “Humans can survive on Earth and call it home again.” Skye’s voice echoed his thoughts, with a tremble that might have been fear. “I will swear it by the stars!” The phrase left stunned silence in its wake. Every face in the room turned to Skye, who stood as rigid as the ancient lava flows around her, hot defense cooling into something hard and implacable. “I invoke the Judgment of the Stars. May they take back the gifts they’ve given me if I fail to speak truth in their presence.” Madurai scoffed. “Only the Mother’s true Children can be judged, not traitors like you.”

“I have the blood of the first Exile. Your mother’s blood,” Skye reminded her. “Are you questioning the purity of her genes?” “The stars will not judge you kindly for such blasphemy.” Madurai’s eyes glittered behind their scraggly curtain of hair. “Take her to the surface.” Florence and Tomsk, the nearest to Skye, seized her by the elbows and marched her out so forcefully that her toes barely skimmed the floor. She didn’t resist, but when they ed Ash she tore momentarily free and leaned close to him. Purple striations around her pupils shone vivid with terror and resolve. “Get out,” she whispered. Then she was gone, hauled into the tunnel and out of sight. Exclamations erupted in the cavern. Ash turned to Sydney, but the junior medic had disappeared. Bewildered, he tried to follow Skye into the age, but someone coming the other way caught his arm. “You can’t help her now,” said Santiago in a low voice. “What did she just agree to do?” The chief engineer shook his head in dismay. “It’s a stupid old custom. You know how the elements that formed Earth came from the hearts of stars billions of years ago? Since we’re of the Mother, we’re composed of those star particles, too. Madurai believes those incorruptible atoms will expose any lies when we merge ourselves with the universe.” “And how exactly do you do that?” “Dive into the Mare Ingenii shaft. Without a suit.” Ash stared at him. “Space exposure? That’s suicide.” “That’s our way,” said Santiago grimly. “If she survives, it means she’s telling the truth. The stars have spoken and not even Madurai can denounce her.” “But no one can survive that!” A miserable helpless feeling welled in Ash’s chest, almost the way he’d felt when the infection sensor in Thorn’s de-con pod had flared red.

“A few people have, although they might wish otherwise.” “Like who?” Ash glanced around at the shocked, muttering Exiles. “Jeddah. How do you think she ended up in that chair? She shattered both legs when she landed and the oxygen deprivation affected her brain.” “What had she done?” “Nothing. She volunteered to go as a proxy for someone else.” “Who?” Santiago looked at the floor a long moment before responding. “Geneva. She invoked Star Judgment when Madurai accused her of conspiring with Colonists on her trips to the pole. Jeddah insisted on taking her place. Skye was just a newborn, and Jeddah said it wouldn’t be fair to leave her orphaned.” “So she jumped naked into a crater.” “Skylight. Totally different geology.” “The end result is the same!” Images burst into Ash’s mind: Skye reduced to white bones like so many he’d seen in Earth’s vacant cities or, possibly worse, crumpled in a chair with her lively blue eyes gone vacant. He shook himself hard. “What can I do?” “Exactly what Skye told you to do,” said Santiago. “Run while everyone’s distracted. Once Madurai and her witnesses drive up to the rim, I can get you a vehicle. Head due south and you’ll make the pole in a few days.” “What about Skye?” Santiago gave him a sympathetic look. “Name something after her when you return to Earth. A tree. A lake. A daughter. But don’t come back here again.” “And let a third of the remaining humans go extinct?”

“They’re already dead, Ash,” said Santiago, with weary impatience. “They’re living in their own tomb. Geneva tried to save them, and so did Skye, but this place is a black hole—it sucks everyone in. Skye just gave you a chance to escape the gravity. Don’t waste it.”

⁂

Back to the gear, the bulky boots and gloves. Florence helped Madurai fold her stiff elderly frame into a suit. The medics muttered in a corner, staging their equipment. Sydney found a pretext to walk past as Skye put on her helmet and whispered, “Whatever you do, don’t hold your breath.” Back through the airlock, the precious gasses hissing away. Goodbye, oxygen and nitrogen. I’ll miss you. Back up the vehicle ramp in slow rings like one of the big dark birds spiraling on the drafts over Goldstone. Skye focused on everything she ed of Earth, trying to relive it one last time in memory, but only got as far as the quadcopter crash by the time they reached the surface. Crashing into two different worlds. If I survive this, I’ll go to Mars with Ash and try for three. The idea brought her a wry smile, and Florence looked askance at her as she climbed out of the rover. They walked a short distance along the edge, stopping beside a large flat rock. Skye scrambled onto it herself while Florence and Tomsk lifted the Speaker reverently by the arms. They flanked Skye on three sides, no escape but the pit behind her. “From stardust was our Mother born, and through her we claim descent. All that we are, we have borrowed from the universe.” Madurai’s words droned through the helmet’s earpiece. “Today one of the Children offers her atoms back to the vastness. If her particles are pure, may her life burn on in the void like the stars that made her. But if she has polluted those sacred atoms with lies, let the universe deem her unworthy of the gift and reclaim

what it bestowed.” She turned to Skye. “Do you swear before your celestial origins that you speak true?” “Yes,” said Skye, staring defiantly back. Last time I swore by a star, I was sitting on a rooftop on Earth, promising Ash I wouldn’t beat him up anymore. His face came clear to her mind—moonlight silvering his dark hair, the shadow of a smile when she’d made the facetious vow. Madurai’s eyes, malicious shards behind her faceplate, gleamed eagerly. “You conceal nothing within the cosmic particles entrusted to you?” “I….” Skye’s gaze dropped to the regolith. You’ve made me conceal everything, Grandmother. Everything I’ve thought or felt for years, just to breathe another day. I’ve been concealing for so long, I don’t know how to be any other way. Ash was right—I live on my own dark side, and he was the only one who came close enough to the terminator to see it. An ironic laugh caught in her throat. My ticket to Earth ended up being the closest thing I have to a friend. And I didn’t even say goodbye to him. “Do you swear?” Madurai repeated. Skye lifted her face to the galaxy overhead, imagining concrete under her boots instead of regolith and the ruined skyline of Fort Irwin instead of the maria’s hills. They’re the same stars. Pretend Madurai isn’t here, and you’re promising to Ash again. You meant it then. “I swear,” she whispered. Madurai gave a sanctimonious nod. “Then may the stars judge you justly.” With the ring of onlookers at her back, Skye crept to the edge of rock. The Mare Ingenii shaft yawned before her, black and bottomless. Her hands shook so much that she couldn’t uncinch her boots. I bet Geneva wasn’t scared when she approached the Colony. I bet she just marched right up to the Shack and hammered on the airlock door. I have her blood. Maybe I have her bravery, too. The trembling subsided. Skye loosened all the suit’s straps and seals, the hiss of escaping air accelerating her heartbeat. Goosebumps covered her

limbs as frigid lunar temperatures crept onto her skin. Fifteen seconds. Once the helmet comes off, you only have fifteen seconds until your brain shuts down and you out. You endured five years of misery by yourself in this place. Just fifteen seconds and it’s all over. Her cheeks felt stiff and dry—tears were freezing on her face. She stared into the mouth of the skylight, then raised her eyes to the stars. Better to die in the wild than live in a cage. The loosened suit came off with a shrug. Cold seized her body. Skye expelled the air from her lungs, tore off her helmet, and fell forward into numb darkness.

6

Proof

The body the medics carried in from the airlock didn’t look like Skye at all. Through the top of the hyperbaric pod, Ash glimpsed limbs swollen to nearly twice their normal size and scorched raw with ultraviolet. He looked to the medics, hoping for a reassuring glance, but the tinted faceplates revealed nothing. “Is she alive?” he asked the minute their helmets came off. If they heard him they didn’t respond, just hurried out with the disfigured form between them. Ash tried to follow, but his legs wouldn’t work. He slid down the wall to the floor. Something poked his thigh—rooting in his pocket, he discovered the syzygy medal, forgotten in the rush of events. He clenched it until Mars’ spear drew blood from his palm. After all she teased me about being a martyr! Now she’ll never leave this place. I probably won’t, either. There’ll be no deal with the Colony. There’s no one here to help me now. Isolation crashed over him, cold and suffocating as the lunar surface outside. The stone walls seemed to contract. Halley smokes, is this how Skye felt all the time? She was living in a vacuum long before she took that dive. No wonder she tried to escape it and find an ally…and I tossed her right back in. A lugubrious shadow slid into the room. “You should have stayed on Earth,” said Santiago, staring after the medics. Ash dropped his head into his hands. “We both should have. Skye warned me people here would be hard to convince, but I made her come back anyway.” Santiago gave a quiet snort. “No one’s ever made that child do anything she didn’t want to, not even Madurai. If she followed your plan, it’s because she trusted you.” “She should have known better,” said Ash bitterly. Thorn trusted me to stay in that flooded city past nightfall, and he got red-ringed. My team trusted

me on the dive to Goldstone, and not everyone made it back. When I lead, people get hurt. “Going along with me, even after some of the things I said to her lately….” He swallowed hard. “You were half-delirious when she brought you in here,” Santiago reminded him. “Sydney said you had a lot of unhealthy chemicals on board. Who knows how that’s been affecting you?” “So it was just the Edge talking?” Ash’s head snapped up, cracking his neck. “Just the Edge talking! It wasn’t Rowan’s vaccine that protected me from Spores. It was something in the pills!” He dashed off through the lava tubes, hardly seeing the walls through the giddy haze of epiphany. It all makes sense. Whatever Valerian put in his new formula, it protected me and Linden both from infection. It had cycled out of my blood by the time Sydney tested it here—just traces left, not enough to kill Spores—but if we can figure out what it was…. Across a ledge, down a ladder, and into the emerald glow of the bioreactor room. “Lu’an! Are you down here?” She peered out from the maze of pipes, harvested spirulina dripping from a skimmer in her hand. “Ash? What are you—” “Do you still have that chemical analysis of my samples?” Wiping her hands on her jumpsuit, the horticulturist pulled out her tablet. “I think so. Why?” “The vaccine is there!” Her freckles contracted in a frown. “But Dallas showed us the test results. You didn’t have any antibodies for Spores.” “No. It wasn’t immunity.” Ash pointed to the compounds listed on the readout. “Something in the drugs I was taking neutralized the Spores and

protected me from infection. Can you get more of those mold cultures for testing?” “Yes—I started some extras on the sly in case Sydney needed them.” She stared at him, green light dancing across her face. “I knew when you arrived that it had to be the sign.” “It wasn’t a sign. It was Skye, trying to get you all home,” said Ash, jogging toward the archive with the tablet under his arm. No one stopped him in the tunnels or even cast the suspicious looks he’d come to expect. People clustered in intersections and entryways, whispering: “…still alive, I heard. Must be the Mother’s true Daughter, favored by all the stars….” “…no one would risk that for some Colony trick….” “…but how can we return if there’s no cure for the Spores?” Because I’m going to make one! Ash jumped down the ladder and rang the archive’s buzzer. A century seemed to before Jeddah’s face peeked around the foil. “Jeddah, I need your help,” said Ash, breathless with urgency. “One of the chemicals on this list can kill Spores, and if we can identify which one….” Without a word, the archivist retreated slowly behind her curtain. “Hey, this is important!” Ash shoved through after her. Jeddah sealed the door and turned her chair to face him. “How is Skye?” she asked earnestly. “I—what?” Ash stared at the old woman, taken aback by her sudden lucidity. The eyes peering at him now shone alert, all glassiness gone. “But you….” “Find it more convenient to let people believe I’m addle-brained. Fewer awkward questions, and no one expects me to participate in Madurai’s tedious sermons.” Jeddah laid a finger to her lips. “Now please, how is

she?” “I don’t know,” said Ash. “The medics brought her inside, so maybe…at least, I hope….” His throat closed over the words. “Brave but reckless, just like Geneva. If only I could have spared her, too.” Jeddah tapped her atrophied legs and sighed. “Santiago said you volunteered to take Geneva’s place in that insane trial. Why?” “To save Skye, of course. Do you know how hard we worked to get that girl? It took months of fiddling to get a viable embryo, and then Geneva lost the first few we implanted. I wasn’t about to let our little survivor be motherless, or destroyed by her grandmother’s prejudices. Although I ultimately failed in both those respects.” Cold discomfort prickled down Ash’s neck. “What are you talking about?” “You don’t know? I thought you Colonists must have figured it out. Why else would you follow her here?” “Because she saw a way Colonists and Darksiders could both get the future they want, and I believed her,” said Ash. Jeddah beamed. “The island becomes the bridge! Geneva would have loved that. Now, this list of yours….” She squinted at the tablet. “Carvacrol and carvone? Probably from some species of Origanum. Theobromine, that’s interesting, lots of possible sources for that….” “What about Skye?” Ash prompted, although he wasn’t sure he wanted the answer. Jeddah wheeled around the specimen vault, shifting her attention between the list and the ledges. “Geneva may have been Madurai’s intended successor, but she didn’t think the Mother was going to speak to us down here.” “Well, technically she can’t. Signals from Earth don’t reach the far side of Luna,” said Ash. Ugh, I just referred to Earth as she. I’ve been down here

too long. “That’s why Geneva visited the pole to study the planet’s radio emissions. On one of her expeditions she rescued a stranded, dying Colonist. In his ravings he spoke about life on Earth, and his descriptions convinced Geneva that they had developed a way to survive there.” Jeddah compared two jars, replaced one, and handed Ash the other. “After returning her patient to territory where he’d be found and cared for, Geneva brought back a bit of his hair and asked me to extract his DNA. She said it was the sign we’d waited for, the means for us to return home. Or at least our next generation.” Implications flickered in the shift of her brows. “So I created a diploid cell from Geneva’s own gametes—” “You cloned her?” “Essentially. But I mixed in some of the Colonist’s more interesting genes in hopes of gifting the resultant child with whatever advantages allowed him to survive on Earth.” “So Skye is part Colonist?” asked Ash, the words ringing strange in his ears. Sadness touched Jeddah’s smile. “Why do you think Geneva named her for an island? She’s separate from any of us.” “Does Madurai know?” “Of course. She orders DNA testing on every child born here for her socalled genealogical planning. That’s why she accused Geneva of conspiring with the Colony—she knew some of Skye’s genes couldn’t have come from the Sanctuary.” Part Colonist and engineered in a lab to boot. No wonder Madurai resents her so much. “But why would you help Geneva do that?” Ash’s head throbbed from trying to process so much information. “I thought you were all opposed to genetic meddling.” Jeddah snorted. “Every time we reproduce, we’re meddling. Life forms are

constantly adapting and improving themselves. Look at all these species.” She swept an arm around her frosty cavern. “They only remain viable because I germinate them every few years and catalogue a fresh sample. And every time I do, they change a little bit. We’re no different. What our ancestors did with genetic engineering was irresponsible, no question, but Madurai’s notion of purity is nonsense.” “Everyone here seems to believe it.” Jeddah shrugged and stacked a few more specimens in Ash’s arms. “They’ve never known any other truth. Geneva tried to change their minds and failed. Perhaps her daughter, with the blood of two worlds, can do better.” “She doesn’t know, does she?” Frigid glass stuck to Ash’s hands and left stinging patches of skin. “No. Geneva wanted to tell Skye herself, when she was old enough. She made me promise not to tell her or any of the other Exiles.” A puckish gleam lit Jeddah’s eyes. “But you’re not an Exile, are you? I can tell you, you can tell Skye, and I’ve kept my word. Besides, I think Skye will take it better coming from a friend.” “I haven’t been much of a friend to her,” Ash muttered. “She smiled more in those few minutes you visited me together than in all the time since Geneva died. For almost six years I’ve watched her shrivel up like one of my seedlings deprived of light. But around you, she blooms.” Jeddah added a final jar to Ash’s pile and squeezed his arm. “Just because she’s named for an island doesn’t mean she has to be one all her life.” Crossing to her workstation, she cleared a space for Ash. He lined up the specimens, seeds and twigs blurred behind their crystalline veils. “Skye said you know your species,” said Jeddah, watching him. “The ones on Earth right now, yes, but I don’t know much about the originals.” “Then it’s time you learned.”

As the archivist demonstrated the first steps of DNA extraction, Ash tried not to think about when she’d done it with Geneva. I can’t tell Skye that story—she’ll lose it. He ed how she’d spat a half-chewed pitaya in his face after learning it was genetically engineered. But she has to know. He imagined her in the ward overhead, fighting for her life. I’d tell her anything, if I just get to talk to her again. Donning a pair of goggles, he set to work.

⁂

The meticulous process of analyzing compounds might have driven all else from Ash’s mind, except that everything made him think of Skye. Sheen on seed husks evoked the wicked light in her eyes when she provoked him. An instrument’s chime struck the same pitch as her laughter. Mass spectrum displays resembled electrocardiograms, and he wondered if her heart was still beating. The reminders only strengthened his resolve. He followed Jeddah’s instructions hour after hour, specimen after specimen, until he woke with his head on the counter. The archivist was sealing specimens back in their jars. “Where did I leave off?” asked Ash, yawning. Jeddah glanced over and smiled. “We finished. None of these are an exact match—your Edge must have been made with some of the new Earth varietals—but the active ingredients almost certainly came from these genera.” She nudged the tablet toward him. Colorful graphs and spreadsheets patterned its screen. “Did any of them kill Spores?” In reply, Jeddah pushed a tray of Erythroxylaceae dishes toward him. Mold

blooms in several of them had thinned. Excitement sent Ash’s sleepy pulse racing. It’s working! I have to tell Skye! He snatched up the tablet and scrambled to his feet. Blood rushed to his head, momentarily darkening his vision, but he shook it away and charged through the dim warren of tunnels, almost colliding with Sydney in the medical ward’s entrance. “How is she?” asked Ash, his heart pounding in his throat. “Alive. We recompressed her in time.” Ash’s knees softened with relief. He leaned on the wall to stay upright, barely hearing the rest of Sydney’s explanation: “…had to give her a few radiation treatments from the photon exposure, but the ebullism has gone down and her organ function seems okay. The stars really must favor her.” “Can I see her?” Sydney stood aside with a faint smile and Ash went in. Skye sat on a cot at the ward’s far end. Her skin shone pink with ointment and ultraviolet burns, but she turned toward the sound of his footsteps. “Who is that?” she called in a soft, hoarse voice. “Fraxinus.” Incredulity animated her face. “What are you doing here? Where are you?” “I’m right here. Can’t you see me?” asked Ash, perching on the edge of the cot. “I see a blurry lump sitting on my foot.” Skye groped forward and managed to punch him in the nose. “Sorry. Hypoxia-induced blindness. Sydney says it will go away.” Ash caught her hand and pressed it back onto the covers, keeping his own

lightly on top of it. Just so she knows I’m still here. But Skye’s fingers curled into a fist. “You should have gone back to the Shack. My people are hopeless, I see that now, but you might have convinced the Colonists about Earth. I made myself a liar to give you a chance to escape.” “No, you didn’t.” Ash explained his realization and the experiments, reading figures aloud from the tablet. Skye’s unfocused eyes widened to blue pools of amazement. When he finished she laughed, peals of chromebright sound filling the ward and the last of the dark, anxious places in Ash’s chest. “Now I wish I hadn’t flushed your pills,” she said. “It’s okay, I know where Valerian kept them. We’ll go back to GEO and get more. Just to analyze the composition,” Ash added when Skye made a disapproving face. “I’m not going to take it again. I don’t like what it did to me.” “You don’t want superhuman senses and stamina?” “They’re great, until they fade and leave my brain synapses all tangled up.” Ash paused, waiting for Skye to speak and spare him the confession, but she stayed quiet. He took a deep breath and forged on. “Like the way I’ve been the past few weeks. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to act that way—at least I don’t think I did. After two years of taking that stuff, I don’t know what was Edge and what was really me.” “I know,” said Skye. Her hand unfolded beneath his palm, fingers twining between his like resilient plant tendrils shooting up through barren ground. “The real you is the person who believed me when no one else did.” Embarrassed warmth swept up Ash’s collar. “Well, lots of people seem to believe you now. Everyone’s talking about it. And about Earth.” A smile drew blood meridians on her cracked lips. “Then it worked.” The click of tiles echoed in Ash’s memory and he recalled Skye’s dangerous gambits in their games on the Vator. “And what if it hadn’t?” he asked,

tightening his grip on her hand. “Then you’d have led the Colonists to Earth. At least, if you’d escaped like you were supposed to.” Traces of the familiar Colonist features emerged from Skye’s stubborn expression. It’s faint, but it’s there. I don’t know how I missed it before. I guess I expected some kind of alien, so that’s what I saw. But now…. “What is it?” Skye cocked her head, sensing his silence if not his stare. Telling her now won’t help anything. I’ll wait until she’s recovered and strong enough to hear it. “It’s not important right now. Just rest.” Skye snorted. “No time for that.” She slid out from under the blanket, hissing as the fabric skimmed over her raw skin. “Where are you going?” asked Ash, alarmed. “Home.” Stiff but steady, she headed for the sickbay door. Ash took her arm to help her, but she waved him away and navigated the tunnels with the eerie precision of a creature trapped too long in its maze. When she ed the ladder to the lower level, Ash paused. “The Fringe is this way,” he called. “Why would I go there?” “You said home.” “I meant Earth. But there’s something we need first.” Skye stopped outside the Speaker’s chamber, leaned against the entrance to listen, and slipped through the curtain. “We need the old Aspergillus sample from Madurai. You’ll have to be my eyes.” “What am I looking for?” “The relics.”

Ash glanced around the dim chamber. “All I see is a little table full of junk.” “That’s the altar, with all her artifacts from Earth. That’s probably where she keeps the Spores.” Ash riffled through the assortment of oddities. Tarnished metal currency and stones made a geometric pattern on a scrap of rich fabric. A bleached conch shell sat at the design’s center. “Where’d she get all this stuff?” he asked. “From her mother, the first Exile.” “She must’ve been one of the children who escaped Sporespread on the Vator.” Moving aside a tattered postcard of a spire gleaming amid a neon-lit city, Ash opened a wooden box. Inside lay a piece of translucent resin smaller than his fist. He held it to the light and gasped at the feathery pattern trapped inside. “What is it?” Skye asked, reaching out a tentative hand. “It’s a fossil,” breathed Ash. “Madurai’s got a piece of amber with fossilized fungus inside. Halley smokes, this isn’t just an old Earth species, it’s ancient! How in the galaxy did she get this?” Foil whispered at the far end of the tunnel. “She’s coming!” hissed Skye. Jamming the amber chunk into his pocket, Ash closed the box’s lid and spun into the beam of Madurai’s baleful green eyes.

7

Relics

The silence wasn’t silent at all. Skye’s ears discerned the faint rattle in Madurai’s lungs, the whir of air circulating through the ducts, the soft rustle of Ash’s clothes as he moved to stand between her and her grandmother. She braced herself for the barrage of epithets: Traitorous gene scum, befouling the Speaker’s room…. It didn’t come. “So the stars found your atoms true,” said Madurai in a hard, quiet voice. “But that’s not good enough for you, is it?” Skye shot back. “It’s not my place to question their judgment. If they upheld your claim, I will not refute it.” She drew a ragged breath. “But their favor doesn’t negate your impurity, or make him an emissary from the Mother.” “I never claimed to be,” said Ash. “I’m an emissary from Shackleton Colony, and I’m certain our leaders will trade you age to Earth in exchange for helium-3.” “We have the Ship. We don’t need your help to make our final voyage.” “But you need it to make the vaccine. The Spore-fighting components came from species we collected on Earth recently. You don’t have them in your archive, but we do.” “It’s the best chance we’ve ever had,” said Skye. Her throat still burned from the skylight’s airless cold, but the words felt good nonetheless. “The Exiles broke from the Colony because they saw a better path. Maybe it’s time to diverge again.” “No one will follow you,” Madurai told her disdainfully. “They need guidance from the Earthspeaker, the Mother’s voice in this cruel void.” “Maybe you should stop speaking and listen.” Skye felt along the wall for

the assembly call button and punched it. Birdsong trilled through the caves. Casting a defiant look at the grey blur she thought was Madurai, she marched toward the exit with Ash at her elbow. They waited in the main cavern while people filtered in around them. Scuffs and sniffles, footsteps and fidgets, the unglamorous background noise of living creatures. She didn’t need to see their faces to know everyone turned toward her, curious and eager. When she spoke of Earth, the words hardly seemed to echo—the listeners absorbed every syllable. Ash ed the tablet among them, explaining what he’d found. Skin whispered on metal as it ed swiftly from hand to hand. Murmurs of assent. Excitement. They believe it. They believe me. I can take them home. As confidence bloomed in her chest, the voice behind her made it wither at the root. “Perhaps my granddaughter has heard this whisper from the Mother—our line has always had the gift. But we mustn’t let hope for the promised paradise blind us to the dangers that remain,” said Madurai, a touch of silkiness not quite veiling the edge in her words. “Dealing with the Colonists will be treacherous. My young heir will need wisdom and experience to guide her. If this is indeed our path out of Exile, I will lead the way.”

⁂

“There seems to be an inverse correlation between how close we get to the Shack and how much you talk,” Skye observed. “You're even quieter than usual.” Ash shrugged, but his knuckles on the controls shone stark as the hills outside the rover’s windshield. “Everyone went a little crazy the first time you showed up, and you were just one Darksider. Now we’ve got seven.” “Including that egomaniacal old hag.” The annoyance seething under Skye’s skin since leaving Mare Ingenii surged up for the hundredth time. “She practically denies my existence for years, and suddenly I’m her

beloved heir again? I think I liked it better when she denounced me.” “Maybe she wants to make up for how she treated you,” said Ash dubiously. Skye snorted. “She still hates me, Ash. She’s just afraid of losing followers because people would rather come with me to Earth.” “How are your eyes?” “Still a bit fuzzy, but mostly better.” “Then look behind us.” Ash placed fingers gently on the top of her head and turned it toward the rear porthole. A trio of antique rovers trundled across the polar landscape in their wake. “Madurai isn’t the one who risked her life for them and convinced them to leave their hideout for the first time in generations,” said Ash. “If she thinks she can stop people following you, she’s too late.” “But she still had to come along, like it was all her idea,” Skye muttered. “I bet she’s just as curious about Earth as everyone else. Anyone who kept all those old Earth souvenirs must be desperate to know what it’s really like.” “Can I see the Sporestone again?” Ash pulled the piece of amber from his pocket and ed it to her. She turned it over in her hands, marveling at the delicate mold blooms frozen inside. “And I always thought her relics were sentimental rubbish,” she murmured. “I wonder how her mother got it.” “I’m sure we’ll have the whole story screamed at us when Madurai realizes we stole it.” “We didn’t steal it. If I’m the heir, then I’ll inherit all the artifacts. I just took this one early.” Skye pressed the fossilized resin to her eye, turning the Shack’s distant domes to syrupy orange bubbles. The space elevator’s cable

shimmered against the black sky. A voice burst through the comm system, and she almost dropped the relic in surprise. “Unauthorized vehicle, you are approaching Shackleton Colony territory. Identify yourself.” “It’s Holly,” Skye muttered. “Think she’ll try to kill us again?” “You don’t know it was her last time,” said Ash. But he spoke cautiously when he pushed the button to transmit. “Chief Holly, it’s Ash.” A pause fizzed through the device before Holly replied. “You disappear with one rover and come back with three. Care to explain that?” “I went to visit the neighbors,” said Ash dryly. “The leader from the dark side requests a meeting with Everest and the council.” “Madurai never agreed to a meeting,” Skye reminded him when he stopped transmitting. “I didn’t say Madurai. I said the leader. She’s sitting right here.” He studied her with a succession of clandestine glances. Why does he keep looking at me like he’s never seen me before? “You're staring at me again.” Heat stung her cheeks. “Are the ultraviolet burns still that bad?” “No. You look normal.” “Normal for a Darksider, you mean. I’ll never blend in with all you matching Colonists,” she teased. Ash didn't smile, just looked determinedly forward. She poked his arm. “Just because you don't say anything doesn't mean you aren't communicating. What’s wrong?” Ash ran a hand through his hair, raising soft dark peaks. “There's something I need to tell you about—”

The dashboard crackled. “You’ve been granted entry. Park the vehicles outside and we’ll open the sector three airlock for you,” said Holly. Skye relayed the instructions to the convoy and Ash drove around the habitat, stopping the rover a hundred meters from the wall. “Ready when you are,” said Ash, adding mischievously, “Speaker.” Nerves made Skye’s throat too tight for a playful retort. She swung herself through the suitport and detached from the rover. Suits twitched to life on the back of the other vehicles. In a few minutes the other Exiles clustered around her, almost anonymous behind their tinted faceplates. She beckoned them through the grey dust. The airlock stood open, waiting. Skye recognized it with a shiver. Last time I was in here, I was a prisoner. Now I’m…what? A guest? An ambassador? An infiltrator? All of them packed inside. Gases hissed in until a light on the wall glowed green. Skye removed her helmet and, one by one, the others followed. Lu’an knelt to tap the lunarcrete, mystified. Sydney assessed the others with a medic’s critical gaze. Terror etched every line of Chiba’s face, the opposite of imive Dakar who stood with folded arms, unmoving. Santiago rubbed at the dark crescents under his eyes. Madurai glared at Skye and said nothing. Well, I got them here. Was that the hard part, or the easy part? The inner door rattled open to a chorus of earsplitting whines: two dozen security officers poured in with Hummingbirds primed to fire, surrounding the visitors with a cordon of sleek black armor. “We don’t have any weapons,” said Skye, raising her open palms as proof. “We just came to—” A sonic beam buzzed so close that it raised hairs on her neck. “There aren’t enough humans left for us to start blasting each other,” Ash snapped at the shooter. “They’re not humans, they’re Darksiders.” An opaque face shield muffled

Holly’s voice, but not the revulsion in her tone. A soft but powerful command rang from the doorway. “And they are unarmed. Stand down!” The officers hesitated, then lowered their guns and stood aside to it a tall humanoid figure. Slow, precise steps brought him forward. A mechanical exoskeleton glinted beneath his robe, ing a body as old and weathered as Luna itself. Skye bit her lip to hold back an exclamation. Everest. So he’s real after all, not just a monster of Madurai’s imagination. Everest’s green eyes swept over the group, halting on Madurai. He stared at her without a word. Silence thickened in the airlock until Skye could hear Ash’s breathing in nervous counterpoint to her own. Then Everest’s ancient face unfurled in a smile and he spread his arms wide. “My darling Rose. You’ve come home at last.”

V. Red Shift

1

Lineage

“My darling Rose,” said Everest, his mechanical exoskeleton purring as he spread his arms to welcome Madurai. “You’ve come home at last.” Skye stared between the Colony’s ancient leader and her grandmother. Rose? She glanced at Ash, seeking confirmation, but his expression reflected her own blank shock. The other Exiles gaped at their Speaker. Madurai lifted her chin and regarded Everest with regal disdain. “You’ve mistaken me for someone else. I am Madurai, Earthspeaker for the Exiles.” “I could never mistake my own granddaughter, even if it has been more than seventy years since you left the Colony,” said Everest, his voice still warm. “You look so like your mother.” Madurai, Everest’s granddaughter? But that makes me…. “I’ve never set foot inside your miserable Colony before, and I’m beginning to regret doing so now,” Madurai snapped. Sorrow drooped the folds of Everest’s face. “Of course you don’t . You were just a baby when your mother took you away.” “You’re mad,” said Madurai, but she trembled so much that her spacesuit’s loose components rattled. Color drained from her face, except for the vivid green eyes —eyes mirrored in the ancient man across the room. “How did you get that scar on your hand?” Everest asked gently. Madurai yanked her hand inside her sleeve, but not before every gaze in the room fixed on the long scar it bore. “An identity tag,” Ash murmured. “I should have realized it sooner.” Everest nodded, still looking at Madurai. “Your mother cut out your Colony tag, along with her own and those of her followers, when she left us. Surely

she told you where you really came from, Rose.” “Stop calling me that!” Rapid gasps of breath quivered through Madurai’s frail body. “I am the daughter of the first Exile, not a scion of this impure….” The sentence froze on her lips. Verdant eyes bulged from their sockets. Clutching a hand to her chest, she sank to her knees, then collapsed onto the airlock floor. Her skull hit the lunarcrete with a nauseous crack. Dark blood seeped through her hair, staining the white strands red. Sydney dropped beside her in an instant, two fingers pressed to her neck. “She’s too old for this kind of shock,” he snapped. “Help me get the suit off her.” No one moved. Lu’an’s normally sunny face wore a look of troubled disdain. Chiba had her hands pressed over her mouth, while Dakar stared down at the old woman as if she were toxic sludge spreading toward his boots. Even with all the times I wished her dead, I can’t just stand here and watch her die. Dropping to her knees, Skye helped Sydney remove the top portion of the spacesuit. No pulse fluttered beneath Madurai’s wrinkled throat. Dim in the background, Chief Holly barked something into the intercom while Everest gave agitated commands. A few Colony security officers hovered, but didn’t assist. Sydney jabbed the heels of his hands into Madurai’s sternum until a medical team skidded through the doors. Gentle fingers nudged Skye aside. “We’ll take care of her,” said Magnolia’s reassuring voice. She and Pyres transferred Madurai to the wheeled medbed. Robotic arms deftly placed electrodes on the Speaker’s sunken chest and a cannula in her nose. The defibrillator buzzed. Madurai twitched under the jolt, then drew a ragged mouthful of air. The machine’s flatline wail subsided into erratic clicks. Magnolia examined the machine display with satisfaction. “Machine’s taken over cardiac function. Let’s get her back to the Health Centre.” She released the bed’s wheel brakes and pushed Madurai smoothly into the corridor, Sydney steadying the gurney with a hand. Lu’an hastened to follow him, and Santiago herded the two teenagers after her. At a nod from Holly, a few

officers attached themselves to the rear of the procession. Everest’s withered hand slid off the bed’s transparent hatch as it ed. “Poor child. What fantasies did your mother put into your head?” The words struck Skye so hard that she caught her breath. Her mother shaped her world—she never had a chance to know anything else. Would I be any different than her if Geneva had taught me crazy ideas? She shivered. How do I know she didn’t? Holly stepped up beside Everest, speaking in a low, clipped tone. “Everything about this attracts attention. I’d give it less than an hour before the entire Shack knows we’ve got company.” She looked expectantly at the old man. “Of course. I’ll release a statement immediately.” Everest shuffled away with a whine of mechanical ts, the security chief at his elbow. Sudden quiet magnified the soft wet sounds as Pyres, grumbling, cleaned up Madurai’s blood. Everest’s blood. My blood. Skye shuddered, imagining all her double helixes unzipping in revolt. The ruby puddle filled her vision. A touch on her shoulder made her start. “Are you all right?” asked Ash. She nodded. “Just a little surprised to learn that I’m six percent Colonist.” “Oh, is that all?” Pyres smirked at her, the sterilizer wand casting his face in a malicious ultraviolet glow. “What do you mean?” “He’s just baiting you,” said Ash, but he sounded unsettled. “He doesn’t know anything. DNA profiles are confidential to the Repro Lab.” “Which is where I saw the results of Juniper’s tests on the Darksider before the old bat dismissed me,” said Pyres smugly. Skye’s hand strayed to her leg, touching the tiny dent left from the biopsy. “What did the tests say?”

“Half of your genetic material correlates with genomes currently found in our population. As far as your DNA is concerned, one of your parents came from Shackleton Colony.” Pyres smirked, visibly savoring her agitation. “But don’t worry. You’re still inbred Darksider scum to me.” Scooping up his supplies with a flourish, he trotted out of the airlock and let the door hiss shut behind him. Skye turned slowly to Ash, and his grim expression sent her heart plummeting through her chest. “You knew?” she whispered, the words bitter on her tongue. Ash took a deep breath before speaking. Even in his calm, earnest voice, the story sounded unreal. A clone enhanced with stolen Colonist DNA? Numbness flooded Skye’s insides. Questions exploded in her mind and transmitted instantly to her lips: “When did you hear this? Why didn’t Jeddah tell me? Why would Geneva do something like that?” Ash answered all the interruptions and finished his explanation with a nervous sigh. “I wanted to tell you before, but I couldn’t find a good time.” Skye forced a laugh. “Is there ever a good time to tell someone they were their mother’s science experiment?” “I don’t think that’s what Geneva meant at all. She wanted you to have a better chance at life than she did. Isn’t that what all parents are supposed to want for their kids?” “Not if it means cooking them up from DNA scraps in a test tube!” “Like me?” asked Ash, looking wounded. “And everyone else in the Shack.” “That’s different. You’re—” “What?” The syllable struck sharp as a blade point. “Impure? You have to get Madurai out of your head.” “How can I? She’s in my blood, my bones. And apparently so are a lot of

other people.” Skye hugged herself, but her own touch felt repulsive. Dropping her arms, she stalked to the airlock’s tiny window. The dull binary landscape outside calmed her seething mind a little. Why can’t everything be so clean and straightforward? White and black, ground and space, two halves with a neat line in between? “I thought I was doing something bold by making with the Colony and going to Earth,” she muttered to the glass. “But I was just executing my genetic program. I’m a designer organism bred to fill a specific niche, just like the crops that produced Spores.” Quiet steps brought Ash to her side. “If there’s one thing I learned being a Gatherer, it’s that living things don’t always behave the way you expect. Look at me and Thorn. Identical genes, two completely different people. All those complex sequences of chemicals make this—” he gave her shoulder a gentle shake, turning her to face him “but not this.” A fingertip pressed briefly to her forehead. “Your DNA is not your destiny, Skye.” Irony tugged at her lips. “I thought DNA was the only part of an organism that interested you.” “Well, I never encountered an organism like you before.” “How could you? I’m a Goddard-damned chimera.” Ash smiled. “Guess you’ve got the Colonist profanity gene in your phenotype.” The knot in Skye’s ribs dissolved in a sobbing laugh that scraped her throat, but left her feeling a few molecules lighter. “For someone who doesn’t talk much, you have a knack for the right—” The door clattered open behind them, turning both their heads. Hazel stood there, her petite form emanating so much wrath that it sucked the light from the room like a black hole. “Quark you, Ash.” She marched up and poked him hard in the sternum, her furious gaze more than compensating for the difference in height. “My mom helped you escape and you come skipping back a few weeks later

anyway? Now she’s going to die for nothing.” “What do you mean?” asked Ash, blanching. “They pulled her off the power grid crew and put her in charge of resuming the helium-3 surveys. They call it a promotion, but it can only be a punishment.” Hazel’s hands curled into fists. “She’ll die out there just like your dad, and it’s your fault.” “No one is going to die, because no one needs to hunt for helium-3 anymore,” said Skye, squeezing the younger girl’s arm. “The Exiles have plenty, and we’re going to trade it to the Colony for age to Earth.” “Everest agreed to that?” asked Hazel, narrowing her eyes. “Not yet,” Ash itted. “Well, what are you waiting for? Go talk to him!” Hazel gave him a shove. “He’s blabbering on the broadcast feed right now, so he has to be in his chambers.” “We can’t just barge in on him,” Ash began, but Hazel shot him a look so murderous that he leaned back a few centimeters. “All right. I’ll try.” He hastened for the exit. Skye kept pace, and he glanced at her in surprise. “You don’t have to come if talking to him will be too weird for you.” “It’ll be weirder if Madurai poisons him against me first.” The words afforded her a tiny boost of courage, but that faded when they entered the maze of corridors. Every screen mounted along the walls showed a softly lit image of Everest, the speakers amplifying his tone of sober reassurance: “…although unexpected, reconnecting with our lost kin promises to benefit all of us as we endeavor to ensure the human race’s survival after Earth….” “What is that supposed to mean?” asked Skye. “We can go back to Earth now, that’s the whole point.” “That’s your dream, not ours.” Ash maneuvered around the people clustered in front of the screens. Some stared at Skye as she ed.

Challenge surged in her veins. She slowed to address the gawkers, but Ash took her elbow and steered her onward. A few more turns brought them to an empty hallway terminating in a door. Ash tapped the intercom. “Sir, it’s Ash. If you have a minute I need to speak with you about—” The door clicked and slid open, emitting a waft of cool air and threads of a strange sound Skye had never heard before. Soft, clear notes built geometry in her ears, intervals shifting and repeating in auditory fractals. They wove around her like the ocean breeze on Earth and drew her, entranced, into the room’s dim screen glow. “What is that?” she breathed. “It’s like…if numbers could sing.” A dry chuckle answered nearby. “An apt description of Bach. Music with the precision and elegance of a finely rendered equation.” Everest barely stirred the shadows as he turned in his chair to face her. “I fear the demands of survival allow no space for such creations anymore. Our species left all inclination for art and beauty on Earth.” Skye let the exquisite harmonies wash over her. “That seems like reason enough to go back.” “Perhaps. Although I imagine Rose—er, Madurai—had different motives for leading you all here.” “Madurai didn’t lead anyone. I did.” Everest gave her a curious look. “And you are?” “Her granddaughter, heir to the leadership of the Exiles.” Skye drew her vertebrae to full extension, imitating Madurai’s regal self-possession. “And if what you said is true, that makes me—” “—my great-great granddaughter.” Green eyes peeled away her skin as if they could appraise the blood beneath. “I never expected to see any of my family again in this lifetime, unnaturally long though it’s been. What’s your name, child?”

“Skye.” “Like the island, not the atmosphere,” Ash added with a faint smile. “Yes, I visited it long ago. Wild, rugged land, but strikingly beautiful in its way.” The old man sighed. “So many places on Earth where our kind will never set foot again.” “It doesn’t have to be that way,” said Skye. “The Tenax proved that.” “Indeed. That extraordinary video shocked the entire Colony, myself not least of all,” said Everest. “But of course I’m thrilled to discover all those young heroes still alive. And their evolution…it’s incredible. Spores caused that?” “Lily thinks so, but we won’t know how Aspergillus changes us until we figure out how it changed itself.” Digging into a pocket, Ash pulled out the amber chunk and handed it to Everest. The old man gave a soft, wheezing gasp. “Did you get this from Rose?” “You recognize it?” “I bought this as a gift for my wife after her research developed a strain of cyanobacteria suitable for terraforming Mars’ atmosphere. An ancient fungus to celebrate a new one.” He chuckled. “Scientists have strange mating rituals, don’t they? But she prized it. When our baby daughter arrived on Luna clutching it, I knew she was saying goodbye.” He turned the amber in his papery palm. “She volunteered to help stop the Spore epidemic, but even her brilliance couldn’t save Earth, and our little girl grew up on stories of how a genetic engineering accident destroyed her world. Small wonder she wanted better for her own child.” “It’s not better. We can barely survive out there,” said Skye. “It’s time for something better, for all of us. Exiles and Colonists can both get the home they want. If you take us to Earth in the Vator, we’ll give you all the helium3 you need to fuel ships to Mars.” “‘The star of the unconquered will,’” Everest muttered to himself.

Skye raised an eyebrow. “Is that what you call Mars?” “It’s what an old poet once called it. ‘Within my breast there is no light but the cold light of stars; I give the first watch of the night to the red planet Mars, the star of the unconquered will’…I taught it to my daughter by heart. When she was small she thought it was written about her—her name, Stella, meant ‘star.’ I take it she never ed down the recitation?” Skye shook her head and Everest sighed again, rubbing a thumb along the amber. A tear, or perhaps just a reflection from the surveillance screens, shone in his eye. “I took great comfort in those verses after Sporespread. ‘O fear not in a world like this and thou shalt know erelong, know how sublime a thing it is to suffer and be strong.” “Sums it up pretty well,” murmured Ash. “Indeed. Our unconquered will, our strength in the face of hardship, is all we have left.” Everest returned the amber reluctantly to Skye. “If it were my decision alone, I’d agree to your this minute. But Shackleton Colony’s other citizens will have to consider the matter.” “I thought you were their leader,” said Skye, not bothering to mask her annoyance. “That’s the supreme irony of leadership, my dear. We can accomplish little without the consent of those we lead. I gather it was you two who captured footage of Lily from the anchor platform and circulated it here?” Skye and Ash exchanged glances, saying nothing, and Everest gave a weary nod. “That video created a fault line in Shackleton Colony. Some people want to Lily’s band on Earth, while others remain committed to the Mars plan. There’s no longer a unified vision for our future, so it’s difficult to guess how they might receive your proposal—as an opportunity for mutual benefit, or the start of a second schism.” “I’m trying to bring people back together, not drive them apart,” said Skye. “I brought experts to confirm everything I’ve told you: the medic who tested Ash’s immunity, the horticulturist who works with old-Earth species, and our chief engineer who knows all about helium-3 fusion. Ask them anything.” “I’m sure their insights will be welcome. But first I must hold a closed session to discuss how this might impact the state of the Colony. I’ll notify you if we need

additional testimony.” Turning to his displays, Everest adjusted a dial and spoke with soft urgency into the small microphone. “All of the Colony council, please me in the auditorium immediately for an emergency session.” Skye waited for him to say more, but he didn’t turn around again. Dull computer humming filled the room. “Interview over. Let’s go,” Ash hissed in her ear. He chivvied her through the door and it glided shut behind them. “We don’t get to attend the meeting?” “No way. The council is the heads of our different programs, important people.” “Important enough to redact their system activity, like whoever tried to kill us in the rover when we first arrived?” Skye wheeled around to face Ash, so abruptly that he almost walked into her. “The person trying to keep the Tenax a secret must be on the council! Can’t we sneak in and listen?” “We’d have to have civic division permissions to even get into the room, and….” An idea flitted across Ash’s face. “And I know someone in the civic division.”

2

Power

With Everest’s messages concluded, the screens in the Educational Centre resumed their usual loops of notices and safety reminders. Skye dawdled in front of the colorful displays, fascinated. “You know they make these for kids,” said Ash, biting back a smile. “Better than bare, boring stone like the Sanctuary walls.” She paused to watch an animated rocket bounce onto a red sphere, where it transformed into a sunflower. Banner text exclaimed “EARTH YESTERDAY, LUNA TODAY, MARS TOMORROW!” Ash recognized it with sinking horror. “They’re stupid. Come on.” He tried to steer Skye away, but too late—the cartoon galaxy dissolved into his own image, wearing full dive gear and a humorless expression. Slogans endorsing the GAEA program scrolled over his avatar’s head. Skye stared at the poster, then burst out laughing. “We dive, we thrive?” she read aloud, almost choking on her own amusement. “I didn’t write it,” Ash muttered. “They put it up after I broke Lily’s GAEA record months ago. I can’t believe it’s still on display.” Skye, practically doubled over, didn’t seem to hear him. The stricken expression she’d worn since the airlock melted away, taking a little of Ash’s embarrassment with it. If it gets her laughing again…. “I guess they don’t have much else to inspire a new generation of terranauts,” said Skye, wiping her eyes. “I never wanted to inspire them. I wanted to prevent them from having to dive at all, so they wouldn’t die on Earth like I thought Thorn had.” “That’s what started all of this, isn’t it?” Skye cocked her head, a rogue lock of hair falling across her face. “That’s why you fell for my story about the

great DNA discovery on Earth.” “It wasn’t a story. We found the Tenax. If it weren’t for that….” Recollection popped in Ash’s brain. “I almost forgot.” Rooting through his pockets, he pulled out the medallion Everest had given him for breaking the record. “Need to look the part of a hero?” Skye teased him. “It’s not for me. what I told you on GEO, before we went to Earth?” Skye screwed up her face in concentration. “That I was the first gawking tourist on the Vator’s observation deck in a hundred years.” “After that. I said that if your discovery saved the human race, I’d pin this stupid medal on you myself.” “But I haven’t saved anyone,” said Skye, bemused. “Because of you, the kids in this center won’t have to risk their lives diving and we finally have a chance at sending ships to Mars.” Ash fixed the badge to her collar. “You’ve done more to save us than I ever did.” “What’s it supposed to be?” she asked, examining the ornament. “Planets in syzygy—straight alignment.” “I’ve spent a lot of time staring at stars and planets, Ash. I know what syzygy means.” “Then you should also recognize the old astronomical symbols for Earth, Luna, and Mars. See?” He traced the outlines with a finger. “Well, maybe you can’t. Everest did say the design was horrible.” “I think it’s pretty,” said Skye, her cheekbones faintly pink. “Then you can be in the next recruitment picture instead of me.” “Why not both of us? Didn’t Thorn say we’d make a good poster? ‘Near

side, far side, allied!’” Snickering, Skye hopped onto Ash’s back to mimic the pose that had prompted Thorn’s remark. Her lively warmth ran through him like morning sunlight on Earth. He carried her a few paces down the hall to the classroom, then she slid off and he rang the buzzer. Familiar knots of affection and anxiety clenched his stomach as the door opened, framing his mother and her smart blue civic-division tunic. “Ash!” A genuine smile eased Fern’s chronically harrowed expression. “Violet told me you disappeared out past the crater with a Darksider, and I thought you’d end up just like….” Like Dad? Are you finally going to say it? But Fern simply hugged him and Ash, swallowing the bitterness in his throat, hugged back. “Is it true about Thorn?” she asked. “Did you see him?” “Yeah, he’s….” Ash winced at the memory of his brother in the Tenax camp, weak and ill as the Spores altered his body. “He’s alive. He doesn’t want you to worry.” “As if that’s an option with my sons running wild on a toxic planet,” said Fern with a strained laugh. “How did you find him?” “I didn’t. Skye did.” Disentangling himself gently from his mother, Ash caught Skye’s wrist and pulled her forward. Uncertainty played on both women’s faces. Fern appraised Skye for a long moment, then stepped forward and embraced her. Startled, Skye froze with her arms held awkwardly away from her sides. “Thank you for bringing back my boys,” Fern whispered. Over her shoulder, Skye’s startled eyes sought Ash. He nodded approval. Encouraged, she returned the hug. A glimmer beneath her pale lashes might have been a tear, but she blinked and it disappeared. “Maybe now they can finally terminate that wretched GAEA program.” Fern held Skye at arm’s length, studying her with benevolent interest. “Would you like to meet some of the lives you saved?”

They followed her into the classroom. Half a dozen small children clustered around a low table, placing miniature solar s on a model of Shackleton Crater. They greeted Ash with chirps of recognition. “We’re learning about solar power,” Poppy explained, indicating a UV lamp in the table’s center. “We have to figure out where to put s to make enough energy for the whole Shack.” “If you take some of our helium-3 for fusion power, you’ll have plenty. Like a whole extra sun,” said Skye, nudging the pieces of Poppy and Heath’s models together for emphasis. The two children stared at her for a moment, then grinned and began configuring a single landscape with twice the allotted s. Skye folded herself gracefully down beside the table and helped them construct a thicket of tiny heliostats, taking as much obvious delight in the activity as the students. Ash and Fern settled in the back of the room to watch. “I’d imagined the Darksiders as primitive, but she seems like a bright girl,” Fern observed. “She’s brilliant. She figured out that a random radio signal from Earth was actually biometric data from divers we thought were dead.” Ash glanced sideways at his mother. “Violet told me that she and Dad changed the gas tanks for the pods when they worked Vator maintenance. That’s why the divers survived.” “Did she tell you I recruited them to do it?” Ash gaped at his mother, so prim in her uniform and her neat short hair. “You?” Fern watched Skye playing with the kids, her lips a grim line. “I see children every day, knowing that in a few years they might be crushed under an ancient building or savaged by animals or poisoned in a de-con pod. Sometimes I can hardly look at them—it hurts too much to think about it.” Her hands twisted in her lap. “When you and Thorn came along, the idea became so unbearable that I stormed into Juniper’s lab and told her exactly what I thought of GAEA. She told me if I really cared for those children, I should help try to save their lives.”

“How?” “She needed someone in the civic division to alter supply invoices for shipments to GEO.” Fern plucked at the cuff of her blue tunic. “She wouldn’t tell me why at the time, but I’d have done anything to keep my boys out of the dive program. So would your father. When I told him about the plan, he transferred to GEO’s maintenance crew so he could receive and install the tanks I sent.” “So you and Dad were….” Rebels? Traitors? Just terrified parents? “Committing crimes against the Colony,” Fern finished for him in a flat, official tone. “At least that’s what they called it when a junior security officer caught Violet installing fentanyl in the de-con pods instead of the euthanasia gas. The Council threatened to take Hazel away from her and Magnolia.” “But she must’ve been just a toddler,” said Ash. Fern nodded. “It would’ve broken their hearts to give her up after years on the waiting list. Alder loved Violet like a sister, so he took the blame as crew chief and managed to convince the Council it was a mistake. They dropped the charges, but he and Violet were both demoted to helium-3 prospecting, and I stopped helping Juniper for fear of losing you and Thorn.” She touched his cheek briefly, then looked away. “That was the end of our little rebellion.” That must be what Violet meant when she said she owed Dad. Ash frowned. “It wasn’t the end. The red-ringed divers kept surviving—someone else must’ve taken your place.” “I’m sure Alder and I weren’t the only idealistic fools on the Shack who could be manipulated into thinking they’d make a difference.” “But you did make a difference.” Ash couldn’t take his eyes from his mother’s face. Why does she look like a completely different person to me now? “Because of you, dozens of people are still alive—Thorn is still alive.” “And Alder is dead,” said Fern bleakly.

“Is that why you never talk about him?” Ash asked before he could stop himself. “How could I tell my sons that I got their father killed by trying to make the future better for them?” Fern’s nostrils flared, drawing erratic breaths. “How could I explain that he broke the rules for a good reason, without having to watch them follow in his footsteps?” “I ended up doing that anyway, but it wasn’t your fault,” said Ash. “I did it all by myself. Well, she helped.” He nodded at Skye. “Are you sure it’s safe to trust a Darksider, after what happened to your dad?” ‘Your dad.’ When was the last time she said that? Ash grasped his mother’s hand. “I don’t think they killed him. Most of them have never even left their hideout. Skye was the only one brave enough to come here, and she’s saved my life at least twice now, so I’m probably safer with her than not.” A faint smile touched Fern’s lips. “What?” asked Ash. “Sometimes I forget how much you’ve grown since you left for GAEA. I when you sat right over there….” She nodded to the table, then clicked her tongue in reproach. “Heath, don’t wire together all those pieces! You’ll overload the—” A chorus of clicks swallowed her last word as the overhead light s snapped off, plunging the classroom into blackness. “Making a mess of the Shack’s equipment again, Skye?” asked Ash, grinning when her indignant retort lanced through the dark: “We didn’t plug anything in yet!” A drawer scraped open and a thin, bright spear ignited in Fern’s hand. “It’s not you, it’s our power system. This happens all the time.” Skye made a disdainful sound. “If your infrastructure is that unreliable, you

definitely need our helium-3 to—” “Fire detected in Sector Five-B,” announced the address system. “There’s no fire,” Fern told it, as if the disembodied voice were an overimaginative child. “Initiating containment protocol.” A soft clunk echoed from the door as the lock engaged. The air system gave a mechanical belch, paused, then resumed its omnipresent rattle at triple the usual volume. “What’s happening?” asked Skye, her head snapping toward the ceiling. “The environmental system is sucking out the oxygen,” Fern mouthed over the children’s heads. “In a few minutes, there won’t be anything in here to feed a fire.” Or our lungs. Adrenaline ignited Ash’s limbs. He moved to herd the children together, but they had already formed a well-drilled line behind their teacher at the door. Fern pressed her hand to the door’s sensor pad, but it remained stubbornly dark. “The emergency override must’ve shorted out!” She slapped her palm uselessly against the unresponsive mechanism, reassuring her students with a feeble smile. “Don’t worry, the engineers in the control room will see we’re here and they’ll send someone to let us out.” Ash expected one of the kids to cry or scream, but they all stood still in accepting silence. Even babies know how Goddard-damned fragile our lives are out here in space. Resolve amplified the chemicals coursing through his veins. I didn’t risk everything to save them from GAEA so I could watch them die like this instead. “We can’t wait for a rescue,” he said. “Maybe we can pry open the door enough to let in some air. Skye, throw me one of those spanners on the table. Skye!” Fern turned the light on her. The beam contracted her pupils to specks adrift in icy blue pools of fear. Fast, shallow breaths quivered in her chest.

What’s wrong with her? She’s never afraid of anything. “Fifteen seconds,” she whispered. It took a perplexed instant for Ash’s brain to process the number’s significance, and the answer stung his heart. “This isn’t space exposure, Skye. You’re not in the skylight.” She stared through the lunarcrete walls, eyes as distant as if she stared into a vacuum on Mare Ingenii. “I can’t see. I can’t breathe. What’s different?” “You’re not alone this time.” Ash clasped her hand as hard as he dared to stop the shaking. Hers, or mine? “Come on. We have to think of something.” “Door’s no good,” Fern grunted, giving the handle a last futile shove. “The seal’s too strong—figures that’s the one thing in this sector that works properly. Too bad they couldn’t apply that engineering to the air vents.” Skye’s fingers clamped tight around Ash’s. “The vents. Hazel accessed the decon pods by crawling through the Vator’s ducts. Does the Shack have a big air system like that, too?” Having a puzzle to solve seemed to steady her. Ash glanced up at the s. “I don’t know if we’ll fit in there.” “The kids will.” A grim look ed between them. Wordlessly they dragged the low table underneath the vent and Skye leapt on top of it. Standing on her tiptoes, she could just reach the grate. “If you take that off, it’ll deplete the air even faster,” said Fern. Her voice sounded a little breathless, and a faint burning in Ash’s lungs told him the room’s atmosphere had already thinned. “Yes, but at least we can follow it.” Skye clenched her teeth as she fought the magnetic seal. Fern scrambled up to help her and together they hauled the grate most of the way back. The rush of air increased to a gale, ruffling Ash’s hair as it vanished into the ducts.

“Go on, I’ve got it.” Fern leaned all her weight against the , tendons flexing in her wrists. “One of you will have to lead the kids through and find an exit.” Ash wove his fingers into a stirrup. “You’ve got more experience navigating tunnels than I do,” he told Skye. She paused, the barely controlled terror in her face shifting into a strange, complex expression. Before Ash could decipher it, she took the flashlight in her teeth and slid her foot into his hands. He boosted her up to the ceiling and she shinned after the air. “All right, everyone follow Skye and do not stop,” Fern told the children in a tense but even voice. One by one they climbed onto the table and Ash hoisted them into the vent. Most were trembling, and at least one jumpsuit bore a wet patch, but all crawled stalwartly into the dark without a whimper. Dizziness throbbed at Ash’s temples as he lifted Heath. “Is that everyone?” he panted, with a final glance around the classroom. Dark stars pulsed at the fringe of his vision. “Almost. You go now,” Fern ordered. Ash began to argue, but she cut him off with a curt shake of her head. “I want to see all the kids out safely, and no matter how old you are, you’re still my kid.” Perspiration sheened her face, but she managed a strained smile. “I’ll be right behind you.” Ash jumped up, grabbed the edge of the vent, and levered himself onto his belly. The narrow shaft forced his shoulders almost under his chin. His ragged breaths echoed in his ears. You work on a limited air supply every time you dive. This is no different. Now, figure out how to hold the vent so— A loud clang tolled through the duct. “Mom!” The confined cry almost deafened him. He fought to turn around, welded seams scraping his hips and arms. Rough mesh bit his palms—the grate had slammed shut. He pounded it, but the magnetic seal held fast under his enervated blows. Metal trembled around him, and fingers grasped his suit in the dark. “I

found a way out—come on!” Skye’s breath warmed his cheek. “Can’t…she’s still in there….” Ash’s throat found no air to form the words. “I alerted the engineers. They’ll get her out. But if we stay here, we’ll suffocate.” Empty breaths scorched his lungs. Skye crawled backward, half-dragging him with her. A light shone at the far end of the duct, but instead of approaching it seemed to draw farther away, an elusive star fading into the unconscious void.

⁂

Death smoothed the perennial lines of tension from Fern’s forehead, leaving her countenance more serene than Ash could . Did her strength give out with the air? Or did she close the vent in hope it would leave more air in the duct while we escaped? Does it even matter? It won’t bring her back. Taking his mother’s stiff hand into his own, he braced himself for the hot flow of anguish that had swept over him when Thorn got red-ringed. But nothing came except a distant, torpid sorrow. It’s only carbon and water now, stuff to fertilize the plants. Plants that will feed the kids and help them grow. She wouldn’t mind that. He stared at her profile, trying to memorize the topography of her face, brown hills and valleys above the stark horizon of the cadaver table. All those years I didn’t want to talk to her. Now I want to ask her a thousand things—or just tell her one thing—and it’s too late. The door slid open behind him.

“Ash.” Skye sounded uncharacteristically anxious. Fingers alighted on his arm, then drew back, hesitant. “Ash, I’m so sorry. If I hadn’t suggested the ducts—” “—there would be a lot more bodies in this room,” Ash finished. “The air system glitched out the last time I was here, too. Luna is slowly killing us all.” “And Everest won’t let you go to Earth or Mars.” The tremor of rage in her tone shook loose something in Ash’s core. “You’re right. The longer he keeps us here, the more people will die.” Bending over the table, Ash kissed his mother’s cheek for the last time, the waxen chill of her skin freezing through to his heart. “We’ve got two habitable planets in our reach now. There’s no reason to stay in this death trap any longer.” His blood rose with each compartment door his palm swiped open, marching toward Everest’s chamber with Skye at his side. Voices hummed down the corridor. They turned the corner and stepped into a throng. Blue tunics, green lab coats, and red jumpsuits filled the hallway outside Everest’s door. Loud, fragmented words rang off the ceiling: “—just go back to Earth. It’s got to be better than this!” “Even if terraforming’s not complete, at least on Mars—” “I thought you said council meetings were exclusive,” Skye shouted against Ash’s ear. Spotting Violet and Hazel against the far wall, Ash fought toward them and found himself folded in a fierce two-sided hug. Pressure stung his eyes and he blinked it away, grateful that the crowd’s noise drowned out most of Violet’s words: “Fern…horrible…Goddard-damned power system….” “What’s going on?” he asked when he pulled away. “Civic engagement,” said Violet with a dry smile. “That system failure could have killed everyone in the Educational Centre—dozens of children, our whole next generation. We’re one power outage away from extinction. We can’t live in this crumbling pile of space trash any—” She looked up at

the hiss of sliding metal. Everest stepped out of his chamber, surveying the tense faces before him. A raised prosthetic hand subdued the clamor. “Let me first say that I share your grief and anger over this morning’s incident,” he began. “That sector has been temporarily closed for a full inspection, and—” “Close the whole damned place and let’s go to Mars already,” Violet shouted. “I’ve ordered a full program audit in anticipation of accelerating the Mars plan,” said Everest graciously. “But doing so will require a drastic shift to resource allocation that may further strain—” “Is it true the Darksiders want to trade us helium-3?” someone interrupted. “Yes,” said Skye before Everest could respond. “And our chief engineer will help refine your fusion reactors to power the Shack or fuel ships to Mars.” “Ships we don’t presently have,” said Everest. “So build some,” Hazel yelled, her high-pitched voice cutting over the noise. Violet wrapped a ive arm around her daughter. “We could start by refitting spare shuttles from the orbit stations. If the engineers don’t need to hunt for helium-3, we can start working on the first Mars transport instead. How long can it take?” Everest gave a weary chuckle. “Having overseen the construction of several space vessels before Sporespread, I can tell you it takes quite a long time.” “Then go back to Earth, with us,” said Skye. “You saw the video. Aspergillus isn’t fatal anymore.” A thoughtful murmur pulsed through the crowd at her suggestion. “Perhaps not, but we still know very little about how it affects us,” said Everest. “We can’t risk what remains of our species to an unstudied parasite.” “Then I’ll go study it,” said Ash. Dozens of eyes fixed on him, making his

skin itch. He swallowed and kept going. “That’s what I’m good at, right? Let me take a research team down in the Vator. I know where to find the components we need for a real vaccine, and I can ask Lily to share what she’s learned about Spores.” He met Everest’s green gaze. “You gave me an award for finding more new species than anyone in Colony history. Now help me save one old species—us.” Violet started clapping. Others ed in, and the chorus of palms echoed down the hall. Everest, drowned out, simply nodded. “I’m coming with you,” Hazel yelled over the din. “You’d better be,” said Ash. “I need at least one person who knows what to expect down there.” Violet ruffled Hazel’s hair. “That’s my girl—third dive and already an expert.” “I wish she were the only expert we needed,” said Ash, dropping his voice so only Skye could hear him. “But terranauts alone won’t be enough for this trip.”

3

Recruits

“Can’t we just take Lu’an?” Skye scanned the quiet, sterile length of the Health Centre’s main ward. “She knows about Earth species.” “Not this species,” said Ash, taking a few tentative steps down the row of screened cubicles. “Where’s Magnolia? Hazel said she was on duty….” A demand rang through the flimsy divider, making them both stop short. “I’m telling you, it’s not working!” “I already have you on the maximum dosage, Linden,” Magnolia’s calm voice replied. Ignoring Ash’s gesture of disapproval, Skye peered through the gap in the screen. Linden sat hunched on an exam table, fingers clenched around the edge. “Then give me something else. Every time I shut my eyes, I’m scooping bloody scraps of my best friend out of the sand. Every time the air system whines, I jump out of my damned skin thinking it’s a Hummingbird shot.” He shook his head hard. “I feel like I’m….” “Losing your mind?” Magnolia prompted him gently. “I know. I was a terranaut once, and Earth wasn’t any safer back then.” “What happened?” The question sounded half challenge, half plea for empathy. The medic drew a long, slow breath, her gaze fixed on the floor. “My team got assigned a weed so determined to prove herself that she ran into an unstable building against the captain’s orders. I tried to get her out, but the building collapsed on us. It crushed her instantly. I was trapped in the rubble for hours, barely able to breathe, with pieces of that poor girl dripping all over me….” She shuddered, and with a flare of insight Skye ed her comment on the base station: Not all injuries are physical. Linden scrubbed at his arms, perhaps wiping away imaginary gore. “How

did you get over it?” “I didn’t. I spent years in a waking nightmare. Violet never gave up on me, thank Goddard, but it wasn’t until we got Hazel that I started to feel in control again, because I had to start thinking about someone other than myself. Someone who needed me to be strong for them.” Magnolia laid an empathetic hand on Linden’s shoulder. “It never goes away completely, but finding people who anchor you makes it easier to manage.” “Who do I have left?” asked Linden forlornly. He slid off the table. Ash tugged at Skye’s sleeve. “Come on, he’ll see us,” he hissed in her ear, but she planted her boots. I helped break him. Maybe I can help fix him, too. A heartbeat later Linden stepped around the screen and almost collided with her. He jerked back, a hand to his chest. “What are you doing here?” “Recruiting,” said Skye breezily. “Want to come to Earth with us?” Both boys stared at her as though she’d proposed driving a rover to Mars. “Why would I want to go back?” Linden narrowed his eyes. “Why would you want me to?” “Two of my people are coming along and I need an experienced Hunter to look out for them, preferably someone who’s already familiar with the Tenax and won’t panic at the sight.” Linden scowled at his boots. “That’s not me.” “Then who else? There’s no one else with those qualifications. Not in the Shack, not in the solar system.” Skye peered into his downcast face. “We could really use your help.” For the first time in memory, Linden met her gaze and didn’t flinch. “I tried to kill you.” “I haven’t forgotten.”

“Neither have I,” said Ash, his tone hard as the lunarcrete walls. “But we do need another teammate, so if Skye is willing to have you along, then I guess I am, too.” Wariness melted slowly into a smile, very different from the cocky one Skye ed. “I guess I can take care of a few Darksider weeds,” said Linden. He walked away, holding himself a little straighter. Ash raised an eyebrow at Skye. “You trust him?” “No. But you didn’t trust me after I tricked you into going to Earth, and you still gave me a second chance.” He shrugged. “I just hope you don’t regret it.” “Did you?” A faint upward twitch of his mouth replied. The divider stirred and Magnolia beamed at Skye. “Hard to quantify a clinical opinion on these things, but I think he’ll keep his word. Going back to Earth might be the best way for him to heal.” She turned comionate eyes on Ash. “Did you have a chance to say goodbye to your mom? I can reschedule the disposition if you need more—” “She’s dead. I can’t say anything to her,” said Ash flatly. “The person I need to talk to is Juniper. Can you get us in to see her?” How can he be so unfeeling? Skye exchanged a quick, startled glance with Magnolia. The medic did a credible job masking her concern. “I’m not coded for her lab—she keeps that highly restricted. But you can see if she’s feeling human today.” She indicated an unmarked door tucked in the back of the ward. Ash strode up to it and tapped the buzzer. Nothing happened. He tried again and Skye pressed her finger on top of his to hold down the button. The door opened with a resentful click, releasing a miasma of disinfectant smells so potent that she almost gagged. Inside, a chorus of instruments hummed and clattered on countertops bright with glassware.

“No, Magnolia, I’m not finished revising the DNA templates. Stop asking,” Juniper snapped without turning from her workstation. “Tell those insufferable applicants they’ll never get to coo over a gestation tank if they don’t leave me to work.” “Would a new genetic sample help?” asked Ash. The chief geneticist spun on her stool and fixed sharp brown eyes on Skye. “I’ve already sequenced the Darksider’s genes. She’s of no further interest to me.” “Hers aren’t the only old Earth genes in the Sanctuary.” He slapped the amber down on the counter beside Juniper’s elbow. She cast the stone a disdainful glance. “What is it and why should I care?” “Aspergillus, and because it’s the only pre-Sporespread sample in existence,” Skye shot back. Juniper laid the fossil on her microscope stage and peered through the eyepiece. “Seems to be well-preserved, but I can’t guarantee the viability of DNA that’s millions of years old.” “It doesn’t have to be viable, just complete enough to compare against the current strain,” said Ash. “That should help us understand Spores, and why some unregulated drugs from GEO can kill them. With all that, you should be able to make a vaccine that actually works.” A glint of unreadable emotion flickered on Juniper’s face. “Who wants to create a vaccine?” “You do. Unless you injected terranauts with experimental serums and jettisoned them into the desert for pure amusement,” said Skye dryly. “I wasn’t the only one monitoring those transmissions from Goldstone— you’ve been using them to study the red-ringed divers and see how Spores affected them.” “Not anymore. The Goldstone signal stopped weeks ago. The group must have moved out of range.” Juniper gave an annoyed sigh. “Rowan proved even more selfish and sentimental than I thought. That video of yours…

fifteen years of research, wasted.” “Not if I can find their new camp and get Lily’s help,” said Ash. “You have more data on Tenax biology than anyone, even if I don’t like how you got it. We need your expertise to understand how Spores changed them.” “I don’t have time to indulge a teenager’s research project.” Juniper waved a hand at a screen ribboned with genetic sequences. “I’m behind schedule on the new crop of embryos, I’m in the middle of comparative analysis on some pharmaceutical plant variants, I need to update the agricultural catalog with the latest GAEA finds….” “You wouldn’t be so busy if you didn’t keep dismissing your apprentices,” said Skye. “But I suppose you can’t risk one of them discovering your project.” “That’s why you recruited Willow to kill me, isn’t it?” asked Ash in a hard, quiet voice. “To preserve your work.” “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Juniper, folding her arms in a defensive knot. “You won’t have to deny everything once our mission to Earth gives you a legitimate source for all that secret data, and more,” said Skye. “Come help us, and Everest will never know you were meddling with GAEA behind his back.” Juniper scowled. “Is that an invitation or a threat?” “What do you think?” Skye donned an innocent smile and strode out of the lab, calling over her shoulder, “See you at the base station!” In the corridor, Ash let out a nervous breath. “I didn’t think that would really work.” “It did on you!” She nudged his shoulder. “Like I said, human telemetry. Once you identify a person’s frequency, it’s easy to calibrate a signal that will resonate.” “How are you not in charge of all the Exiles by now?”

“Speaker impedance.” Laughing at her own joke, Skye pushed open the ward door and stepped into chaos. Frantic mewling made a discordant melody over the drone of a cardiac monitor. “Lay still, you’re going to tear it out!” said Sydney, his voice thick with frustration. Skye shoved aside the nearest cubicle divider and her lingering sense of triumph sank. Madurai thrashed in a med-bed, straps holding her arms firm against the molded surface. An oxygen mask muffled her face. She caught sight of Skye and her bony fingers stiffened into claws. “Why is she restrained?” Skye asked, her own wrists smarting with the memory of cuffs. “Because she keeps trying to take out the damn endotracheal tube, and without the ventilator we might lose her. She can’t breathe on her own after a heart attack like that.” Sydney checked the machine readout beside the bed. “Sedation is probably wearing off. Where’s Magnolia?” He disappeared into the next cube. Skye looked at the withered form before her. “Ash, would you give me a minute with my grandmother, please?” she asked. A murmur of assent, retreating footsteps, and the two of them were alone. The Speaker’s wan face twisted into a grimace. “Oh, stop it. You almost never respond when I talk, anyway—this is no different than any other conversation we’ve had in the past six years,” said Skye. Lines around Madurai’s mouth shifted almost imperceptibly, a ghost of her old contemptuous smirk. The hateful look shattered all the questions Skye had composed. She spat them out in shards. “Why didn’t you tell me what I was? Did you think the truth would damage me? Make me bolder, make me defy you like Geneva did?” Anger flowed unrestrained without the usual interruptions to stifle it. “Or maybe it wasn’t about me at all. It was about your own fear, and you thought ignoring it— ignoring me—would somehow make all that impurity in your bloodline disappear. But it found you anyway, didn’t it?” The only answer was the ventilator’s steady churning and the gush of air it forced through Madurai’s lungs.

Looking at the broken old woman, Skye’s crest of fury sank into pity. “I guess that’s something we have in common—neither of our mothers told us our real origins.” The exasperated sigh scraped her throat. “The more I try not to be like you, the more similarities I discover.” “Surely you inherited a few traits worth having.” Skye snapped around at the voice. Everest stood in the cubicle entrance, watching her. “How long have you been there?” Something about the old man prickled her skin. Is it just the bionics, or because I can’t help looking for bits of myself in him? “Not long at all—I promise eavesdropping was not my intention. I came to see Rose.” He nodded at the med-bed. Madurai’s green eyes, identical to Everest’s, narrowed. “It’s strange to hear you call her that,” said Skye. “It’s strange to say it again. I thought she was as lost to me as Earth itself.” Skye studied him. He’s the only person alive who would know…. “What was Earth like before Sporespread?” A rueful smile touched Everest’s face. “Waning, my dear. Air that seared our children’s lungs, blood spilled over water, and more hungry stomachs than the dry soil could ever hope to feed. The planet was dying under our feet.” “But she was still your Mother! Why didn’t you try to save her, and yourselves?” “I did. I founded a whole corporation dedicated to that end, developing all sorts of innovations I believed would enable human progress. The material used in space elevator cables, crops specially bred for altered climates, even these contraptions—” Everest indicated his ive exoskeleton “—came from my laboratories. How do you think I ended up on Shackleton Colony? I was overseeing some new mining installations when Sporespread occurred. After a lifetime attempting to save the planet, I had to watch it perish from

afar.” Everest, Stella, Madurai, Geneva…four generations before me all tried to save our species one way or another. And they all failed. Ash is right. I can’t let DNA be my destiny. “It’s not lost yet. And neither are we,” said Skye, lifting her chin. “‘Unconquered will.’” Everest smiled. “You see? There are a few good traits in our genes.” A long moment ed before Skye identified his expression, it was one she’d seen so seldom. Pride. Gears whispered as her great-great-grandfather reached out and laid a frail hand on her head. “Go on then, child. Your Mother is waiting for you.”

4

Needle

An orange meridian burned between black sea and sky, the Earth’s curve a fiery eye blinking awake in the dawn. Skye pressed her forehead to the observation window and watched the descending cabin’s lights cast dazzling patterns on the waves. Tremors danced through her bones as the Vator shuddered down its last few hundred meters of cable and settled onto the platform with a thud. “I’m back, Mother,” Skye whispered. Her words clouded the glass and she drew a shape in the condensation, the asymmetric loops of Ash’s syzygy symbol. “You might actually make that come true today,” said Hazel, leaning on the window beside her. “Connecting the worlds.” “They never stopped being connected. We just forgot the path.” “That’s why we’re blazing a new one.” Hazel grinned. “Have you and Ash figured out where we’re going?” “No. He’s hardly talked to me since we left Luna,” said Skye, shaking off a twinge of annoyance. She fingered the neck of her jumpsuit. The medallion lay pinned on the inside, a cool talisman against her collarbone. “It’s not you. That’s just what Ash does when he’s upset. He hides somewhere and avoids everyone. Thorn would always drag him out of it eventually, but now that he’s gone….” Hazel bit her lip, cheeks brighter than the nascent sunrise. She still likes him. Merciful Mother, it must hurt when the person you want to be with is stuck on another planet. The broadcast system crackled overhead and a stranger’s bland voice announced: “Docking sequence complete.” “Rowan said it better,” Skye murmured in response.

Dropping her voice, Hazel growled an impersonation. “We’re down, brats— get out of bed and get your boots on!” Skye laughed. “We’d better. I don’t know how far the new camp is, so we need an early start.” They climbed down to the main level and into a flurry of activity. Security officers marched into the lift and the girls pressed against the wall as a medic wheeled one of the new med-beds through the corridor. “Weird seeing adults in here,” Hazel muttered. “It must have been like this when it was new, full of astronauts and rich adventurers.” “I’m still surprised Everest spared so many personnel for the expedition,” said Skye. Hazel shrugged. “Juniper has a lot of pull. When you run GAEA and the Repro Lab, you get what you want.” As if to reinforce her point, a strident voice rang from the doorway as they ed: “Darksider!” Skye stood still, pointedly ignoring the hail until Juniper gave an irritated huff and addressed her again. “Skye, I need to speak with you.” “Help Chiba and Dakar suit up. I’ll meet you in the ready room,” Skye told Hazel, then went inside. The cabin had been converted into a makeshift laboratory. Instruments, strapped down against microgravity, crammed every surface. Stacked crates made the floorspace even smaller. “I don’t understand why you need all this equipment,” said Skye, picking around the crates. Juniper cast her an imperious look over the spectrometer. “And I don’t have time to explain. Now, where is Ash? I’ve hardly seen him since he fetched me these contraband gems on GEO.” She shook the jar of Edge pills. “I need to make sure he collects a full array of medical data from these so-called Tenax, more than what I could glean from biometrics.”

“We sent some field gear down to the ready room for you, all non-invasive diagnostics,” Lu’an piped up from her workstation. “Yes, but I’d rather get one or two live specimens back here for examination.” Juniper turned back to Skye. “Tell Ash to bring his brother —comparing twins would be ideal.” “And what if Hawthorne doesn’t want to come back?” Skye emphasized the full name with a glare. “He’ll come anyway. All the terranauts have been trained to put their Colony first.” “And where does their Colony put them?” Skye snapped. Moving over to Lu’an’s workstation, she leaned her elbows on the counter and lowered her voice. “Is Juniper treating you all right?” “Better than I expected, although—” Lu’an glanced over to ensure Juniper was occupied “—I’m almost certain she pulled a stray hair off my clothes and ran it through the analyzer when she thought I wasn’t looking.” She tugged at the green sleeves of her borrowed Colony scientist’s uniform. “You’re lucky that’s all she took,” Skye muttered, rubbing her leg. “It’s okay. I would’ve given her a whole finger for the chance to work with these specimens,” said Lu’an, scrolling through digital DNA sequences on the screen in front of her. She moved with slow, pained gestures in gravity, but her eyes shone with energy. “They’re fascinating. Some are just a gene or two different from the ones back in our archive, others are practically new species. It’s like watching evolution unfold. I wish Jeddah could see it.” “Me too.” Skye picked up a small dish of Edge and rolled the capsules around its rim. “Were you able to match the anti-fungal component?” “Yes. Ash was right—it’s from one of the new varietals. We isolated the chemical and reproduced it in a concentrated form. Now we need to test it against a spore sample.” “No shortage of those outside,” said Skye. “Ash is the Gatherer. I’ll make sure he finds you one.” If I can find him.

Leaving the laboratory, she reached the lift just as its doors closed on a pair of armored officers. “A little extra gravity work won’t hurt,” she told herself, and entered the central stairwell. Spiral steps carried her down through the Vator’s core, each footfall keeping time with the incessant hum of machinery behind the walls. Diffuse light emanated from the bottom of the shaft. Leaping the last meter, Skye peered into the shallow well under the stairs. Brown eyes shone back from the dimness, bathed in the glow of a tablet. “So this is where you’ve been hiding,” she said. Ash shrugged. “Not hiding, just trying to find some space.” “In a nook a meter wide?” “It’s one of the only blind spots in the Vator’s security cameras.” “How’d you discover that?” Inexplicable pinkness colored his face. “Someone showed it to me once.” “Did you hear the announcement? It’s time to go.” “I know. I’ve been trying to figure out where.” Holding up the tablet, Ash flicked through a succession of old satellite photos. “I think I know where Lily took the band.” Skye folded herself into the niche beside him and examined images of an isthmus city with a mountain looming on its far shore. “They could have gone anywhere on the continent! What makes you think they’re here?” “Something Lily said after she got hurt. ‘Meet me at the Needle, we’ll go swimming in the sound.’” A swipe of Ash’s finger revealed a metal spire overlooking grey water. “I think the painkillers muddled her brain and she started talking to Rowan in her memory. The Needle was probably where they planned to meet. I’d bet anything they finally kept that promise.” “It looks like the city from the picture Madurai kept on her altar.” Only falling to pieces. Skye fingered the screen. “This place is out of the Vator’s

sensor range, isn’t it? What’s your term for it—off the map?” Ash nodded. “Juniper shouldn’t be able to track us, but just in case, I won’t set course until we’re well away from the Vator. The others will just have to follow our quad and trust me.” Skye raised an eyebrow. “Sounds an awful lot like our last dive.” “Hopefully we won’t crash this time.” “Hopefully we don’t have any traitors along to sabotage us this time.” The flush returned, a color of embarrassment and self-reproach. “You’re the one who invited Linden.” “I think Magnolia was right about him. If you hadn’t been avoiding us all week, you’d know he’s been training Dakar and Chiba every day since we left GEO. Come see for yourself if you don’t believe me.” After an awkward dance extricating themselves from the cramped hideout, they went into the ready room. Hazel looked up from her locker and grinned. “Attention on deck! Our captain finally decided to show up.” “I was a lousy captain last time. Why don’t you take over?” Ash asked mildly. He turned to Linden, who was helping the two Exiles adjust the water reclamation reservoirs between their shoulder blades. “Are they good to go?” “We’ll find out in a few minutes.” Linden gave his charges a reassuring nod. “Okay, now thread the drinking tube through the suit collar, just like we practiced.” “You do that like you’ve been in GAEA for years,” Skye told Chiba, sitting on the bench beside her to undress. “This is the easy part—not much different from suiting up to work on the surface at home. It’s the gravity I can’t get used to.” Chiba began fastening the protective outer suit. Her limbs, her expression, even her springy red hair looked weighted and limp. “How can you even stand up straight?”

Skye offered a guilty grin. “I planned my trip to Earth months in advance, which gave me time to get stronger.” “Not that she let on,” Ash mumbled into his locker. Skye chucked her boot at him and he sidestepped it with a hint of a smile. “It’s easier if you keep moving. Inertia is what gets you.” Skye helped Chiba attach light, flexible armor plates to her suit. “ that game we played when we were little, seeing how deep into the Fringe we could go before we got too cold or dizzy to continue? This is just the same, except there’s a lot more to find here than stalactites.” “My parents used to get so mad when they caught me doing that.” Chiba giggled. “Dallas would lecture me about how undisciplined curiosity is what caused Sporespread and cast us all into exile, and Florence tried to scare me out of it by telling me that if I went too far, I’d end up in Shackleton Crater and the Colonists would get me.” “I’m surprised they let you come on the expedition,” said Skye, trying to keep the suspicious note from her voice. If she’s a spy for Madurai, I want to know before we leave the Vator. The last thing we need is another Willow. She glanced at Ash and the peculiar stillness of his pose indicated he was listening. Chiba furrowed her brow. “They didn’t. They both had fits when I volunteered, said I should stay on the pure path with them. But we’ve been following that path for ages and it hasn’t taken us anywhere.” “There’s still the Ship,” said Dakar, adjusting the fit of his goggles. “We’re never going to finish that ship, Dakar, and you know it. At least not in our lifetimes.” A flash of fire momentarily burned away the fear in Chiba’s eyes, and she looked back at Skye with a nervous smile. “So I figured I’d follow you into the unknown one more time. No matter how lost we got in those tunnels, you always found the way home.” Skye returned the smile. “I just hope I can get us home for good this time.” “And what if Earth isn’t home?” asked Dakar. Chiba’s scandalized hiss made her sound uncannily like her mother. “You can’t

say things like that!” “Someone has to. Our Ship only has one voyage in it, so wherever we go needs to be worth the trip.” “Where else would you go?” asked Skye, hanging her jumpsuit inside a locker. The medallion pinned inside winked its trio of worlds at her. Dakar shrugged. “I see an awful lot of stars up there when I work in the skylight. They could all be suns, all have planets. There’s more to the universe than a few kilometers of frozen lava tubes.” “We don’t need all the planets. Earth is our one Mother,” said Chiba stubbornly. “Besides, we don’t even need the stupid ship to get here if we can use the Vator.” “And if we decide Earth looks livable,” Dakar reminded her. “This is just a trial.” “Maybe so, but don’t step out that airlock thinking this is practice,” Ash intervened. “Earth doesn’t have a learning curve—it has cliffs and canyons, and even experienced divers who do everything right can still fall.” “Like Thorn.” Hazel fingered the bramble vine pattern she’d drawn on her mask strap. “And Dill,” added Linden. “And dozens of others.” Ash nodded. “Earth may be your Mother, but like any mother, she’ll punish you for being disrespectful.” “Then shouldn’t we bring these?” asked Chiba, nodding to the full rack of Hummingbirds. “Not this time. I don’t want it to look like we’re forcing anyone to cooperate,” said Ash. “Besides, no one at the Tenax camp would hurt us. You’ll be fine as long as you don’t go off alone. There’s a catchphrase all the weeds learn….” “Dive together, survive together,” Dakar and Chiba recited, earning a

thumbs-up from Linden while Hazel clamped her hands over her ears and swore. Fully outfitted, the six marched down the corridor and into the airlock. Skye watched the other two Exiles as the heavy door rose, revealing a dawn seascape of shifting pink and gold. Both gaped behind their masks. Transfixed, they limped onto the platform and stared over the blazing water. “Come on, we’ve got a long ride and the air filters go fast,” said Ash, hefting a crate of Juniper’s medical equipment on his hip. “Oh, give them a minute. I was speechless too the first time I walked out here,” Skye told him. “‘I thought the sky was blue? How deep is the ocean? Can I touch the water?’” Ash pitched his voice to imitate her. “You were anything but speechless.” “Fine, then. Amazed. Astounded. Astonished.” She shot him an arch look. “Did it seem that silly to you?” “Not really. It just made me think about how stark Luna looks by comparison, and how dull it would be to spend the rest of my life there.” Skye headed toward the quadcopters. “If we do this mission right, you won’t have to.”

⁂

“There,” said Ash, nodding out the windshield. Skye tore her gaze from the tall metal splinter rising amid the ruins and studied the water licking between algaedraped buildings. Figures moved along the shore. As the quad descended, their faces resolved in the misty morning light. Gin waded in the foam, tugging at a long line cast into the sound while Kory pried small, dark objects from the window ledges nearby. He swung up to the next story with a nimble move and

glanced back, but Jas—poised on a half-submerged slab of concrete with a net of woven plastic fibers in her hand—didn’t notice him. She did, however, notice the quad. All three Tenax turned toward the sound of the approaching vehicle. Kory waved, lost his grip on the slick wall, and fell into the water with a terrific splash. A fin fled from the spot where he’d landed. Jas plunged her net, viciously fast, and brought up a speckled brown mass. “What is that?” asked Skye, pressing her nose to the porthole. Ash glanced down. “Hydrolagus colliei, probably.” “You can tell from here?” Skye narrowed her eyes at Ash. “Did you sneak a little Edge before giving Juniper the bottle?” “No, that’s just one of the only fish species surviving in this area.” A frown creased his brow. “I told you I was done with Edge. I meant it.” “I know, but there must be times you want to turn up your sensory input and drown out your thoughts.” Like grief. Anger. Fear. All the things you keep locked up between your ears. Ash peered intently at the landscape below, avoiding her gaze. “Gin’s waving us inland. Look for a spot we can land three quads.” Skye sighed and accepted the obvious ploy to change the subject. “I still don’t know why you insisted on three when there are only six of us. Two would have been enough.” “It wasn’t last time. Besides, we’ll need extra room if any of the Tenax agree to go back with us.” “Juniper wants you to bring Thorn.” Ash fiddled with the control . “I don’t think he’ll be in any mood to help the Colony when I tell him what happened to Mom.” Gin guided them to a swath of weed-fractured macadam and Ash landed the quad. Climbing out into damp air, Skye touched her cheek in surprise.

“It’s cold!” “Did you think the whole planet was desert?” asked Gin. “This place is so much better than Goldstone. Cool enough go out during the day, more food, and all the rainwater we could want.” “Rain is a real thing?” The Tenax girl laughed. “It will be in an hour or so. What brought you back so soon?” She glanced at the other two quads and gave a soft inhalation of comprehension. “Ah, the Darksiders conquered the Shack and now they’re invading Earth.” “It’ll be a very slow invasion,” said Hazel, offering Dakar a hand as he limped out behind her. He ignored it and leaned heavily on the hull. Linden raised his vehicle’s hatch and Chiba inched out into the cloudy day. Disbelief rinsed the terror from her face. She staggered off the cracked pavement and fell to her knees in the mud. “Mother’s mantle,” she whispered, scooping up soil in a trembling hand. “Technically it’s her crust,” said Linden, with a genuine smile. “It doesn’t matter.” Chiba turned to Skye, eyes bright with tears. “She’s real.” “So is Venus. That doesn’t mean we can survive there,” said Dakar. He surveyed the crumbling buildings with a mixture of awe and distrust. “If we need masks and suits, it’s no better than Luna.” “You don’t need gear, just a few handy adaptations.” Gin blinked the nictitating membranes over her eyes and Dakar’s back arched in surprise. “What, afraid of a little evolution?” “Would I have come if I were afraid?” “Yes, if you were brave enough.” She put one hand on her hip and extended the other, an invitation and a challenge. “Are you?” Dakar appraised her, revulsion warring with pride on his face. Pride won.

He strode shakily forward in the unfamiliar gravity. A slow grin spread over the Gin’s scale-speckled face. “Oh, I’m going to have fun with you. Come on, I’ll introduce you to your new planet.” “Watch out! Ginger likes to tease her weeds,” said Ash. “Speaking of which, where’s Thorn?” “Probably waist-deep in seaweed and bad engineering. He and Xy are trying to build a tidal power generator since the weather here isn’t great for solar s. Head for the sound and you’ll find him.” Gin led Linden and the two Exiles up the street while Skye followed Ash and Hazel back toward the water. The lively desert village had grafted itself onto the coastal city like an epiphyte. People with patches of fine scales on their brown skin, none older than their mid-twenties, patched the mossy bricks of old buildings and sorted piles of scavenged material. Coywolves trotted through the streets, yapping congenially at one another. Thin sunlight cast a silvery aura on their fur. Skye caught her reflection in a grimy storefront window and it sent a giddy ripple through her blood. That’s what the future could look like, with a vaccine—me, on Earth. Macadam turned to sand beneath her boots as the road slithered into the sound. A short distance down the shoreline, Xyris and Thorn stood in the shallow waves, ing a boxy contraption between them. Fragmented bickering drifted in on the breeze: “Hold it level! The water needs to go in evenly.” “You’re not a team captain anymore, Thorn. Quit giving orders.” “I wouldn’t have to, if you’d come up with a decent design.” “It would work better if it floated,” Hazel yelled to them. Thorn snapped around, his grin flashing wide even at a distance, and waded back to shore in a wake of eager foam. “I expected you back over a month ago!” he said, dropping his prototype unceremoniously in the wet sand.

“Why’d you ditch me, Ash?” “Rowan didn’t tell you—” Ash broke off in a wince as Thorn punched his shoulder. “Of course he did, crater-brain. I just missed you.” The twins embraced, forming an imperfect mirror image. They hardly look identical now. The weak, feverish boy Skye ed had transformed with more than the Tenax mutations. Muscles toned in gravity filled out his frame, and his hair hung shaggy around a face suntanned to an even deeper bronze than his brother’s. “You doing okay?” Ash murmured. “I’d be better if we could get this stupid generator to work.” “Is that what this is supposed to be?” asked Hazel, wrinkling her nose at the amalgam of plastic and machine parts. “If I’d known you’d be so snotty about it, weed, I wouldn’t have told Xy that I wished you were here to fix it. If anyone can turn this pile of scrap into something useful, it’s you.” Thorn disassembled the frame, showcasing an interior of repurposed computer fans. “The waves are supposed to move the turbines and drive the converter, but that isn’t happening,” Xy explained. “Maybe we need differently shaped blades.” Hazel spun one of the fans. “Why use turbines at all? All you need are some magnets and wire.” When Xy looked puzzled, she knelt and drew a crude diagram in the sand. “See? Easy.” “Looks like the Vator,” said Skye. “No, I think she’s got it,” said Thorn excitedly. Grabbing a stick, he traced a detailed schematic version of Hazel’s sketch in a clear, smooth hand. “The magnets hang from a float, and the wave motion moves them in and out of the wire coil to generate electricity.”

“I bet we still have a ton of copper wire left from rigging the solar s,” said Xy. He trotted off into one of the nearby buildings. “You’ll still need some sort of battery to capture the power.” Hazel began a new sketch. “If you can get me some aluminum to go with the copper—” “You bet. Aluminum here is as common as rocks on Luna,” Thorn told her. “How much?” “Can we come back to this?” asked Ash. “I need to talk to you. Alone.” Thorn rolled his eyes. “Skye, I thought you were going to get him smiling for a change. Instead he’s more serious than ever.” But he let Ash lead him away from the group. Skye watched from the corner of her eye and Hazel stopped drawing. The boys stood close together, Ash speaking inaudibly. Then a howl that could have come from one of the coywolves echoed along the waterfront. “How can she be dead?” Ash’s mouth moved, but Thorn yelled over him. “Don’t tell me you tried to save her. You could have saved her a long time ago if you’d showed her you gave a quark instead of always having those stupid silent fights with each other. She probably sacrificed herself because she thought it was the only way to get you to care. Maybe it is.” His shoulders heaved, hands flexing open and closed. “Dad became a saint to you after he died. You worshipped Lily when you thought she was a teenaged martyr for GAEA. And I bet I was just your dumb joker brother until I got red-ringed, wasn’t I?” Tearing his arm from Ash’s grip, he stormed off down the tide line, kicking the water into bursts of grey spume. Hazel stepped forward and Skye caught her shoulder. “He probably needs to be alone for a bit.” But Hazel shook her head, her face etched with empathetic pain. “I’ve known Thorn my whole life. He’s not like Ash. Isolation is the last thing he wants, and if Ash won’t be there for him….” She pulled away. Water stained her suit dark to the knees, but she caught up and Thorn slowed. Rigidity ebbed from his stance as they walked away through the surf. Ash stared after them, hardly stirring when Skye moved to his side.

“He’s right. I only appreciate dead things,” he muttered. “I don’t believe that.” “It happened on Mare Ingenii, too.” “When? In the archive?” “No.” Ash glanced sideways at her, his expression unreadable. “Never mind. Let’s go find Lily. We still have a mission.” They climbed back up the street, boots skidding on pavement glazed with algae. Sunlight through the clouds gave the illusion of movement behind fractured glass edifices, sending uneasy tingles along Skye’s spine. She eyed the windows warily. “Ash, do you see anyone—” An intact pane flung open a meter in front of her and a small container flew through the air. Skye pulled Ash back as the object shattered at their feet, soil exploding over the road. “I need a Goddard-damned greenhouse,” a woman griped from inside. Kneeling, Skye scooped a tiny withered cactus from the remains of its pot and returned it to the window ledge. “I thought this whole planet was a greenhouse,” she replied. Phlox turned toward her, startled, then smiled a welcome. Tendrils of hair cascaded from the knot on her head, mimicking the plants crammed on rusted metal shelves around her. “Now I know why we genetically modified everything on Luna—it’s nearly impossible to make things grow outside their natural biome.” “Are these your medicinal plants?” asked Ash, leaning on the sill beside Skye. “They’re supposed to be, but desert species don’t fare well in this climate. Outside they get too wet. Inside, they don’t get enough sun.” Phlox glowered at her trays. “If I can’t cultivate them, we’ve got no medicine, at least not

until I’ve had time to study the local flora.” “Is someone sick? We’ve got a whole crate of medical equipment,” said Ash. The healer grimaced. “Nothing the Colony’s got can treat this.”

5

Sound

Slap. Slap. Slap. Ash trailed Phlox’s sandals along the damp cement ahead of him. Snatches of her conversation with Skye drifted back to him between the staccato footsteps, weaving with his dark thoughts: “…city is much bigger than the fort! How did you relocate so quickly with all these people?” People. The only species that doesn’t make any sense to me. I wish I could just tune in to them, like Skye does. “Countless quad trips. Kids, coywolves, supplies—even with Rowan organizing everything like a dive, it was chaos! But Lily said it wasn’t safe to stay.” Stay. Maybe I should stay on Luna. Since apparently I only care about dead things, I can have a whole dead world. “I can’t imagine anyone would’ve come to hurt you. Well, unless Willow showed up.” The name rattled Ash from his brooding. He glanced up and caught Skye looking over her shoulder at him. His ears burned. Phlox shook her head. “We scoured Goldstone, but didn’t find her. Predators must’ve gotten her.” “That’s still a less unpleasant end than if Lily had gotten her,” muttered Skye. “Probably, but having Rowan around seems to have cheered her up. All of us, really—it’s like our dive family is together again.” Bubbly young laughter echoed down the next street, evincing her statement.

Ash peered around the corner and relief eased the knot in his chest. Rowan sat in a patch of watery sunshine with two of the Tenax children seated beside him. A baby napped in the crook of his arm. “Let’s see you beat that, Carina,” he told the little girl, laying an antique communication device atop a teetering stack beside him. Carina narrowed her eyes in a shrewd way that made her look like Ryll in miniature. She balanced another gadget on the pile. “All on you, Caelum. Better not let your sister win,” said Rowan mildly. The toddler boy grasped forward, chubby fingers struggling with new concepts of dexterity, and the tower toppled. Plastic and metal clattered across the pavement. Both kids shrieked in delight. “Not so loud! You’ll wake Orion,” Rowan chastised them. “Go ahead! Maybe if he’s tired he’ll sleep through the night for a change,” said Phlox, taking her infant son and kissing the dark down on his head. “How’s breathing today, Rowan?” “Magnificent. All the air I ever wanted. Tree-flavored and everything.” “You know that’s not what I meant. You’re a deliberately lousy patient.” Phlox reached into the pouch at her belt and handed Rowan a small bottle of golden syrup. “But I made you something stronger anyway. It should help the cough and the fever.” “Good. I think you gave me the teenager dosage last time.” “The teenagers don’t usually need any more by this stage of the transition.” “Well, I’m old. Got a cure for that?” “Maybe you should suggest it as Juniper’s next project,” said Ash, rounding the corner. A grin lit Rowan’s face. “I hope you didn’t come all the way down here to tell me the vaccine doesn’t work on adults. I already figured that out.” He buried his face in his shoulder and let out a rib-splitting cough. Red streaks stained his sleeve when he raised his head. “Just wish the mutation would

hurry along. The first few weeks were fine, but this interim period makes me feel like space trash. Luckily I can still do what I’m best at—babysitting brats while others do the real work.” He nodded at the rooftop across the way. Following his gaze, Ash saw two figures fitting a wide, slanted board over newly cut gutters. “What are they doing?” asked Skye. “Installing a rainwater collection system,” said Phlox, waving the baby’s hand at the people on the roof. “My cacti may not appreciate all the water here, but the rest of us do.” “Then you won’t complain about unloading the tanks,” a contralto voice called down the road. Rowan turned toward it, eyes bright. A pair of coywolves loped toward them, pulling a sled laden with large plastic containers and salvaged pipes. Lily strode alongside, rebuilt military rifle slung across her shoulders. A slight limp marred the brisk, athletic grace Ash ed, but the rare smile made her more striking than ever. Phobos and Deimos bounded up, tails wagging, and Skye knelt to pat them, laughing as they licked perspiration from her mask strap. Lily bent down to kiss Rowan. “Feeling better?” “How could I not, with all this company?” He indicated Ash and Skye. “Bored with Luna already?” Lily asked them. “How did you know where to find us?” “Something you said when you were hurt,” said Ash. “Don’t worry, I didn’t tell anyone. You’re still off the map.” “At least until more settlers arrive,” said Phlox, with a wink at Skye. With a few deft twists, she converted her shawl into a carrier for Orion. “Better make sure we have enough water for everyone.” She loaded her arms with parts from the sled and headed to the roof. “Settlers?” Rowan frowned at Ash. “Is that why you came back?” “Sort of.” Bracing himself, Ash explained his discovery in the Sanctuary. Once coughing had silenced Rowan’s inevitable outburst—“Edge? Goddard

damn it, Ash, I warned you about that poison. Did you ever listen to anything I told you?”—Skye described the prospective trade deal and Juniper’s research. “Juniper is here?” Lily interrupted, her eyes contracting to slits. “On Earth, yes, but she won’t leave the Vator. She hoped a few of you would go back for medical exams,” said Ash. “Typical. She only cares about what new GAEA data she can glean.” “She’s not the only one who’ll benefit,” said Skye. “Learning how Spores trigger mutation is the only way we’ll be able to cure them, so the Exiles can settle here.” “What’s stopping them now? Are they afraid of these?” Lily blinked her translucent eyelids. “I’m not going to let Colony scientists dissect my people just because the Darksiders are squeamish about gene transfer. If they want to learn what Spores do to us, give them this.” Reaching into her tunic, she pulled out her field notebook and tossed it to Ash. “That’s the last thing I’m Gathering for them. I’m not a Colonist anymore.” “But what if you could be?” Skye persisted. “No one here chose to become Tenax.” “I did.” Rowan raised his hand in a feeble attempt to ease the tension between the two women. Skye ignored him and continued. “Maybe not everyone wants to stay here. Developing a cure for Spores would give them the option of going back to their families on Luna.” “Who’s going back to Luna?” asked Ryll, climbing down from the roof. Her astute gaze seemed to absorb the scene in a blink. “No one,” Lily snapped in a tone that made Phobos and Deimos whimper. “Skye’s got a fair point, Lil,” said Rowan gently. “Getting red-ringed isn’t a choice.”

“Neither is going back to a lifeless rock in orbit. We’ve got a good site here with everything we need.” “We will once the new water system’s working,” said Ced as he descended the ladder. Caelum and Carina abandoned their game and ran to their father. He caught one under each arm and spun them in a squealing circle. Lily nodded to the family. “Do they look like they want to leave? This is our home. Luna is just a sliver in the sky.” Turning sharply, she stalked away down the avenue of eroded steel and stone, her coywolves padding at her heels. Skye stamped fists into her hips. “She could give everyone on Luna a chance at a better life. How can she refuse to help?” “Because strength turns stubborn when it’s scared,” said Rowan, watching Lily go with a tender expression. “Scared? What’s there to be scared of?” Ryll studied Skye a moment before speaking. “When Lily found me after I got red-ringed, she’d been alone on Earth for fifteen years. She’d spent as much of her life among coywolves as she had humans—half her vocabulary had turned to yips and growls.” “Sometimes I still think she prefers the wolves.” Ced made a soft howling sound in Carina’s ear and she giggled. “Maybe, but her pack includes all of us now,” said Ryll. “ at the fort, how anxious she was that people might want to go back to the Vator?” “She’s afraid of being left alone again,” Ash murmured. Ryll nodded. “Can you imagine how it feels to have everyone you care about abandon you?” “I don’t have to imagine.” Skye shot a wrathful look after Lily, then marched off in the opposite direction. “For people who can’t get along, those two are awfully damn alike.” Rowan

chuckled. “We Gathered ourselves some tough specimens, Ash.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” “It means Goddard help us in trying to talk them back to the table.” Rowan held out a hand so Ash could pull him to his feet. He winced, massaging his chest, and trudged after Lily. Ash followed Skye back to the grey beach, where she threw herself down on a decaying pier beside Hazel, who was tinkering with the generator prototype. A few meters back from the water, Thorn hunched beside a patch of dancing amber light. Is that a fire? The Shack’s alarm rang in Ash’s head, echoing in the air vents as they slammed shut. He forced his feet forward until he reached his brother. Thorn sat on an exposed slab of concrete, doodling on it with a charred stick. A woman’s face emerged under his hand, fine grey marks outlining a faint smile and worried brow. “Good portrait,” said Ash, sitting beside his twin. “Even better than your mask strap drawings.” “Just trying to what she looked like.” Bleary pink touched Thorn’s eyes beneath the extra lids, and lines on his cheeks betrayed recently dried tears. He sketched in silence for a moment. “I didn’t mean most of that stuff I said before. What happened to Mom wasn’t your fault. I just can’t believe I’ll never see her again. With her and Dad both gone, I’m stuck with you.” He mustered a weak smile. “And I live four hundred thousand klicks away,” muttered Ash. “It doesn’t have to be that way,” said Thorn, tapping Ash’s mask with his stick. “If I can survive here, so can you.” “I can’t quit now, Thorn, not when we’re so close to launching for Mars.” “Who gives a quark about Mars now? Earth’s all right. The air’s not so bad with these Spore-powered lungs, and we can eat real food, not just that cultured protein crap from the Shack.” Thorn indicated the mollusks steaming on hot bricks beside the fire.

Ash examined one of the shells. “Mytilidae.” “You should see the size of the ones offshore. I’ve swum out there a couple of times.” Thorn nodded to the distant, half-sunken buildings protruding from the sound. “Being underwater is a little like microgravity, except instead of dead space, it’s…it’s like you’re connected to the whole planet somehow. I think Skye might be on to something with her Earth-mother idea.” “Our mother is gone,” whispered Ash. “Then what’s the point of going back to Luna? There’s nothing left there for either of us. Stay here with me and we’ll have a whole world to explore.” Thorn poked the fire. Red sparks drifted up toward the overcast sky. “All the years we dove, didn’t you ever wonder what it was like outside the suit and mask?” “I was always too busy looking for my next specimen to think much about it,” Ash itted. Thorn cast him a rare sober look. “Maybe it’s time you did.”

⁂

Branches framed the amphibious city below, a storm-charged breeze rippling through the leaves. Ash shifted against the tree trunk so the bark ridges pressed a new pattern into his back. I could climb up here every day if I stayed. No crowded corridors, no cramped shuttles, just space and light and air. Shutting his eyes, Ash tried to hone his senses the way Edge had. Wind caressed his face, faintly electric; a coywolf’s cry echoed in an empty street; and the branches below rustled in a distinctly un-botanical way. He peered over the side of his perch. White-blond hair gleamed among the dark boughs like the moon in an Earth night sky.

“How do you always know where to find me?” he called down softly. “What do you mean?” “Whenever I find a place to be alone. That rooftop on our last dive. The stairwell in the Vator. Now here.” Quizzical blue eyes shone up at him. “Do you want me to leave?” “No.” Ash slid over and Skye climbed up beside him. “This isn’t one of your Fraxinus trees,” she observed, gazing around the tree. “No. Acer macrophyllum.” She plucked a leaf and compared it against her palm. “It has veins, too.” “Maybe Earth’s species aren’t as different as I used to think,” Ash murmured. Skye cocked her head in her birdlike way. “You want to stay this time, don’t you.” “Why not? There’s nothing for me on Luna, now that….” Pain swelled in Ash’s throat, blocking off the rest of the sentence. He stared across the water and tried to force his breathing into rhythm with the tide. There’s no point talking about it anymore. Your parents are dead, and you can’t change that. Just push it away and— A hand skimmed his shoulders, warm even through the layered dive suit, and the last strained levee in Ash’s heart cracked. Tears restrained for weeks spilled down his face. Gentle gravity drew him in and he surrendered to it, burying his eyes in Skye’s collar. She wrapped both arms around him, resting her cheek against the top of his head. For once she didn’t speak, just held him while the wind whispered a dirge in the leaves overhead. “It shouldn’t feel like this,” Ash gasped at last, when the sobs subsided enough to permit words. “She shut down on us after Dad died. I was mad at her most of the time, and we hardly saw each other once I started GAEA.

Why does it hurt so damn much that she’s gone?” “Because you loved her, even if you didn’t realize it,” said Skye. “So the pain isn’t all bad. Crying for Geneva reminds me I’m different from Madurai, who’s just withered up without any family.” “Like me.” “Not if you stay here with your brother.” “Yeah, but what about the vaccine, the truce, getting to Mars? What about everyone back on Luna?” Skye slid her arm from his shoulders and looked away. “I think they would understand. Who could blame you for—” She broke off in a gasp, fingers flying to her face. A cool mote touched Ash’s forehead, then another. The canopy began to rattle—softly at first, then a crescendo of droplets. Skye stared at the beads accumulating on her armor. “Is this…rain?” “Yes, but there’s no lightning, so we’re okay here. The tree should keep us mostly dry.” “Dry? Why?” Laugher mingling with the rush of water, Skye slid off the branch and swung a precarious route back to the ground. “Don’t let your filter get wet!” Ash shouted, but she had already dashed into the open. He clambered down after her. Fine, fast drops engulfed him the moment he stepped from under the tree’s verdant umbrella. Rain soaked through his protective outer suit, and he shivered as his skin tingled awake. Rivulets sparkled along the eaves and festooned dilapidated buildings with fine silver garlands. Skye’s lithe form blurred into a green smudge on the cityscape. Ash caught up with her on a crumbling seawall. Water smoothed her hair into ribbons against her neck. She tilted her face to the clouds, blinking madly, mouth open beneath her mask as if she could taste the rain. “Water from the sky,” she said as Ash came up beside her. “Not from crater ice or hydrogen atoms distilled from regolith. It falls from the sky.” “And destroys your breathing filter, so stick it inside your suit unless you

want to be a permanent resident.” Ash unclipped the canister from Skye’s belt and stuffed it into one of her cargo pockets, but she barely noticed. “It’s the sound,” she breathed. “And the tide’s coming in. Watch your boots.” “Not that sound. This one.” Skye hummed a delicate melody and Ash recognized the Bach recording from Everest’s chamber. “It’s rain on water.” The notes do sound kind of like raindrops. Liquid percussion hammered the waves into hypnotic ripples. Something about it soothed Ash’s mind. All the times it rained on my dives, it was just an inconvenience. I never imagined it could be…nice. “Is that how people were able to create all those beautiful things Everest talked about, because they had so much on Earth to inspire them?” Skye asked. “People find inspiration in all sorts of places.” Ash glanced at her profile, sharp and pale as lightning against the grey clouds, wonder in every line of her face. The shadows licking at his spirit since Fern’s death subsided a little. Even after what she’s been through, she always finds something in this brutal universe that amazes her. And that amazes me. “I wish you could stay.” The words slipped off his tongue before he could catch them. Drizzle cooled the heat in his cheeks as Skye turned to him. Raindrops jeweled her eyelashes. “Why can’t I?” “I thought you didn’t want to mutate, and if Lily won’t help Juniper with research….” “Apparently I’m already a hybrid. So what are a few more unorthodox genes? We were meant to be on this planet, Ash.” Reaching for his hand, she took the souvenir leaf and matched it to his palm. Lobes aligned with his fingers, green veins against blue. “We changed our Mother. Now it’s her

turn to change us.” “What about the other Exiles?” “Chiba and Dakar can tell them about Earth, and if they still want a vaccine, they can wait. I’ll have home ready for them when they arrive.” “Or you could just stay here with the Tenax. With Rowan and Thorn….” Ash hesitated a heartbeat before adding, “And me.” “I don’t think Lily would want me around.” “I bet she’d be happy to have more people in her pack. Come on, we’ll ask her.” Skye looked at him for a long moment. Then she grinned and took off down the slick macadam, leaping in a zigzag pattern to hit every puddle on the way. Ash kept up with her this time. Blood beat a warm anthem in his veins. She’s going to stay. Thorn will be here, and Lily and Rowan…maybe Hazel will come eventually, too…maybe we really do have a future here. They knocked at Lily’s door, shook the water off themselves, and went inside. “Lily, we have an idea—” Ash’s mouth went dry at the sight of Rowan limp in a hammock, eyes shut and brow glazed. His breath came in erratic wet rasps. Phlox listened to his chest with a pair of funnels connected by a tube while Lily paced behind her. “What’s going on? Is he all right?” asked Ash. “Does he look all right?” Lily snapped. Fear edged her voice. “He had a bad coughing fit and now he can hardly breathe.” Phlox lowered the cup from her ear. “His lungs sound terrible. None of the others had this during their transition, Lily. Something’s wrong.” “Then fix it.”

“With what? Half my garden is dead. You want me to go scrape some random slime off the seawall and smear it on his chest, do a little chant and see what happens?” The two women glared at each other, but shared worry darkened their eyes. “We brought a whole crate of medical equipment,” Skye offered. Phlox shook her head. “Humans wouldn’t have gone extinct on Earth if they knew how to heal Spores.” Lily turned to Ash. “You said Juniper came down to develop some kind of cure.” “Yes, but I don’t know what kind of progress she’s made.” Coughing drew a line of blood at the corner of Rowan’s mouth. Lily grasped his hand. “Start up one of the quads and we’ll find out,” she said through her teeth. Ash ducked back out into the rain before she could change her mind. “I’ll get the rest of the team,” said Skye, close on his heels. All the mirth had fled her face, leaving it streaked with water and resolve. “It’ll be faster if I just take Lily and Rowan alone,” said Ash. “You can follow with the others. But find Thorn and send him over, will you? I owe him a decent goodbye this time.” Nodding, Skye darted off through the misty streets. Ash jogged up to the landing pad. Rain cascaded down his vehicle’s dented shell. He popped the hatch and began running the pre-flight diagnostic. Battery’s not great—thanks, rain—but it’ll recharge itself some once we’re airborne. Nav systems check out, all rotors at one hundred percent…. Wet footsteps reached his ears. “Thorn, I’ve got to go,” Ash asked without looking up. “Rowan’s in really bad shape, but once I get help for him I want to—” He turned in time to

glimpse the brick hurtling toward his face. Pain smashed through his skull and the world went black.

6

Blood

“I don’t believe it,” said Hazel for the hundredth time, her knuckles white on the quad’s steering yoke. “It’s ridiculous.” “Well, Ash wouldn’t have flown off without us, so what else can have happened?” Skye strained her eyes for a glint of the stolen vehicle through the dense white fog. “Thorn always protected Ash. He wouldn’t kidnap him.” “But he also wanted them to stay on Earth together. Maybe he got angry when Ash tried to leave.” “So he took him back to the Vator? That makes no sense.” “No.” The anchor platform’s outlines materialized below and Skye tallied the quads in a glance. “But they’re here.” Opening a comm channel, she instructed the vehicles behind them as Hazel landed. The hatch rose and they stepped into a swirling white haze. Silence magnified Skye’s breath to an alien hiss in her mask. Hazel trotted along the row of docks, touching the metal underbelly of each quad. On the last one she yanked her hand away with a curse. “Still hot, but empty.” “They probably went inside.” “Can’t have—Thorn would contaminate the whole Vator with Spores.” Propeller drafts from the two incoming quads ruffled Skye’s hair and parted the fog, revealing a low geometric shape on the deck’s far side. That wasn’t there when we left. She darted through the atmospheric cocoon. A wall emerged to meet her;

she stopped her momentum with a hand and the material gave under her touch. “Looks like one of the inflatable habitat units we use to mold lunarcrete on the Shack,” said Hazel, jogging over to her. “What’s it doing here?” The entrance flap whipped open a meter from her face and an unsteady figure staggered into her. “Ash!” She caught his arms, keeping him upright. A weal ringed with dried blood shone on his forehead. “What happened?” The dazed words barely transmitted through his mask. “Go back.” He pushed her away and restraints chimed on his wrists. “I heard the quads. Go back or she’ll take you, too. Tell Lily she has to move camp, fast.” “She couldn’t outrun me the first time,” said someone in the tent behind him. “And neither will you.” The familiar voice crystallized Skye’s blood cells into vengeful shards. Glancing up, she locked gazes with another girl down the barrel of a Hummingbird. Her dive suit, bleached almost white from the sun, was tattered and missing armor. The once-sharp haircut hung ratty, framing a face dusted with new Tenax scales. But the ruthless glitter in Willow’s brown eyes shone more brightly than ever. “Looks like there’s a trend for pet Darksiders.” Willow nodded at Linden, emerging from the fog with the two Exiles behind him. “I thought you were too much of a coward to come back, Linden.” Linden stared at her, face drawn. “You…you ran off into the desert! What are you doing here?” “Winning, just like I told you at Goldstone when you were too scared and stupid to listen. Why collect bugs and flowers when I can Gather a whole new human species?” Willow batted her translucent extra eyelids at him. “I

wasn’t sure how to do it until you all showed up and mentioned Juniper was on the Vator.” “I thought I saw someone in those empty buildings!” Skye beat a hand against her thigh. “How long have you been spying on the Tenax?” “Since they made dozens of quad trips hauling gear to the new camp and didn’t bother checking for stowaways. I got the idea from Hazel.” “I’ll give you more than ideas,” Hazel growled, her fingers curling into fists. Willow smirked at her. “You did—you gave me the boys.” “She ambushed me,” said Ash, rubbing his bruised forehead. “Must’ve taken out Thorn when he came to say goodbye, then flown off.” “She took him, too?” Hazel shoved past Willow into the habitat. “Halley smokes, what is this?” Skye went after her and gasped. The cramped structure housed a hastily assembled field laboratory. Three med-beds took up most of the floor, with equipment and monitors arranged along the flimsy walls. A masked figure glanced up from sealing one of the beds. “I know Gatherer habits are hard to break, Willow, but we don’t need any more specimens. Not yet, anyway,” said Juniper. Monitors behind her displayed spinning double helix diagrams and nucleotide sequences. “Specimens?” The word settled cold in Skye’s throat as she spotted Thorn strapped beneath the bed’s hatch, wearing a half-sedated expression identical to his brother’s. “Twins, one infected and one not? It’s the perfect case study for Spore pathology.” Juniper hovered a finger over the bed’s control as Hazel made an aggressive move toward her. “Stay back, unless you want to watch a vivisection.” Hazel froze, unleashing a mouthful of epithets while an angry tear slid down her cheek.

“Is this what you had in all those crates?” Skye ground her teeth. “We never should have made you come.” “Made me?” Juniper gave a dry snort that might have been a laugh. “After decades persuading people like Ash’s parents to break laws for me, I know transparent manipulation when it skulks into my lab. You’re not nearly as clever as you think you are, Darksider. But you did save me the trouble of convincing Everest to let me accompany you.” “So you planned this from the start,” said Ash, clutching Skye’s shoulder to stay upright. “Not entirely. I only hoped to examine a few of these Tenax in person. I never imagined Willow would turn my modest research plan into the most significant scientific opportunity we’ve had in a century.” Willow beamed at the praise. “Since there’s an extra bed, maybe we should study one of the Darksiders, too.” She took a purposeful step toward Chiba and Dakar, but Linden moved in front of them. “I won’t let you force it on them like you did me,” he told her. “You think Edge will save you again? It wears off.” Willow sidled up and ran a finger around the rim of his mask, almost flirtatious. “It wouldn’t be long before you ended up with scales and extra eyelids like me.” Linden looked at her with more sadness than fear. “Those aren’t the traits I’m afraid of having in common with you, Willow.” She bared her teeth, jerking her hand back to the Hummingbird’s trigger. A sharp report rang on the platform outside. Glassware shattered inches from Juniper’s arm. The entrance snapped fully open to frame Lily, a vengeful shadow against the spiraling fog behind her. She ed Rowan with one arm and held her rifle cocked against her hip with the other. “I’m the last kid you get to ruin,” she growled. Juniper slowly raised her hands, a slow smile creeping beneath her mask. Hazel darted around her and unlocked Thorn’s restraints.

“And you.” Lily turned her glare on Willow. “Drop the Hummingbird or I’ll add some extra holes to your jumpsuit.” Scowling, Willow complied. “I want you brats in those de-con pods, now,” Rowan ordered, the old authority carrying through his weakened voice. “Linden, take the weeds first—if anything happens to those two, your alliance is shot. The rest of you, right behind.” Nodding, Linden ushered Chiba and Dakar out of the tent. Skye leaned close as they brushed past her. “Get help,” she whispered, so quietly she wasn’t sure any of them heard. Only the swift flick of Chiba’s eyes gave her hope. Juniper stared at Lily with satisfaction. “Look at you. Even more incredible than I imagined.” “Touching.” The milky second lids closed over Lily’s eyes, making her face alien and unreadable. “When you finally manage to say something kind to me, it’s from the wrong end of a gun barrel. You haven’t changed, Mother.” “Mother?” Skye repeated, staring between the two women. They couldn’t have looked more different: Juniper in her neat green coat and mask, Lily leather-clad with a mass of fine braids stirring around her shoulders. “You didn’t know?” Lily snorted. “I guess she doesn’t talk much about me, given what a disappointment I turned out to be, running off to Earth and abandoning GAEA.” Juniper clicked her tongue in dismay. “You are GAEA’s greatest triumph. All those years I followed your biometric signature, I never imagined you’d evolved into such a marvel.” “You knew she was here the whole time?” Rowan rasped, taking an unsteady half-step forward. “And you never told me?” “If I had, you’d have jumped out the airlock on the next trip to Earth.” “Instead of being your damned accomplice with the vaccine?”

“Good Goddard, Rowan, you’re thicker than my last apprentice.” Juniper’s chuckle held no humor. “All you ever injected into those kids was saline and vitamins. The vaccine was just a cover.” “For what?” “GAEA,” said Juniper, as if that explained everything. “I don’t see how any of this s the Genetic Archive of Earth Ancestry,” said Thorn, tossing off the last straps and sitting up with Hazel’s . “That’s not the only thing GAEA stands for. It has a second purpose— Genetic Adaptation for Extraterrestrial Advantage.” Juniper raised an eyebrow at the shocked faces. “What, you thought plants and bugs were the only creatures we’ve been specializing for Mars?” Skye glanced around at her friends—Hazel and Thorn gaping, Ash mouthing the acronym’s new definition in disbelief. “You’ve genetically engineered humans, too?” she asked, the words unreal in her ears. Mother’s molten mantle, Madurai was right. “Everest prefers the term ‘anthroforming,’” said Juniper. “Like terraforming, but instead of changing a planet to suit us, we’re changing ourselves to suit the planet.” “Everest knows about this?” Ash demanded, finding his voice at last. “It was his idea. With limited resources and a low population, he knew we’d only have one chance to colonize Mars, and he wanted to give us every possible advantage. So the Repro Lab began optimizing our DNA with genes that originated in dry, temperature-extreme regions analogous to Mars— mostly haplogroup J, with some choice modifications.” “So that’s why we all look alike,” Hazel murmured, laying her hand beside Thorn’s to compare the almost-identical hue. But how would they know which traits were useful? Realization burst across Skye’s mind. “Earth is a test environment, isn’t it? That’s why you wanted the divers’ medical information and the Tenax’s biometric transmissions!”

A half-smile quirked Juniper’s mouth. “You’re quicker than your old grandfather. Everest insists that our population is too small to spare any individuals for testing, so we refine the gene mix every generation based on how the previous one fares as terranauts—gravity fitness, oxygen efficiency, little factors like that. But we had no long-term study to evaluate whether the anthroforming actually made a difference.” “Until you,” Lily snapped. “No,” said Juniper. “Until you. When I took over the project forty years ago, I observed an intriguing de novo mutation in the p53 gene of one embryo.” Ash frowned, recollection drifting behind his unfocused eyes. “Why would that matter?” “Because p53 suppresses tumors. I thought it might enhance our tolerance for solar radiation—important on a planet with a sparse atmosphere. So instead of destroying the anomalous embryo as protocol required, I let it develop and fixed the adoption lottery to take full responsibility for the resultant child.” Juniper looked at Lily, unapologetic under her daughter’s stare. So I’m not the only one who’s a product of her mother’s experiments. Skye bit her lip against a sudden swell of empathy for Lily. The Tenax woman stood motionless, drawing short, angry breaths through flared nostrils. “That explains a lot about your parenting,” she told Juniper at last. “Because I encouraged your exceptional qualities?” “Encouraged? You pushed me to be perfect. The only way to wring any approval out of you was to be the best at everything. The smartest. The strongest. The highest-performing terranaut.” “And look how much you accomplished.” Lily snorted. “See, this is why I decided to die on Earth. It was the only escape from being your trophy.” Something almost like sadness stirred deep in Juniper’s face. “You think

that’s all you were to me? When your biometric data started coming through from Goldstone, I dreaded having to hear your heart stop beating.” “But you couldn’t allow personal attachments to inhibit the survival of an entire species,” said Lily dryly. “No, because there were larger things at stake than my feelings. It was my first opportunity to see how an anthroformed body fared on a hostile planet. And you thrived.” Pride shimmered in Juniper’s voice. “The only significant difference between your genetic profile and the ones on record was your p53 mutation, so I modified the genetic templates in the Repro Lab to include it.” “Is that why we can adapt to Spores like she did?” asked Thorn, staring at the fine scale-like skin on his arms. “Because we’ve got that gene?” Juniper nodded. “In an abstract sense, you’re all Lily’s children.” “So that’s why it took fifteen years before any others arrived,” said Lily. “You had to raise a whole new crop of freaks. But why dump them at Goldstone with me?” “All good experiments have to have repeatable results. Every red ring brings us closer to creating the perfect Martian colonist.” “Yeah, I’ll make a real prize settler,” Rowan muttered around another outburst of coughs. Juniper heaved an exasperated sigh. “You’re the same age as Lily. You didn’t get the altered gene. Anyone without it is just as susceptible to Spores as the old Earthlings.” Picking up a medical scanner, she held it over Rowan’s chest. “Fascinating. No one has contracted a conventional Spore infection in over a century. If I could get a biopsy….” “What in the blasted universe is that?” asked Rowan, staring at the discolored lung on the screen. “Aspergilloma—a fungal ball. It’s destroyed your respiratory function and started spreading the infection to the rest of your body.”

“Then cure him. You found some plant derivatives that kill Spores, right?” Desperation etched every line of Lily’s face. Juniper’s eyes ignited. “We’ve only tested it against lab samples, but an acute infection in a live host will make a much better trial.” She hurried to her workstation. “What’s in this serum?” Rowan scrubbed knuckles into his sternum, wincing. “A compound from one of the recent dive finds, a new varietal of origanum.” Juniper pulled up a picture on the monitor of a scrubby plant with clusters of small purple flowers. Hazel caught her breath. “I that one!” “You found it in that flooded gulf city, Ash,” said Thorn, squinting at the screen. “My last dive.” “I thought I’d gotten you killed for that stupid little weed,” Ash murmured. “Don’t underestimate little weeds.” Thorn glanced at Hazel. “It was worth getting red-ringed if this stuff can cure Spores.” “I’m not promising it can,” said Juniper over the tinkle of glassware. “From what I’ve seen so far, this Aspergillus strain adapts so quickly that it will develop resistance to any anti-fungals in its host organism after a few exposures.” “It only has to work once,” said Lily. Rowan frowned at her. “Then what?” “You live, idiot.” “On Luna, a universe away from you? That’s not living.” Juniper approached with a syringe and he pushed her away. “I don’t want it. And don’t try sticking me in one of those med-beds, either. I’m through with cages.” The vehement statement fractured into coughs and Rowan doubled over, clutching his ribs. Lily moved to catch him and the rifle slipped.

Willow lunged for it. Skye tackled her. Grappling for the weapon, they stumbled through the entrance flap and into an armored wall. Uniformed security officers pulled them apart. “And I thought the other kids were pulling a prank when they said there was trouble on deck,” said the nearest one, face occluded behind a tinted visor. Thank you, Chiba. The officer leaned inside to address Juniper. “What do you want us to do with them? There’s room in the new brig with the other divers and the Darksider scientist.” The momentary flare of hope fizzled and died in Skye’s heart. “Take the girls inside,” said Juniper. “The boys stay.” Black-gloved fingers tightened on Skye’s arm. She twisted hard, torsion burning her skin. Ash lurched toward her and an officer pinned him against one of the tent’s posts. Willow claimed Lily’s rifle and held it on her, smirking. “Why do you all listen to her?” Hazel screamed, kicking furiously at the officer trying to carry her out while his partner wrestled Thorn back into the med-bed. Juniper shrugged. “I oversee GAEA and the Repro Lab. Every adult on the Shack wants my favor for a boost up the adoption queue or a chance to have their teenager grounded early from diving. I control our children and, by extension, our future.” “Not here,” Lily snapped, setting Rowan gingerly back on his feet. “Apparently not. Willow told me about your little native Earthlings. What an interesting mutation, reactivating reproductive function when we took such care to disable our gametes.” “I can get you one of the kids to examine,” said Willow eagerly.

“Like hell.” Turning, Rowan shoved through the habitat door. Lily charged after him. Officers started in different directions, caught between the shouts of Juniper and their own captain; in the confusion Skye tore free and dashed out outside. Rowan stood at the platform’s edge, one foot suspended over the oily waves. “What are you doing?” Lily called to him as the others poured out of the tent. “The only thing I’ve ever been any good at—protecting brats,” said Rowan. Determination hardened his fever-bright face. “Here’s the deal, Juniper. Lily and Thorn go back to the mainland and disappear with the rest of the Tenax. My terranauts get in the Vator and go home unharmed. Agree to that and I’ll let you poke through my insides all you want. Otherwise, whatever mutant fish are still living in this soup will eat your only chance to study a Spore infection.” Juniper shaded her eyes against the sunset, unimpressed. “Not quite—I’ve got another sample of your genetic material.” She turned an unpleasant smile on Skye. Skye’s skin prickled at the look. “Why are you staring at me?” “The sequencing I ran on you matched Rowan’s markers. He’s the source of the Colonist genes jammed into your antique DNA.” Juniper gave a high snort that might have been laughter. “Congratulations, Rowan. You’re the first Colonist since the Schism to have biological offspring. Sort of.” Rowan gaped at Skye, bloodshot eyes wide. “But I never even saw a Darksider until you. How….” “My mother rescued a sick Colonist on the pole and stole a bit of his DNA,” said Skye slowly, prying the explanation from her numb brain. “Genetic engineering did the rest.” “Without the p53 anomaly, she’s just as vulnerable to Aspergillus as you are, Rowan.” Juniper tapped Skye’s mask. “If you drown, I’ll study the disease’s progression in her instead.” For a few interminable heartbeats, no one moved. Then Rowan slumped as

though an invisible blade had cut the tendons in his limbs. “All right. Don’t hurt her.” A few steps forward seemed to drain the last of his energy. He sank to the deck and Lily sprang to his side. Slouching against her, Rowan squinted curiously at Skye. “Can’t see any resemblance. 'Course, I can’t see much at all right now.” “Aspergillus can blur your vision once it infiltrates the blood vessels,” said Juniper. “You’re probably—” “Shut up,” Skye snarled. Walking a few meters felt like crossing a continent. She knelt in front of Rowan and let him study her features. “You don’t look a damn thing like me, thank Goddard,” he said at last. “Maybe not on the outside,” said Lily, comparing them beneath arched brows. “But she’s tough enough to brave a strange planet for the people she cares about. That sounds familiar.” “And she doesn’t give a quark about regulations, either, or she never would have made it to Earth in the first place.” A wet laugh bubbled in Rowan’s throat. “Definitely my daughter.” The word rang strange in Skye’s ears. “Guess that’s why my hallucination on the pole years ago seemed so real— someone was actually there,” said Rowan. “What was your mother’s name?” “Geneva.” He repeated it, nodding approval. “Well, I owe her more than just my life. If it weren’t for her tracking that signal, I’d never have found Lily again. You’ll have to thank her for me.” “She died years ago,” said Skye, taking Rowan’s hand between both of her own. “So don’t go making me an orphan.” He gave her fingers a weak squeeze. “Wish I could swear to it, but Lily can tell you that I’m not good at keeping promises.” Lily scowled and planted a fierce kiss on the top of his head.

Heat stung Skye’s eyes. “If it weren’t for my dreaming and plotting, none of this would have happened.” “You’re right. We’d never have known the people we love are still alive on Earth. The Colonists and the Darksiders would never have talked to each other. And I’m pretty sure Ash never would have smiled again.” Rowan grinned past her at Ash, still standing dumbstruck at his captor’s side. “All of that is definitely your fault.” Reaching out a finger, he tapped Skye’s cheek lightly. Then his face blanched and he curled into a ball. Bonesplitting coughs echoed off the Vator cabin’s imive walls. Bloody sputum spattered the deck. “Where’s that serum?” Lily barked at Juniper. The geneticist scurried into the tent while Rowan sagged back against Lily, head on her shoulder. “It was always going to end like this, Lil,” he whispered. She dabbed his face clean with her sleeve. “Yeah, the same way it started— with your mouth all bloody.” “At least it’s my own this time.” Rowan ran a thumb down the fine scar on Lily’s lip. “I never forgot the day that weed took a swing at you.” “Or how you tried to clean me up and decided it was a good time to kiss me,” Lily said gruffly. “Memorable first kiss, both of us covered in blood.” “Maybe that’s how you stayed with me all those years—crosscontamination.” Rowan laughed. “Now you can keep me alive the same way. Somewhere in all those transgenes there’s a bit of me that will never leave you again.” “Damn right you won’t.” Lily cupped his face in her palm. “We’re going together this time, no matter where.” Rowan smiled up at her with red teeth, his eyes brilliant and distant as stars. “Into the wild.” Spasms arched his body, ribs shivering and contracting. Lily cradled him, her face drawn in anguish, until the coughing ebbed into shallow breaths. The soft rhythm struggled for a moment, then dissolved as quietly as shoreline mist.

Dormant pain burst inside Skye’s chest, old wounds of loss tearing open with such ferocity that she gasped. A sleeve brushed hers—Ash, sinking down beside her. He touched Rowan’s lifeless shoulder, then dropped his arm, trembling. His hand fell against Skye’s, drawing her fingers into the life and warmth of his palm. Juniper came out of the tent holding a long, wicked syringe. “I think this will be most effective injected directly into….” She paused, surveying the scene with annoyance. “Oh, he died already?” “Already? We expected it twenty-five years ago.” Lily smoothed the hair back from Rowan’s forehead and kissed him languidly. When she drew away her lips shone scarlet with his blood. She stood, lifting his limp form with her, and threw back her head in an animal howl and leapt from the platform into the dark sea. Juniper rounded on the guards. “Don’t lose my specimens, you worthless armored amoebas!” A blur streaked past and Willow dove into the ring of white foam. Moments later she broke the water, dragging Lily by the neck of her tunic. Rowan floated quietly to the surface a meter away. Officers hauled Lily over the side and she sprawled dripping on the deck, a joyless reflection of her last swim. She tried to rise, but yelped as Willow planted a boot on her injured lower back. Juniper crouched beside Lily, wiping tears and dirty seawater from her daughter’s face with a gloved hand. “I’m sorry, Lily, but our species’ survival is more important than any one of us. Rowan knew that. And if I ever taught you anything, you know it, too.” Straightening, she addressed the guards. “Let’s have a little order here—boys in the beds, girls in the pods, and someone fetch that body for me before the fish get at it.” They moved forward in formation, an unstoppable black line like the lunar terminator leaving night in its wake. Skye swiped at the nearest uniform. Hummingbirds shrieked. Agony twisted her insides and her kneepads slammed into the deck. Ash’s fingers tore from hers, then pain ignited along her scalp as a fist seized her hair.

A threatening finger slid beneath her mask strap. “Keep fighting and you’ll end up like Daddy,” Willow purred against her ear. “At least if I take it off, you can kiss Ash goodbye. He’s easy to control when he likes you, isn’t he?” “I think he learned his lesson when you betrayed him,” Skye snapped. “He betrayed all of us by letting you lure us off course with your stories about Earth.” Willow yanked on the strap, forcing her forward. “But I’m going to set us right again. Juniper’s research on the Tenax will make our genes strong enough for Mars, and when people stand in that red soil they’ll know I was the one who got them there. Maybe Ash wins the medals—” a hard shove sent Skye sprawling into the de-con pod “—but I’m going to win a whole damned planet.” Rain drenched Skye for the second time that day—not the cool drizzle of the northwest, but searing liquid needles that stung her skin. Streams down the glass carved the anchor platform into a series of shimmering dioramas: Hazel flailing and cursing as someone tossed her into the adjacent pod; Ash struggling as two officers dragged him into the tent; Willow trotting toward the quads with a purposeful bounce in her step. Steam from the jets obscured it all in white haze. “Lily was right, Mother,” Skye sobbed to the world outside. “You’re a bitch.” She slammed her hands against the door until tears and chemicals burned her eyes into hot blindness.

7

Symbionts

“Male subject, approximately forty years of age…cause of death, acute respiratory failure from invasive pulmonary aspergillosis.” Juniper blocked Ash’s view of the autopsy table, but her cool dictation provoked gruesome images in his drugged mind. I’d rather see the whole procedure than have to watch Lily watch it. Sealed in the bed on the table’s far side, she stared at Rowan’s corpse, for once not bothering to conceal her anguish. A succession of wet snapping sounds made her hands shake in their straps. “Opening right lung…visual confirmation of aspergilloma…removing for histologic examination….” “Shut up before I throw up,” Thorn muttered thickly from Ash’s other side. Is she going to dissect us, too? The staccato beat of his cardiac monitor quickened. Ping. Ping. Ping. Like rain on the leaves. Where’s Skye? Is she already planning her escape, or do they have her on a table somewhere…. The electronic drops accelerated to a storm. Ash willed his limbs to move, but only managed a faint pinch from the needle pumping paralytics into his blood. “Well, Rowan, you proved even more useful to me in death than in life,” said Juniper at last, peeling off her gloves. “I suppose you earned your disposition of choice.” She wheeled the autopsy table out of the habitat. Moments later, a distant splash echoed off the deck. Lily bit back a puppylike whimper. Ash forced the words from his swollen throat. “Lily, I’m sorry. If I’d figured out earlier it was Edge that protected me, not that fake vaccine—” “He would have done it anyway, Ash,” she cut him off in a hard whisper.

“Rowan was always excessively sentimental,” said Juniper, re-entering in a brief flash of daylight. “I never understood how you two got so close, Lily. What did an analytical mind like yours find appealing in such an undisciplined spirit?” Lily squeezed her eyes shut. “Something I couldn’t analyze.” “There’s nothing you can’t analyze. Just look at these field notes! Comparison of the current Spores and Ash’s fossil shows that Aspergillus evolved just like you conjectured.” Juniper studied one of the sketches in Lily’s journal, propped open at her workstation. “But I question your theory about the Spores acting as symbionts. What purpose can continued infection serve once the gene transfer occurs?” She displayed a pair of sequences on the monitor and studied them, tapping a thoughtful finger against her mask. Ash twisted his neck to examine the images. “Whose DNA is that?” “Yours and Thorn’s at birth, from the Repro Lab records. Identical. But this is what they look like now.” A keystroke shifted one of the charts. Translucent bands of color fell across Juniper’s face as she pointed out a few bright lines. “See this? Reptilian. Probably introduced to the old crops for ultraviolet resistance, but in humans it might have manifested in dermal scales. And this mammalian gene—I’d guess Camelidae, for improved water processing—is likely responsible for those extraordinary eyelids.” Lily snorted. “Is there any primate left?” “Please, Lily. These are hardly the first transgenes to appear in the human genome. We’ve been picking them up for millennia. But your novel acquisitions somehow prevent the aspergilloma from impairing respiratory function like Rowan’s did.” Juniper pulled up a quartet of lung scans. Three featured indistinct grey masses. “I’ve got one of those fungal balls, too?” Thorn gagged. “Yes, but I can’t attribute any useful function to it.” Juniper hefted the bottle of serum in her hand, contemplative, then affixed it to the intravenous pump on Thorn’s machine. “So I’ll treat it like any other infection. Let’s see if I can get your lung scans to match your brother’s.”

“You can’t just shoot him full of anti-fungals. Killing a symbiont risks killing the host, too,” said Lily, casting worried glances between the boys. “Only one way to find out.” Juniper flicked on the device. Liquid slid through the tubes into Thorn’s helpless vein. He squirmed uselessly against it, spitting a string of Hazel’s favorite profanities. “If you’re wrong, he’ll die!” Ash twitched against his own restraints, muscles weak and unresponsive. “And if I’m right, perhaps I can finally develop a real cure and make us a dual-planet species. That would double our chance of survival.” Juniper connected a second vial of serum to Lily’s med-bed, unflinching despite her daughter’s hateful glare. “And not just ours. My experiments might discover a way for your Darksider friend to live on Earth.” Pain jabbed Ash in a place no drugs could numb. “She wouldn’t want it if it meant hurting people like this.” “Then she’s as soft and stupid as her DNA donor,” said Juniper. “Without a vaccine, her only future is a pointless life on Luna.” “That’s not true. I…I can take her to Mars.” Hope dawned on the dark horizon of Ash’s mind, a sudden light so brilliant it hurt to examine it too closely. “It may not be the planet she dreamed about, but it has air and water now. Things can grow there.” “Not without genetic optimization. Which she lacks.” “Skye’s tough enough to survive anywhere. You’d know that if you ever saw more of her than you could fit on a microscope slide,” Ash snapped. “With all those specimens you studied for GAEA, you should know that organisms can surprise us.” “Only if we fail to control them.” Juniper adjusted something on his medbed’s control . Blurriness crept into the edges of Ash’s vision and the plastic shell dissolved around him. The cardiac monitor transfigured his heartbeat into slow drips like water beading on a leaf. A leaf held in slim, pale hand.

Water from the Skye. That would make her laugh. Adrift, the screams reached him only as distant thunder amid the tranquil rain.

⁂

A tempest of footsteps echoed on the lunarcrete walls. Skye’s mind seized on the distant rumble and painted the darkness inside her visor with memory —the roar of water transforming a derelict metropolis into a silver-streaked dream, rivulets tracing the contours of Ash’s armor and drawing patterns in his hair. What have they done with him? Is that why they put this stupid blinder on me again, so I can’t look for him? They clearly don’t know what it’s like growing up underground. She reached out her other senses as she’d done on the Vator and the shuttle and the silent drive from Malapert Mountain, straining for the squeak of a med-bed wheel or a whiff of Juniper’s laboratory chemicals. But no promising clues came to her, only the ache in her cuffed wrists, the stale sweat of the officer gripping her arm, and the clatter of marching feet. Did Juniper send him back to the Tenax as her new specimen, or did she…. Macabre possibilities reeled through her imagination, and she slid gratefully back to reality when the visor stirred on her brow. “Ash?” she murmured, ing how the last blinder she’d worn had fallen away in his hands to reveal her first breathtaking glimpse of Earth. This time the light coalesced not into continents, but into a sneering face on the other side of a grate. “Confusing the identities of others. That will be a nice note for the psychiatric file,” said Pyres. The Shack’s brig came into focus, each of the six cells occupied. Hazel, Linden, Chiba, Dakar, and Lu’an rubbed their

eyes with bound hands. The officers who’d escorted them filed out, leaving only the young medic to pace the row. “Why are you evaluating us? My mom is the psych specialist,” said Hazel, glaring at Pyres. “Which is why Everest ordered her to treat that crazy old Darksider lady. Must’ve knocked a few brain cells loose when she fell in the airlock—she’s raving mad. It’s a full-time assignment for poor Magnolia, so I’m the one conducting routine mental health assessments. And yours are not looking good.” Pyres smirked at his tablet. “I imagine you’ll be confined for a long time.” “Like Ash and Thorn?” Skye demanded. “Where are they?” “I can’t tell you that.” Her tongue curled, prepared to lash out, but inspiration stilled it. Instead of railing, she forced a tone of cool disdain. “That’s because you don’t know, do you? You’re not privileged for that information, now that you’ve been demoted to junior medic.” “What’s wrong with junior medic?” Lu’an snapped from the adjacent cell, clearly thinking of Sydney. “Nothing’s wrong with it! It’s an important position,” Pyres insisted. “Not compared to being Juniper’s apprentice,” said Linden. He glanced across the cell block at Skye and gave her a brief, conspiratorial wink. Anger twisted Pyres’ face. “You stupid kids think that’s the greatest prize in GAEA, don’t you? Let me tell you, it’s not worth the price. Do you know what I had to do? I pushed my dive team to get the best specimens and one of my Hunters almost died. I sabotaged the filter of a girl named Jasmine who came close to edging me out of first place in the standings. And when Juniper finally picked me, I slaved over that stupid gene sequencing program for hours, catag and analyzing and….” “And she humiliated you,” Skye finished for him with an unexpected twinge of pity. “All those sacrifices, and you end up mopping blood off the airlock

floor.” The tablet shook in Pyres’ fist, and Skye adopted a gentler tone. “Juniper didn’t dismiss you or any of the others because they lacked talent. She just refuses to trust anyone with her projects.” She fixed every muscle of her expression into an earnest mask. “She thinks she can abuse all those other divers the way she did you, but you don’t have to let her. You can help us expose her and make sure she’s held able.” Pyres stared at the floor, trembling. “I saw her directing officers to unload three med-beds from the transports,” he whispered at last. Chiba gave an uneasy hiss. “She can’t have brought them back here. They’d contaminate all of Luna!” “Maybe she has them in quarantine,” said Dakar. “Somewhere away from the rest of the Colony.” ing how her eye color used to unsettle Ash, Skye stared into Pyres’ face with her lashes wide, maximizing the effect. “Where did she take them?” “I don’t know.” “Then we’ll go find them ourselves,” said Hazel, scrutinizing the hinges of her cell door with predatory interest. “I can’t just let you all walk out of here,” said Pyres. “There’s a pair of guards watching the block.” Lu’an glanced at the surveillance camera mounted on the ceiling, then at Skye. “Not if they have to carry me out. All this drama and gravity is just too much for my weak lunar-dwelling heart,” she said, and collapsed in a spectacular heap on the floor. “Guard! We’ve got a medical emergency!” Pyres squawked at the door. “If we lose one of the Darksider delegation, the helium-3 trade proposal will go nova and we’ll never get off this rock.” Skye crouched down beside Lu’an. “Did I ever tell you you’re wonderful?”

she whispered through the barrier, and Sydney’s quote earned a hidden smile. The officers brought in a stretcher and Pyres unlocked the cell. Kneeling to check Lu’an’s pulse, he palmed the key backward to Skye. “I’ll need both of you to accompany me to the Health Centre—I can’t risk being alone with this creature when she regains consciousness,” he told the guards. “Everest may have gone soft on the Darksiders, but I’m certain they’re all conspiring behind our backs!” Skye suppressed a smile. The door slammed shut and she counted to ten as slowly as she dared, giving them time to leave. Then she jammed her fingers through the grate and unlocked it. “Don’t get too excited. That was the easy part,” she told her grinning teammates as she freed them. The cell block door led to a small antechamber packed with surveillance terminals and equipment lockers. Skye found the restraint key and unbound everyone’s hands. Linden shrugged on the uniform jacket draped across the back of a stool. “Think I could ?” he asked, pulling a stiff expression. “Maybe if you wear this, too.” Chiba grabbed the helmet stowed beneath the workstation and settled it over Linden’s head. “At least no one will recognize your face.” “Not right away, but they’ll definitely notice if we wander around the Shack, poking into secure areas,” said Hazel. “We need to know where the others are.” “If Juniper can find people thousands of klicks away on Earth, we can find them here,” said Skye. Bending over the keyboard, she pulled up the command line and began fiddling. A few queries brought up a schematic of the Shack. Three blinking lights clustered in a remote side suite near the Health Centre, each labeled with a name and a serial number: Hawthorne. Ash. Lily. Giddy relief swept through Skye’s veins. “They’re in Juniper’s lab. And they’re all alive.” She expanded the biometrics tab and watched Ash’s heart pump numbers.

Hazel tapped a fourth dot titled Juniper in the center of the trinity. “How are we going to get her out of there?” “Same way we get rats and rubble out of our way on Earth,” said Linden, snatching a Hummingbird from the nearest locker. “Blasting down the door might get us in, but security will be everywhere before we can get out.” “Do you have a daily assembly, like the Sanctuary?” asked Dakar. “We could just wait until she leaves for that.” Skye’s fingers danced on the keys. Video archive…. Sort clips by date.… Official notifications…. “It’s not exactly Madurai’s birdsongs, but maybe….” Everest’s face appeared on the monitor, making them all jump. “All of the Colony council, please me in the auditorium immediately for an emergency session.” The recording hitched and restarted. “All of the Colony council….” “That’s from the day we arrived,” said Chiba. “Yes, but there’s no timestamp—Juniper won’t know the difference.” A few more commands located Juniper’s lab computer on the network and tunneled into its communication node. Skye transmitted the clip and sat back in the chair, flexing her hands. Everyone held their breath. Minutes slid by. Then Juniper’s dot stirred, made a swift circuit of the room, and moved into the corridor. “It won’t take her more than ten minutes to get there and realize she’s a council of one,” said Linden. “Even with a return trip, that’s not much time.”

“Then you’d better start marching prisoners,” Skye told him. She quickly overrode the door lock for the lab and followed the others into the hallway. They shuffled in formation, heads down, while Linden directed from the rear. “Stand aside! Prisoner transfer,” he barked at ersby, doing a credible impersonation of an overeager recruit all the way to Juniper’s suite in the Health Centre. Only the eerie violet glow of three med-beds lit the laboratory. Skye hurried to the nearest one and caught her breath. Electrode patches speckled Ash’s chest, rising and falling in time with the cardiac monitor. A web of bioplastic tubes sprouted from his arm. Flinging back the hatch cover, Skye prized the needles from his veins, talking low under her breath. “Ash, can you hear me? Mother’s molten mantle, if I ever see Juniper again…come back, Ash, we need to get out of here….” He stirred toward her voice like a plant seeking a solar lamp. Dark eyelashes fluttered open. A rare smile touched his sleepy face. “You always know where to find me.” “It’s not hard when you have a tracking chip,” said Skye, laughing with relief. She helped him sit up. “What did she do to you?” “Not much. I was the control group for what she did to Thorn and Lily.” Ash glanced at the adjacent beds. Their occupants lay unconscious, breathing shallow. “Skye, look at this,” said Hazel in a tense whisper. Skye leaned over to examine the display on Thorn’s machine. A familiar diagnosis blazed up at her: NO RESPIRATORY CONTAMINANTS DETECTED. “How is that possible?” “Juniper gave them a concentrated version of the origanum derivative and destroyed their spore symbionts,” said Ash. “They’re not contagious anymore, but I don’t know how else the treatment might’ve affected them.” “We’ll worry about that once we’re out of here,” said Skye. She reached over to

remove Ash’s electrodes, but Hazel caught her arm. “ the racket the med-bed kicked up when Lily unplugged herself back on the Vator platform? If you disconnect him, the machine’ll think the patient’s heart stopped and set off an alarm. My mom taught me all about these machines—they’re smart.” “Not smart enough to tell one sixteen-year-old boy from another,” said Linden. Opening the neck of his jumpsuit, he plucked the array off Ash’s chest and slapped it onto his own. The monitor gave a hitch, then settled back into rhythm. “Juniper won’t know anything until she comes back and finds me standing here instead of Ash.” “Or Lily.” Chiba’s hands shook a little as she touched the Tenax woman, but she transferred the diagnostic clips to her own body. Dakar did the same with Thorn. “Glad we have a good team looking out for us,” said Ash with a grateful nod. Linden grinned. “Someone’s got to end Willow’s winning streak.” “Now there’s a worthwhile mission.” Ash swung himself out of the med-bed, swayed in the low gravity, and pitched forward into Skye’s arms. Biometrics she’d watched on the computer came alive in a warm pulse under her hands. She held him up until he steadied, then helped him remove the tubes from Thorn’s arms. His twin stirred as the flow of drugs subsided. “Ash?” “I’m right here.” “I can’t reach you…the lights, the red ring….” Tremors ran down his entire body. “How did I get…why’d they leave me? The sand hurts….” Ash shook him by the shoulders. “Wake up, Thorn. You’re not in the desert.” “Oh Goddard, it’s a coywolf…but how can it kill me if I’m already…quark me, I’m dead!” Both sets of Thorn’s eyelids snapped open, releasing a

stream of tears down his cheeks. Panic faded from his expression as he glanced around the assembled faces. “I’m getting sick of waking up in pods,” he whispered, struggling to smile. “Better than not waking up at all,” Ash told him. “And you’re not alone this time,” said Hazel fiercely. “I can tell.” Thorn pried her fingers from his arm, the close-bitten nails leaving dents in his flesh, and gave her hand a weak squeeze. “You okay, weed?” “The boy who spent the last two weeks in a test tube is asking if I’m okay.” Hazel snorted. “Did Juniper destroy your Spore symbiont or your brain?” “Not sure. Let’s see what still works.” Thorn levered experimentally onto one elbow, then slid his legs over the bed’s edge. Ash and Dakar got him up while Skye roused Lily. Unfocused brown eyes scanned the room when the tubes came out, and a curse slid between her chapped lips. “She brought me back to Luna. All the years I wanted to come back, she left me on Earth to die, and now when I want to stay….” “We’ll get you home,” Skye promised, helping her dress. “You can’t even get me back to the base station,” Lily grumbled. “It’s too far to go on foot, and none of our chips are authorized to start the rovers.” “The Colony’s rovers,” Skye corrected her. “Is there another kind?” asked Ash. “The one I drove here from Mare Ingenii the first time. I hid it, not far from Shackleton Crater. I’ll bet it’s still there. But it only takes four.” They exchanged an uncomfortable glance. “Go without me,” said Hazel promptly. “Lily and Thorn have to get home. Only Skye knows where to find her rover, and Ash knows Vator operations better than any of us. You don’t need me.”

Thorn raised his eyebrows at her. “What happened to the Hazel who always insists on tagging along everywhere we go?” “She grew up. You just didn’t notice,” said Hazel, slinging Linden’s pilfered Hummingbird over her shoulder. “Besides, if I stay here I can probably buy you some time. Security can’t come after you if all their rovers are mysteriously disconnected from their batteries!” “Now that’s the Hazel I know,” Thorn chuckled. He leaned lightly on her shoulder and they limped toward the laboratory door. “If Juniper gives you trouble, say that we forced you to help us,” Skye told Chiba. “Then make sure the other Exiles know the truth about our chances on Earth. We’ll discuss what to do after I drop these three at the base station.” “You’re not coming back with us?” Ash asked her as they padded down the hall, ing Lily between them. “Why, so I can stand on the anchor platform and wave goodbye? Going back will only show me things I can never have.” Skye tried to smile, but the sudden swell of bitterness weighed the corners of her mouth. “I guess my DNA is my destiny after all.” Ash seemed about to say more, but they reached the airlock and Hazel chivvied them all inside. “You guys leave from here. I’ll go to the lock in the next sector—maybe I can draw attention away from you.” She jimmied open a row of equipment lockers and helped Lily into a suit. Skye focused on her own gear, avoiding Ash’s gaze, but when she reached for her oxygen tank he was already holding it for her. “Just because you can’t live on Earth doesn’t mean you have to be stuck here,” he said quietly as she shrugged into the harness. “The helium-3 deal can still happen, and we’ll take the Exiles to Mars instead.” “We?” Skye shook her head. “You told me you wanted to stay on Earth. You should go while you have the chance. Mars may never happen, and you said yourself there’s nothing left for you here.”

“Yeah, but when I said that I thought—” He stopped abruptly and spent a long moment adjusting her tank straps. “Look, we’ve been in this together from the start. I’m not going to just leave you behind.” Skye looked over her shoulder at him. Reflected ceiling lights cast constellations in his dark eyes. Could I navigate home by those stars? “Don’t forget your helmets,” said Hazel, plunking a pair down beside them. She carried a third one to Thorn. “I kept my promise about looking after Ash. Now you’ll have to take over.” “But you’re coming back to Earth eventually, right?” A frown darted across Thorn’s face. Hazel bit her lip. “I don’t know. My parents are still here, and who knows what will happen when people learn the truth about GAEA? It might be a while.” “Hopefully not twenty-five years,” said Lily with a faint smile. “Well, just in case….” Standing on her tiptoes, Hazel grasped the collar of Thorn’s suit and drew his face to hers. His eyes flew wide when their lips met, the helmet falling from his hand with a shocked thud. The kiss lasted a few heartbeats, then Hazel pushed him firmly away. Before he could speak, she picked up the helmet and placed it over his head. “Go home,” she told him. With a quick salute to Ash and Skye, she scampered out of the airlock. Thorn stared after her. “Where’d that come from?” His muffled voice sounded dazed. “The past fourteen years,” Ash told him, grinning. He helped Lily up and looked at Skye. “Ready to go?” “Almost.” She rummaged in the lockers and tucked a few repair tools into her belt. “Just in case the rover’s a little cranky after being abandoned for months.” “It hasn’t been abandoned. It just had to wait a little longer than expected

to get where it was meant to go.” Earnest determination shone in his gaze. Heat stung Skye’s eyes, and she donned the helmet to hide her face, gripping the airlock lever. He means it. He’d take me to Mars…but can a bare red rock ever be home?

9

Crater

Solar s glittered in the distance, a bright coil on the rim of Shackleton Crater. “Cutting straight across the PELs is the quickest route,” Ash said into his helmet mic. He led the others over the stark landscape. One of the massive automated tillers trundled across their path, processed regolith fanning out in its wake. Skye took a few bounding strides and leapt onto its roof. “We’re less conspicuous here than on the ground,” she called. “Can’t turn down a free ride,” said Thorn. Hazel’s kiss seemed to have energized him. Taking Lily’s arm, he helped her swing aboard, then clambered up himself. Skye extended a hand for Ash, and he jumped to catch it. “Why are you smiling?” she asked, pulling him up beside her. Ash gave a tiny shrug inside his suit. “Maybe because the last time I saw you on one of these, you pounced on me and tried to suffocate me.” “And you got me taken prisoner.” “Exactly like you planned.” Laughter cascaded through his earpiece. “Nothing about this has gone exactly as planned.” Maybe that’s a good thing. Grey dust rolled beneath the vehicle’s caterpillar treads, ferrying them to the crater’s slope before turning back toward the plains. They hopped down and began the awkward scramble up the rim. Regolith slid under Ash’s boots. “I forgot how dead this place is,” Lily muttered, clawing at the loose soil.

“Couldn’t grow so much as a cactus in this stuff.” “I used to pretend your solar array was a forest,” said Skye as they reached the top. A field of heliostats spread across the permanently lit peaks, s tilted to the sun like robotic flowers atop thick metal stems. “Of course, I’d never seen trees before.” The regretful pause at the end of her sentence—And I’ll never see trees again—made Ash’s chest hurt. “I bet we can grow an Acer varietal on Mars someday,” he ventured. “How about Sorbus?” asked Lily. “When I get home I’m going to take Phobos and Deimos all the way to the east coast, bring back a sapling, and plant it beside the Needle. Then there’ll always be a rowan there.” Drawing a ragged breath, she forged ahead through the pillars. A thread of ruby light cut the space where she stood. She yelped in pain, stumbling to the ground. Blood and atmospheric gases sprayed from a gash in her leg. “You’ve taken your last step off the map, Lily,” said a cold voice over the comm channel. Holly stepped out from behind one of the heliostats, a strange-looking weapon primed in her grip. “I know how much you like going where you’re not allowed. That’s why I watched your chip location from the minute Juniper hauled your mutant carcass back here. It’s about time someone held you to the rules.” “Are we finally going to finish this fight?” said Lily scornfully, pinching the ripped edges of her suit until the pliable material knitted itself back together. “Go on, Holly, take another swing at me. Catch my top lip this time so I’ll have a matching set of scars.” “I don’t need fists anymore. One beam from this will shatter your faceplate and you’ll be sucking on a vacuum instead of Spores. That goes for all of you, too,” Holly added, swinging her gun’s barrel onto Ash, Skye, and Thorn in turn. “What is that? It’s not a Hummingbird,” said Thorn. “No. Sound waves won’t carry without an atmosphere, but an industrial laser will.” Holly spared her weapon a look of dark satisfaction. “Designed

it myself, with some help from a few engineers eager to avoid a helium-3 prospecting assignment. I thought we should have something to defend our territory, now that the Darksiders are threatening us.” “When have we threatened you?” asked Skye. “You’ve tried to destabilize us from the start. I watched your first interview with Ash, when you baited him with fairy tales about Earth.” “But she was right,” said Ash. “There’s more to Earth than we were told.” “And people should decide for themselves which hostile rock they’d rather die on,” Lily added. Holly gave a short, nasty laugh. “You want to condemn more kids to the wasteland? Ivy wasn’t enough?” “Who?” Ash frowned. “My twin sister. What, you thought you were the only rarities that ever came out of the Repro Lab?” Holly asked when Ash and Thorn exchanged startled looks. “Why do you think I always tolerated mischief from you two? It reminded me of how Ivy and I used to be. Before Lily killed her.” Lily yanked off her suit’s utility belt and cinched it above her wound. “I didn’t kill Ivy.” “You dragged your team out of Vator range on every damned dive, forcing them into the most dangerous places you could find.” Anger tore rough edges in Holly’s voice. “She was just a weed, so excited that she’d follow you anywhere, even into an unstable building. Was it worth whatever bug or flower you found, crushing her under tons of ancient concrete?” “I told my Hunters to stay out of that wreck, but Ivy didn’t listen,” Lily snapped. “Magnolia tried to stop her and almost got killed herself because your sister couldn’t follow orders.” “Neither could you! You knew diving that city was prohibited, but you went anyway. My sister died because legendary Lily thought she was above the rules.” Holly pulled a tangle of cuffs from her belt and tossed them in a

graceful arc. They landed silently at Ash’s feet. A flick of the gun ordered him to don a pair. “You turned out to be just as bad, Ash. Colluding with one of our enemies, stirring up dissent…just like your father.” Icy bumps erupted on Ash’s skin. “What do you mean?” “He was another one risking the good of the Colony with his stupid behavior. When I caught Violet tampering with the de-con pods, I knew Alder must’ve put her up to it. He never got the punishment he deserved, but I hoped getting packed off on the survey team would at least limit the damage. But no, he managed to turn even that into another opportunity to destroy our fragile little world.” “How? In his last transmission, he said he’d found something that could change things for the Colony,” said Thorn, clasping his own restraints with a resentful twist. “Finding helium-3 deposits could only have helped us.” “He didn’t find helium-3,” Holly snapped. “He found a Darksider. We’d assumed they were extinct, but he encountered one out past the pole and she told him some nonsense about a signal from Earth. Stupid Alder believed her and tried to bring her back to tell everyone. Luckily I was on patrol that night.” It can’t have been…. Ash turned to Skye and found her already staring back at him, eyes wide behind her faceplate. “Geneva,” she whispered. “Was that her name?” asked Holly dryly. “I’ll go scratch it into the rock I buried her under, so the rescue team wouldn’t panic at the sight. Darksiders alive, survivors on Earth? It would’ve started riots on the Shack, and I was responsible for keeping it safe. So I did what I had to.” “Murdering our father?” Thorn roared through the earpiece. “And my mother?” said Skye, shaking so hard that her suit quivered. Holly gave an impatient sigh. “Everyone on the Shack has lost someone. It’s the price of survival. If you were older, you’d realize your pain isn’t so special. Maybe that’ll be some comfort to the people you leave behind.” Her

thumb flicked up the intensity dial on her weapon. “Although none of you have anyone left, do you? Your boys’ parents are gone, and I heard Rowan got himself infected with Spores and died Earthside. Don’t tell me he was still sweet on you after all this time, Lily—it was revolting enough twentyfive years ago.” Lily swiped at her, snarling, and Holly fired another beam into the regolith centimeters from her knees. “I guess rats and coywolves aren’t the only feral animals on Earth,” she said with disdain. “I’ll put you down the same way.” “I don’t mind dying like a coywolf,” said Lily. “They never run. They just stand there and stare at you, daring you to pull the trigger.” Clenching her jaw, she stood on her wounded leg. Skye darted forward to steady her and the laser gun fixed them both in its sight. “You don’t have to do this, Chief Holly,” said Ash. “Then who will? It’s my duty to protect the Colony, whatever it takes. Stay out of the way and maybe the Council will be lenient when they sentence you for treason.” Festering grief darkened Holly’s eyes as she glanced between the twins. “This is your last chance to prove your loyalties are in the right place.” Ash didn’t need to look at Thorn for confirmation—he felt his brother’s movements in parallel, their kinetic impulses tuned to the same subconscious frequency. They ed Lily and Skye. Holly nodded grimly. “Just as well. I hate sitting through trials. I won’t have nearly as much paperwork for a group suicide by escaped prisoners pining for Earth.” The laser swept a line at their feet, driving them back to the crater’s edge. Ash glanced down and swallowed. The frozen throat of Shackleton Crater yawned beneath his boot tips. “I didn’t know the Colony believed in the Judgment of the Stars, too,” said Skye with a strained laugh. “When the crater is four kilometers deep, there’s only one verdict.” Ash tore his gaze from the void and looked at the others, capturing a last

glimpse of each face. Lily cast a dark smile at Earth overhead; Thorn argued with Holly over the commlink, fear eroding his charm; and Skye stared straight back at him. Her tinted faceplate stole the color from her eyes, but their intensity burned brighter than any star in the vast sweep behind her. The look seared away everything except two familiar words that tasted different than they ever had before: “Dive together?” He held out a hand. Skye took it, closing her fingers briefly around his. “I like the second half better.” In one fluid movement she snatched the tools from her belt and spun, loosing dual missiles toward Holly. The security chief blasted one in midair—it exploded in a red flash—but ducked as the second glanced off her helmet. Thorn lunged for her and fell back with a cry as the laser sliced open his arm. One of his feet slipped, dislodging rocks into the maw. Lily hauled him back to safety. Skye scrambled up the nearest heliostat’s maintenance ladder. When Holly aimed for her, Ash bounded over and forced the gun’s barrel down. “I bet you’ve never heard these words in your life, Ash, but you’re a disappointment,” Holly told him through clenched teeth. She thrust her head forward with brutal force, slamming their helmets together. Reverberations stabbed Ash’s temples. The weapon slid from his grasp and Holly threw him to the ground. Hairline cracks crawled across his faceplate, fracturing her image as she leveled the gun at him. “Dying for a Darksider. Like father, like son.” Scarlet fire ignited in the weapon’s mouth, but arced up as Skye leapt from her perch onto Holly’s back. Shards rained from the splintered solar s. Silent as a tree in an empty forest, a massive spar toppled. Ash rolled aside seconds before it crashed onto the regolith. Through the haze of debris he saw Holly stumble backward, Skye’s weight dragging her off balance. Her boots scrabbled over the precipice. They hung suspended for a sick heartbeat, then plummeted into the crater. All the oxygen vanished from Ash’s helmet. He charged forward through twisted metal and glass, skidding to the edge. The steep side sheared away below him. Two figures shrank at the edge of the light. A last sunbeam flared on Skye’s faceplate before the shadows swallowed her.

Axons fired and frayed in a nauseous frenzy. No. She can’t. It doesn’t happen like that; it’s too quick. She was just there! Mad impulse seized Ash’s body and he slid one leg into the crater. Familiar hands pulled him back. “You can’t go after them! Are you crazy?” said Thorn. “She survived it once!” Ash ripped free, ignoring Thorn’s hiss of pain at his injured arm. A stronger force clamped him tight across the chest. “Whatever goes down there isn’t coming up again, including you.” Beneath the rough candor, Lily’s voice held a note Ash had never heard before, one of raw empathy. “And Skye.” Hearing her name broke him. His lungs drew air, but none of it seemed to reach his brain. Paralysis gripped every muscle, leaving him lifeless as the lunar dust. His vision blurred the gang of black-clad security officers as they swarmed through the solar array. It’s just like the day we met. Except she’s gone.

10

Mars

“The recovery bots found Holly’s remains a mile down the crater wall,” Everest said, speaking so gently Ash barely heard him over the hum of the computers. “I’m afraid Skye’s, without the geolocation chip, will pose a greater challenge. But I’ve ordered the search to continue.” “It won’t bring her back,” said Ash. He retreated farther into the numb shell he’d cultivated over the past few days, reciting Linnean taxonomies in his head until the hot pressure behind his eyes subsided. Order Caryophyllales, family Cactaceae, subfamily Cactoideae, tribe Pachycereeae, genus Stenocereus. Pitayas. When he tuned back in, Everest was still talking. “…bravery and selflessness left an impression on all of us. She was a remarkable young woman, one I’m proud to as my great-great-granddaughter. I wish I’d had the opportunity to know her better.” Ash swallowed hard against the pain in his throat. “Me too.” “I’ve been so focused on our future that I let misguided people seize too much control of our present. We might’ve reconnected with our far side neighbors years ago if Holly hadn’t felt so threatened by change. And Juniper’s exploitation of the anthroforming initiative, and our terranauts….” Everest’s face turned gnarled and sinister as a dead tree. “I can assure you, she’ll face consequences.” “Was anthroforming really your idea?” asked Ash. Everest sighed. “It began after my daughter and her self-styled Exiles left us, taking our precious samples with them. With that trove lost, I feared we’d have nothing to ease our transition to Mars. My only hope was to have our scientists confer as many innate advantages as possible, ensuring new

generations were more favorably disposed toward the conditions they’d have to face.” “Why’d you keep it a secret?” “Half our population had just left to protest genetic engineering of plants, Ash. The suggestion of engineering people might have fractured the survivors beyond all reconciliation.” Ash examined the floor, hiding a guilty flush. “I guess I proved you right.” “Yes and no. I’m sure some of our young people will choose Earth once they know the truth about their genes, but at least they act out of hope instead of fear.” Everest studied him. “I expect you’ll be returning with Lily and Hawthorne.” “I don’t think so,” said Ash. The notion had rattled around in his skull for days, but saying it aloud crystallized the decision. “It would be all right for me, but what about others? Barely a third of the Colonists are young enough to have the Tenax gene, and none of the Darksiders have it. The rest will never be able to call Earth home.” And it will crush them, just like it did her. Is that why she threw herself into that fight? Because she thought Earth was the only home worth having? The idea shredded his insides. I should have said something more to change her mind. “No. Rowan’s death proved that, sadly. Earth is lost to most of us.” “It’s not the only planet in the solar system,” said Ash. He took a deep breath and spoke in a determined rush. “Let me go to Mars. Better to test the new helium-3 propulsion with a single enger than a transport full of settlers. And if the terraforming has progressed as far as it looks in the satellite photos, I can start planting some of the specialized crops. I could have a full hectare ready to feed the next group when they arrive.” “I couldn’t let you go alone, Ash. Eight months in space, and even longer as the single human being on a distant world?” “Lily was the only human on Earth for fifteen years. And when others

came, she knew enough to help them adjust. I could do the same on Mars.” Ash glanced down at his hands, turning them from palms to knuckles and back. DNA is my destiny. “It’s what I was made for, isn’t it?” “Unconquered will,” Everest murmured with a sad smile. “I can’t think of anyone I’d rather have leading the effort, but it will take time to prepare everything.” “Violet and Santiago have already started retrofitting one of the GEO shuttles. If we can pull supplies together, I could launch in a few weeks.” The old man shook his wispy head. “The fastest ship in the universe won’t let you escape grief, Ash. Take it from someone who’s endured more than a century of it.” Ash looked away, toward the satellite images of Mars on the multi-screen display. “I just think we’ve all waited long enough for a real home.” Reaching out a tremulous hand, Everest clasped his arm. Gratitude shone in his green eyes, and yet they looked so much like Madurai’s that Ash couldn’t wait to escape the dim sanctum. Outside, the sterile hallway amplified each tread of his boots. Is that what it’ll sound like when I’m walking through a Martian canyon, the only living thing on a planet? Well, not technically the only living thing—there will be plants there, and I’ll grow even more. Maybe they should make a scoreboard for the most species successfully established on Mars. Habit made him turn to share the joke with Skye, but only lunarcrete stared back. The emptiness beside him mirrored the one in his chest. He pressed his forehead to the cool, rough wall. Why do I feel like this? Her voice gave him the answer, echoing in his memory so clearly it made him gasp: “Because you loved her, even if you didn’t realize it.” Oh, quark me. Fingers touched his shoulder. His eyes snapped open, hopeful, but looked

into a matching pair. Matching, except for the protective extra lid blinking concernedly at him. “What did Everest say?” asked Thorn. “I can go to Mars.” “Well, turn around and tell him to let some other self-sacrificing craterbrain scout the new Colony. You’re coming to Earth with me.” “I can’t go back, Thorn.” “Why?” Because the only time I ever really saw that planet was through her eyes. So if I go back, she’s all I’ll ever see. “It’s Skye, isn’t it?” Every time a raindrop lands on my skin, I’ll hear her splashing through the puddles. Every morning the clouds turn pink, I’ll see those blue eyes reflecting the sunrise at Goldstone. “I’m sorry she’s gone. But she wouldn’t want you to waste the rest of your life in a vacuum.” No. She’d tease me about being a martyr. But I’m not the one who ended up a dead hero, am I? “She wanted people to have a shot at life on Earth. You could help make that come true for her.” And see her ghost in every damn leaf and pebble for the rest of my life, reminding me that she should be the one thriving on that planet instead of me. “Ash, you’re not in orbit yet. Talk to me.” Thorn shook him. “Tell me you’re coming back.” “I can’t,” Ash whispered. Thorn exhaled a slow, uneasy breath. “Then let me come with you. It takes

almost a year to reach Mars—you can’t do that trip by yourself. And you’ll need more than just the terraforming bots to help you make the place livable.” He glared around at the lunarcrete tunnel, blinking his secondary eyelids. Is that what I’d have looked like as an Earthling? I wonder what she’d have looked like. “You don’t want to go to Mars, Thorn. You never really did. You were happy to train the next crop of weeds and do your bit to make the Colony a better place to live. Earth will need people like you, who work hard and keep up spirits. You’d be wasted on a planet alone with me.” Ash fought for a smile. “I don’t even laugh at your jokes half the time.” “Then I promise to learn some new ones while you’re gone,” said Thorn after a strained pause. “If you promise to come back and hear them all.” Ash’s throat closed over his reply, and he pulled his twin into a tight hug. “You know, I always thought you needed me to look out for you and keep you moving forward,” Thorn murmured into his shoulder. “But maybe I’ve had it backward all these years.” When they finally broke apart, it seemed to snap some tiny but critical bone in Ash’s chest. I’m the Exile now.

⁂

Ping. Ping. Ping. Raindrops speckled the leaves of a magnificent elm. Ash leaned his head against the damp bark, breathing in the verdant scent of wood. No mask stifled his senses, no armor stiffened his limbs.

Ping. Ping. Ping. Crystalline beads sifted through the canopy and landed on his arm in a perfect triangle, three tiny worlds contained within the fragile tension of their own molecular skin. A pale finger reached out and blended the droplets—the touch sent nervous joy rippling down Ash’s spine. Eyes the color of oceans and many times deeper peered into his. Words parted her crooked smile, but Ash couldn’t hear them. He leaned closer, straining for the lost message. Ping. Ping. Ping. The alert roused him at last. Skye’s face dissolved into the familiar contours of the instrument , upside-down from Ash’s position adrift in a corner of the cockpit. He scrubbed at his eyes, wishing he could scour the memories from inside his skull. Fifty million kilometers and I still can’t escape the ghosts. Kicking over to the controls, he didn’t need to read the notification that had woken him: its import filled the shuttle’s front window with mottled red vastness. “So that’s home,” Ash murmured to the planet outside. No surge of excitement or triumph swept through him, only weary satisfaction. He sent a quick dispatch to Luna confirming his arrival and skimmed through the received transmissions. Everest had sent a note assuring him the construction of settlement ships was underway, and the comm system had picked up more fragmented signals on odd frequency bands. A distorted voice chirped through a haze of static: “Due…Luna…fear.” Probably some engineers worried about the build schedule on those transports. I need to get on the ground and send them some new images, some new hope. Programming coordinates for the old research station, Ash strapped in and initiated descent. A tremor ran through the shuttle when it penetrated the thin Martian atmosphere. Electrostatic dust clung to the hull, obscuring Ash’s view of the surface in a carmine haze. He turned to the instruments for navigation, but the readings twitched and fizzled on the display.

That dust must be interfering with my sensors, too! This was not part of the plan. Skye’s laughter echoed in his memory: “Nothing about this has gone exactly as planned.” If it had, she’d be sitting next to me right now instead of co-piloting in my head. Ash tried to see the numbers as she would have, interpreting their shifts and guiding his craft within the erratic calculations. Radar steered him between topographical formations he couldn’t see. His altitude dropped haltingly. Gforce pressing him into the seat eased as the velocity decreased. Just a little lower and— Impact threw him sideways. Torn metal screamed and the shuttle veered. Ash hauled on the yoke, struggling to regain control. The vessel’s belly scraped against the ground. Jolts rattled Ash’s bones so hard that he bit his tongue. Sour copper flooded his mouth. Rock clattered under the hull, deafening him. More dust clouded the windshield. Through the sensory daze, his fingers found the throttle and yanked it back. The skid slowed to a shudder, then stopped. Silence filled the cockpit, broken by deep, ragged gasps. At least I’m still breathing. Ash peeled his hands from the controls, then spat blood onto his sleeve. Numb fingers fumbled with his harness and he stood. No serious pain revealed itself, only the dull ache of gravity, strange in his muscles after almost a year in space. “Guess I’m all right. How about you?” he asked the shuttle. Failure reports lit up the screen in reply. A tap of the display brought up environmental analysis from outside, and Ash scowled at the ratio of carbon dioxide to nitrogen. Atmosphere isn’t fully breathable yet. I’ll have to suit up to check the damage. He moved to the back compartment and donned his gear. “You’re the first person to set foot on this planet since before Sporespread,” he told himself.

Saying it aloud made it a little more believable. A flicker of the nervous energy he’d felt before Earth dives stirred in him as the airlock hissed open. Taking a deep breath of metallic tank air, Ash took his first step onto Mars. An unforgiving panorama surrounded him. Rusty terrain stretched to a horizon of jagged mountains that clawed into the ochre sky. No hint of green relieved his eye. Nothing moved but the dust whirls spinning weird dances across the plain. This isn’t what it looked like on the satellite photos. Where’s the plant life, the progress? His shuttle lay on an alluvial plain, one wing sheared away from ing too closely through the now-distant formations. A strangely shaped rock lay a short distance from the intact wing, knocked aside by the crash. Ash walked over and wiped the grit from its surface. His mouth turned as dry as the sand beneath his boots. Beneath decades of dust lay an old automated cultivator, gears ossified, desiccated as a dead insect. The brush of his glove revealed the odd triangular emblem he’d seen on the Darksiders’ scavenged ship parts. This time he could just read the two faded words beneath: Everest Enterprises. “The terraforming failed!” Ash turned in a dizzy circle, taking in his broken ship, the harsh red landscape, the impossible truth that turned to vapor on his mask when he spoke. “Mars is still as dead as Luna. Everest lied to us.”

VI. Right Ascension

1

Luna

The space elevator rattled toward Malapert Mountain, sending tremors into Ash’s bones. “Don’t fall apart on me now,” he murmured, half to the decrepit transport and half to himself. Slapping his hand over a loose bolt in the window frame, he laid his forehead against the cool silica glass and watched Luna’s dead grey surface approach. Two years and not a damn thing different. Far in the distance, the worn domes of Shackleton Crater Colony cringed beside a dark tear in the landscape. Glittering solar s on its rim sent shudders down Ash’s back. Images taunted his imagination again—a figure splayed four kilometers down, pale hair stiff with rime inside a shattered helmet, features once alive with schemes and laughter fixed in a permanent scream. Turning away from the window and the pain, Ash returned to the cramped control room and attempted a final hail on the comm system. His voice rasped in his throat, no longer accustomed to speech. “Base station, are you receiving?” The same static he’d heard for days fizzed back in reply. No one manning the orbit station, no reply from the base station…I was the only person on Mars. I can’t be the only person on Luna, too! Dread gnawed his insides and by the time the cabin completed descent, every click of the docking mechanism seemed to echo in his empty chest cavity. Will anyone even me? He scowled at the lean, dark-haired youth staring back from the porthole reflection with troubled eyes. I hardly even me.

Ash placed his palm against the sensor pad beside the hatch. It flared emerald, confirming authorization, and creaked open. Taking a deep breath, he stepped into the station. Low gravity tugged strangely against his muscles after months in space. No sound greeted him except the echo of his own footsteps on lunarcrete. It’s completely deserted! What in the— An ultrasonic whine stung his molars and instinct froze him to the spot. “Turn around slowly,” said a hard, high voice behind him. Ash pivoted, hands raised. A girl in a black security uniform glared at him down a Hummingbird’s barrel. Her brown eyes flew wide with recognition. “Ash?” “Hazel?” Ash blinked hard at her. Cheekbones had emerged from the round face, accentuating its stubborn aspect. The short, wild hair now lay flat as though pressed too often beneath a helmet. She’s sixteen now. Of course she’s different than when she was a weed. “Halley smokes, it is you!” Hazel squealed. Lowering the weapon, she flung her arms around Ash’s neck. He hugged back, her exuberance leavening his gloom. Maybe not that different. “I heard your hails from the orbit station, but I thought it must be a glitch, replaying old comms,” said Hazel. “What are you doing here? We just got your latest transmission from Mars a few weeks ago!” “What transmission?” “The updates you send every few months. Everest holds special assemblies and shows the images to everyone. People cry with joy when they see pictures of the refurbished research habitats and the seedlings and….” She trailed off and frowned at Ash’s expression. “What?” “I never sent anything like that,” said Ash, seething. “I couldn’t have. Mars is a red version of Luna—cold, dead rocks. The terraforming effort failed decades ago.”

Hazel’s mouth fell open. “So he’s been faking your messages?” She launched a barrage of expletives, old favorites that made Ash smile and a few new ones that made him blush. “But why would he lie about it all? Since you left, he’s put everything the Shack’s got into a Mars launch. Building settler transports, stockpiling resources—he even shut down the dive program. Pulled back the whole crew from GEO and keeps one of us stationed out here to make sure nobody gives up and runs for Earth.” “One of us?” Ash took in her armored uniform with nagging discomfort. “You ed the security division?” “Not exactly ed. Everest converted all the terranauts into a new auxiliary guard force, but there still aren’t enough of us to protect the Shack, the shipyard, the helium-3 deposits, the Vator….” “Protect them against what?” An uneasy look flickered in Hazel’s eyes. “A lot’s changed since you’ve been gone, Ash.” “It’ll change a lot more when I get back to the Shack and make Everest tell everyone the truth. Can you get me a ride?” “Sure. I’d be glad for an excuse to bail. We rotate out with the day-night cycle, and being marooned alone out here for two weeks gets really Goddard-damned lonely.” Hazel shot Ash an apologetic glance. “Guess I don’t need to tell you that. My rover’s in the docking bay. Go start her up. I’ll be there in a minute—just need to log off my systems.” She bounded into the shadowy hallway while Ash crossed the main area and climbed into the rover. Memories flooded back with the smell of recycled air and old plastic: “Don’t quit on me now. We’re almost there. Just a little farther, come on….” I still don’t know if she was talking to me or the rover. Lights on the control flashed like quizzical blue eyes. “You're staring at me again….” …Because I didn’t know how to tell her what I’d learned about her past. Or

that I didn’t care. Ash clenched his teeth against the now-familiar throb. “Scoot over. I’m driving,” said Hazel, tumbling into the pilot’s seat. She tuned the instrument , muttering, then laughed at herself. “I don’t need to talk to the machinery now there’s another person around.” “Don’t you exchange transmissions with the Tenax here?” asked Ash. “Thorn told me he was going to establish comms when he got back to Earth. Do you ever hear from him?” The docking bay yawned open and Hazel drove onto the regolith. “Occasionally.” “How are Lily and the others?” “Still surviving.” Her curt, opaque answers seemed off-kilter with the lively personality Ash ed. Maybe she still misses Thorn. Or maybe she’s angry at being grounded on Luna while the others live on Earth. Or maybe I’ve just forgotten how people are. I never understood them all that well to begin with. What did she call it, human telemetry? Without her, I can’t read anyone’s signals. Glum, he turned to the window just as the rover’s headlights swept over the station wall, briefly illuminating a symbol scratched into its dull surface. “What’s that?” And why does it look familiar? “I didn’t see anything,” said Hazel flatly, her gaze fixed on the windshield. “You’ve been in space too long, Ash. You’re seeing constellations everywhere.” Ash twisted in his seat for a better look, but the station had already dissolved behind them. Polar topography scrolled past unchanged until a strange formation loomed in the foreground. It took Ash a few minutes of staring to recognize the sturdy shuttles that had once ferried engers between the orbit stations, stripped and fused into a single massive vehicle

with an accretion of pipes and s. “Is this a spacecraft?” Mars isn’t habitable—where is Everest planning to send them? “Supposed to be.” Hazel steered the rover carefully around piles of parts littering the area. “My mom and her engineering crew hardly work on anything else, but parts are scarce. We source all the fuel and a lot of raw metals from Mare Ingenii.” “So the truce with the Darksiders held?” “Yeah. They all moved into the Colony shortly after you left.” She skirted the shadows beneath the unfinished craft, gnawing her lip. “What is it?” “Nothing.” Something pinged off the top of the rover and one of the dashboard screens went dark. “Goddard damn it all, I knew they’d find us,” Hazel hissed. “Who?” “Hang on.” She threw the throttle and the rover lurched forward, bouncing over rocks. Ash’s harness bit into his shoulders. He glanced at the window but saw only a dizzy monochromatic blur. Hazel swung the rover wildly around, panic lights painting her bared teeth red. “You wanna play tag, you Spore-sucking scum?” She punched a button on the control and a visor telescoped down from the roof. “What is that?” asked Ash. The device gleamed ostentatiously bright in the shabby old rover. “Payback.” Hazel squinted through the optical piece and squeezed a lever on the side. A red beam blazed across the landscape beyond the windshield. “Since when do our rovers have laser turrets?” Ash yelped, shielding his eyes from the unexpected glare.

“They’ve all been retrofitted. Gotta defend ourselves.” “Against what?” Another hit canted the rover on its axles. Hazel hauled on the yoke, averting a deadly spin, but the back half of the vehicle lurched into a ravine. The world jerked to a halt. Blood pounded in Ash’s veins. Hazel shrugged off her harness and climbed to the back of the rover. “Suit up now or we’re quarked,” she ordered as the suitport closed behind her. Ash slid into the second suit, took a quick breath to ensure airflow through the helmet, and detached. Hazel snatched a weapon from a rack mounted on the vehicle’s flank and Ash recognized it with a jolt. It’s just like the laser gun Holly had at the crater that day! “Stop daydreaming and hurry up!” The tinny commlink amplified the fear in Hazel’s tone. Space-weakened legs screaming, Ash bounded after her. “Do you think we can make it all the way to the Shack on foot?” “No,” she said, staring past him. A figure stood on the ridge less than a hundred meters away. Ash blinked hard. Probably a shadow or a weird rock formation, like all the people I imagined on Mars. But the distant shape persisted. Dread prickled his spine. “Who’s that?” “The reason the Shack doesn’t have enough security guards.” Hazel braced the gun against her shoulder and fired a fine ruby beam. A brilliant blue thread responded, melting the pebbles in front of Ash’s boots. “Dammit. They’ve got the high ground—they’ll just pick us off if we run.” Cursing, Hazel tossed the rifle down and raised her hands. Hazel, surrender? That’s not like her at all! Who could possibly scare her that much? “Will you please tell me what in the galaxy is going on?” said Ash through

his teeth. Hazel shook her head. “They might have tapped our comm frequency already. Just go along and everything will be okay.” The earpiece whined as she cut the voice connection. Isolated in the private universes of their suits, they stood side by side as the sniper approached. No facial features showed behind the tinted helmet. They slapped a leak repair patch over Ash’s faceplate, blocking his vision, and bound his wrists behind his back. A sharp muzzle prodded him between the shoulder blades. He stumbled forward, losing count of his steps when they reached the hundreds. Blindness increased the sense of distance. How far have we gone? We could walk for days before these suits gave out, but where would that leave us? At last hands lifted Ash onto a shivering metal platform. Some kind of vehicle. A rover, maybe, or a cargo hauler. Shifting position, he probed the area around him and coldness seeped through his veins. Hazel was gone. Did they kill her? Take her somewhere else? None of this makes any sense! The only certainties were the shudder of an engine beneath him and the rasp of nervous breath in his helmet. Eventually the first one stopped. Someone helped him down. The terrain had changed: instead of soft regolith, his boots now fell on stone. Ash’s suit seals popped. Panic burst through his mind—They dragged me all this way for space exposure?—but instead of a vacuum his lungs drew air. Tastes like minerals. Stone. Almost like…lava tunnels? But we can’t be on the dark side! We didn’t go far enough. “Hazel?” he asked, the helmet muffling his voice. No one replied, but the sound of breathing identified other people nearby. Ash counted the rhythms, trying to determine how many captors he’d have to overcome. Female voices, low and distorted by echoes, murmured a short distance away: “—should have asked me first.”

“I couldn’t. You were gone on your latest rescue mission. I cleared it with your lieutenant.” “As if he has unbiased judgment on this point.” The speaker’s familiar cadence teased Ash’s ears. “Well, I happen to agree with him,” the higher voice retorted. “This might get everyone to us!” “Or destroy us. If Everest comes after us for kidnapping the Colony’s favorite son….” “Everest doesn’t want me back after what I saw,” Ash called, the adrenaline of the past few hours finally overflowing. “If you’re working against him, we’re allies.” The conversation stilled and soft footsteps approached. “But we never quite made the poster, did we?” murmured a chilly voice close to his face. Scattered lights dazzled Ash’s vision as his helmet lifted away. He blinked hard and a pair of eyes faded slowly into focus. Blue eyes, the deep hypnotic hue of a gemstone he’d once found on Earth and just as hard. All his breath vanished in a single syllable, a name unspoken but unforgotten in two years of solitude. “Skye?”

2

Resistance

Skye! It can’t be…I must be hallucinating. But the utility knife that pricked his ribs was real enough to draw a gasp from his startled lungs. Ash gaped at the figure wielding it. White-blond hair, much shorter than he ed, curled wild around her ears and jawline. Maturity had sharpened her pale features, accentuating the avian quickness of her expressions. Indigo eyes bored through him. A little older, a little warier, but unmistakably Skye. She’s alive! His fingers ached to reach out and confirm her reality, but paralysis gripped his every cell. Thick silence filled the cave. “You’re taller than me now,” said Skye begrudgingly, echoing their first conversation in Luna’s brig. Fifty million kilometers’ worth of imagined conversations converged on Ash’s tongue, choking him. At last speech trickled out: “Probably just the space travel. Prolonged microgravity decompresses the vertebrae.” Crater-brain! All those things you wished you could tell her and that’s the best you can do? “Well, that justified the entire trip,” said Skye, dripping sarcasm. “I hope you didn’t come all the way back just for the novelty of looking down at me.” “How could I? I thought you were—” Ash swallowed the last word, afraid that saying it aloud might make it true. “I saw you fall into Shackleton Crater!” “And didn’t stay to see if I came up again.” She sheathed her knife and Ash frowned at the stiffness in her fingers, which had once danced over

keyboards and woven electronic arrays from fragile wire. “Luckily some of the old crew stuck around,” said Hazel from the shadows a few yards away. She wore no restraints and a satisfied smile. Ash gaped at her. “You brought me here, you…you knew!” The girls exchanged smirks that jabbed him worse than the knife. “Why didn’t you tell me?” “I didn’t know if we could still trust you.” Hazel gave an apologetic shrug. “So I made a call while you were in the rover and arranged to kidnap you. Sorry for the rough ride.” “That was mostly my fault,” came a voice from the airlock. Thorn strode out, a laser rifle strapped across his back. Dark hair hung almost to his shoulders, framing a small bandage and a broad grin. Hazel rounded on him, hands on hips. “Did you have to shoot at my wheels, crater-brain? That spin wasn’t fake—the rover almost flipped.” “I was aiming for the bumpers! The Hornet’s sight is probably misaligned again. Maybe while you’re here you can recalibrate it.” “Don’t blame my gun because you’re a lousy shot.” “Lousy shot? You’re talking to a top Hunter here, weed.” “Oh, is there a rebel scoreboard now?” “Yep. And you’re right at the top.” Thorn planted a swift, sneaky kiss on Hazel’s cheek. “This guy, however, has a lot of catching up to do!” Cackling, he pulled Ash into a hug. “What are you doing here?” Ash clutched at his twin, the solid weight holding him up as his knees quaked. “I thought you went back to Earth!” Thorn shook his head. “You’re the only person to leave Luna in two years.” “And we didn’t expect you to come back,” said Skye.

“I didn’t think there was anything to come back to,” he murmured, and her look froze him so completely that when Thorn clapped him on the back it seemed to shatter him right down to the core. “Just wait until you see who else is here,” said Thorn. “Where’s here?” “Lava tubes halfway between the South Pole and Mare—” “Don’t tell him things like that,” Skye snapped. “Why not just send Everest a map of our hideouts?” “You think I’m telling Everest anything after how he used us?” said Ash. Thorn narrowed his double-lidded eyes. “What do you mean?” Taking a deep breath, Ash told them. Arid plains devoid of the promised flora, a non-existent atmosphere, defunct terraforming bots covered in decades of red dust…he barely heard his own descriptions, studying the effect of every word on Skye’s face. If I’d known Mars was dead and she was alive…. No one spoke for a long moment after he’d finished, then Thorn broke the silence with a quiet expletive. “So the grand future we’ve spent generations working and dying for—” “Is a failure,” Ash finished flatly. “The only reason people in the Shack still follow Everest is because he shows them all your supposed progress on Mars,” Hazel told him, dark excitement gleaming in her eyes. “If they find out he lied, all his ers might come to our side.” Our side? Ash’s mind finally compiled all the little clues and he forced himself to meet Skye’s gaze. “Did you start some kind of resistance?” “You told me once I’d be good at it.” A muscle twitched in her cheek, a ripple of the old mischievous half-smile, and for an instant she transformed

back into the sunburnt girl standing outside the de-con pods while Ash struggled for a goodbye: “You made a pretty good terranaut. I bet you’ll make a pretty good rebel leader, too.” Thorn chuckled. “Well, he was right.” “Having a good team helps,” said Skye, grinning at him. “Even if we are still outnumbered.” “That reminds me—Ash isn’t the only reason I needed to talk to you right away.” Hazel turned briskly to Skye. “The convoy stopped at the base station yesterday. They’ll be almost to Mare Ingenii by now.” “But the day cycle doesn’t turn for another week! They never travel in the dark on the far side.” “I think your last raid spooked them, so they changed their schedule to throw you off.” “It’ll take more than that.” Pale eyebrows set in a determined line, Skye marched into the adjacent tunnel. Ash followed her into a wide, lowceilinged cavern filled with a deafening hum. Hands clamped instinctively over his ears before his mind processed the sound. Voices. More voices than I’ve heard in years…good Goddard, what are they all doing here? Lanterns cast their sterile glow at intervals, throwing long shadows from an unlikely assortment of familiar figures. Ryll sat on a cot a few meters from where he stood, looking strange in a standard-issue jumpsuit instead of her leather garments. A medic bent over her, and the diagnostic scanner’s screen illuminated Sydney’s face. On the cave’s far side, Xy worked methodically on a narrow, segmented vehicle. Others Ash recognized— Tenax, Colonist, and Darksider—moved through the scattered pools of light. Tiny bolts of joy and surprise skittered through his nerves. “And you thought you had no friends left on Luna,” said Thorn, entering behind him. He called over his shoulder: “Come on, Hazel, you almost never get to visit us here!” Her stubborn reply came muffled from the antechamber. “I told you, no. They don’t want to talk to me.”

“That’s not true….” Skye spoke to Ryll in low, quick tones, her hands flashing in the dimness like moth wings. The pervasive drone of portable atmospheric generators obscured their conversation. Ash moved closer to hear. “…know I just got you out of there, but this is our best shot at rescuing the others. Can you draw us a map of the new mining shafts?” asked Skye. “Better than that. I’ll come with you,” Ryll told her. “You’ll need all the help you can get for an operation like this.” “The only operation you’re fit for will happen on that table.” Sydney jerked a thumb at the tiny, brightly lit niche behind him—the glint of equipment inside suggested an improvised surgery suite. “Your tumor needs to be removed, preferably today.” “I’m not going to lie around while my family is still locked away!” At her words, Ash ed the missing faces in the assembly. None of the kids are here. Where’s Ced, and Phlox, and Gin? Lu’an? Lily? “Where are they?” he asked, approaching the cot. “Maybe I can help.” “Ash!” Ryll blinked her double eyelids. “What are you doing here?” “I could ask you the same thing. What brought you back to Luna?” “Ask your friend Hazel,” said Ryll, fingers tightening around the edge of the bed. “She was the first one out of the quads, making us all think it was safe to run over unarmed. She held a Hummingbird to my son’s head so the rest of us would cooperate.” “If I hadn’t, someone else would have, and they’d have pulled the trigger,” said Hazel. She stood just inside the door, arms folded tightly across her chest. “The divers were as terrified as you were—Everest said he’d punish our families if we didn’t cooperate.” “I see. Your family is more important than mine.” Scowling, Ryll rose and stalked away into one of the shadowed ages.

Hazel’s fingers dug into her ribs. “I told you they didn’t want to talk to me,” she muttered to Thorn. “How many times do I have to tell you it wasn’t your fault?” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Everest would’ve just made you a prisoner, too, and then we’d have no one in the Shack to help us.” “Everest ordered this?” asked Ash. The knot of fury, writhing in the pit of his stomach since Mars, tightened. “I told you he militarized the terranauts. The first thing he made us do was capture all the Tenax to work in the maria, mining helium-3 and metals for his stupid Mars ship,” said Hazel in a hollow voice. “We’ve spent more than a year raiding the Sanctuary to free them,” said Skye. “But how can they even be on Luna without exhaling Spores everywhere?” “That anti-fungal serum Juniper tested on Lily and me.” Thorn rapped knuckles on his chest. “We’re all as pure as Madurai herself.” “And it’s killing you,” Sydney fumed. When Ash frowned, he added impatiently, “Aspergillus produces a toxin that affects the p53 gene.” “Which suppresses tumors. I .” “Right. I think that the aspergilloma symbionts regulated those processes somehow, and without them, the Tenax’s bodies are going haywire, producing cancerous cells like crazy. It’s worst in the adults—the effect seems more pronounced the longer you’ve had a symbiont—but I’ve removed lesions or tumors from every one of them here.” Ash glanced at the bandage on Thorn’s neck. His brother shrugged, although his smile betrayed a hint of anxiety. “Hey, I’m lucky—newest to Earth, so fewest problems leaving her. I can still get around okay, but most of the others are too sick to do much.” “And there’s not much I can do for them,” said Sydney, glancing across the cave at Xy. “Unless they get back to Earth soon and restore their symbionts, the whole tribe will end up like Jas and Kory.”

They’re dead? Ash struggled to recall their faces—the quiet huntress and the cheerfully bumbling boy he’d known briefly as a terramaut—and the vague images sent a pang of sorrow through his chest. “Maybe this will help,” said Hazel. Pulling a data chip from a pocket of her jumpsuit, she handed it to Sydney. “Lu’an stole Juniper’s latest research on the kids.” “I thought she’d come with you this time,” said Sydney heavily. “Did she at least send a message?” Hazel shook her head. “I didn’t talk to her. She smuggles this stuff through my mom. No one sees much of her or Juniper outside the lab these days. But I’m sure she’ll come soon.” “That’s what she told me when I left a year ago.” Sydney took the chip and turned away, scrubbing a cuff across his nose. “I’ll see what I can do, but the only real cure is getting them back to Earth.” “Then we need to move now and get the last group before that convoy leaves,” said Skye. “What’s so important about this convoy?” asked Ash. “Usually the Tenax are spread all over Mare Ingenii—harvesting regolith on the surface or mining ore in the tubes,” Hazel explained. “But every few months the Colony sends a convoy to haul raw materials back to the Shack, and all the prisoners are herded back together to load the transports. It’s our best shot at rescuing more than just one or two at a time.” “And since it’s Hazel’s shift on the base station, we have a chance to get everyone up in the Vator before Everest can stop us,” said Skye. She turned to Thorn. “Drive her back and help prep for ascent. I’ll head out to the Sanctuary.” “You can’t go alone. If anything happens, we’re quarked—you’re the only one who knows how to hack the Vator’s security authorizations and send that cabin into orbit. Wait until I get back.” Skye shook her head. “That’ll take hours, and we’re already behind.

Besides, I won’t be alone—the recon team is already there.” “You’ll still be one fighter down.” “We’re used to being outnumbered. We’ll manage.” The words rang with confidence, but the set of Skye’s chin betrayed uncertainty. A shiver ran up Ash’s spine. I’m not losing her to another dark, frozen hole! “I’ll go with you.” Skye shot him a cold look. “Last time you said something like that, you took off for Mars alone.” Guilt twisted Ash’s insides, but he met her gaze without flinching. “And that might be your best weapon. If the promise of Mars really is the only thing keeping people loyal to Everest, a few of them might change their minds when they hear where I’ve been.” “The silent hero is going to talk us to victory?” Skye’s laughter cascaded off the stone. Turning her back on him, she stalked over the vehicle. “Xy, is the tunnel crawler ready to go?” Misery weighed heavier than gravity, holding Ash to the spot. He stared helplessly after Skye. She’s alive…and I’m dead to her. Thorn laid a hand on his shoulder. “You really didn’t know about her, did you?” “How could I? The only communication I had was through Everest, and we’ve seen how reliable he is. I don’t understand why she’s being so….” Prickly. Like a Goddard-damned pitaya. Maybe she picked up some transgenes when I gave her that fruit years ago. “Probably the same reason she sometimes goes days without looking me in the face,” said Thorn in the low, patient tone Ash had often heard their mother use on her more obtuse students. “You’re not the only one who just saw a ghost.” Skye bent to examine the vehicle’s controls and a small object slipped from the collar of her jumpsuit, a bright piece of metal on a cord around her

neck. It refracted lantern light and cast a serpentine shadow on the wall— three planetary symbols entwined, shivering on the stone. The syzygy medal I gave her. A distant, hopeful star winked at the edge of Ash’s mind. Skye caught his stare and her fierce look dared him to speak. “I—I saw that drawn on the wall of the base station,” he stammered. Hazel and Thorn exchanged guilty grins. “We thought Everest might pull guards from the maria and reassign them to the pole if he thought rebels were lurking that close to the Shack,” said Hazel. “It’s our emblem, see?” Flipping his hand, Thorn showed Ash the symbol inked inside his left wrist, the clean linear style he’d used to decorate his mask strap years ago. He nodded at Xy, who rolled back his sleeve to display an identical glyph on his own heavily decorated arm. “I taught him the technique and now he’s better at it than I am.” Xy fingered the tattoo with a smile. “It’s a good reminder to stay strong. He’s done them for a lot of us.” “Not me, no matter how many times I ask,” said Hazel, poking out her tongue at Thorn. “You’re risking enough without a rebel brand,” he told her. “Then put it somewhere no one will see it.” Thorn turned faintly pink. “I’ll put it wherever you want, but not until this is all over.” “When this is over we’ll be on different worlds, and I’ll want it to you.” “Not if I stay.” Hazel made an exasperated sound. “We’re not having this argument again, Thorn!”

Their bickering faded from Ash’s awareness as his gaze returned to Skye. “Is this what you came back for?" she asked. Twirling the pendant by its cord, she sent it sailing across the cavern and Ash caught it. Warmth from her skin still infused the metal. “No. I came back because this is a lie." He covered the lines representing Mars. “And I’ve been part of it for too long. Our parents started this—now we have a chance to finish it.” Skye folded her arms. “How do I know this isn’t just part of the plan? That Everest didn’t send you to infiltrate our group?” The accusation stung, but Ash pushed aside the hurt. “I guess you’ll just have to trust me, the way I trusted you when we met.” He walked up to her and held out the medal, heart pounding so loud in his ears that he could scarcely hear the quoted words as he spoke. “What will you choose, hero?”

3

Rescue

The tunnel crawler’s headlight punched a bright hole in the lava tube ahead, illuminating a junction with a syzygy sign crudely chiseled on one side of the fork. Its metal counterpart pressed into Skye’s skin as she spoke over her shoulder. “We go the rest of the way on foot. Any closer and they might hear us.” She steered the vehicle into a side age and reluctantly cut power. Machine noise had precluded conversation for the last few hours. Now the sudden silence magnified every detail of Ash’s presence: the rustle of the borrowed insulation suit as he swung down from the seat, his breath through the oxygen mask, the shine of his eyes stealing glances at her in the flashlight glow. Merciful Mother, why did he have to come back just when I was getting used to him being gone? “How far is it?” he asked. “Far enough for you to get familiar with this.” She tossed him a rifle. Ash handled it with hesitant fingers. “Hornets, huh?” “Thorn named it after some Earth insect. He said the laser reminded him of a stinger.” “That’s not all it reminds me of. It’s like the gun Chief Holly had, the day that….” He broke off, looking wary. “The Colony’s are all built from her recovered prototype, but Hazel improved on it for us.” Skye slung the Hornet over her back. The familiar shape against her spine felt less reassuring than usual. “Holly gave me weapons for the war she was afraid I would start.” Plaintive brown eyes slid to her face again. “How did you survive to start it

at all?” “Because of this.” Skye brushed a hand along the rough wall as she walked. The tunnel before her opened into a black maw of memory, and the stone steadied her against the ed sensation of falling….

…falling through frigid darkness again, but no stars to judge me this time, only the faint corona of light above me, encircling all the things I’ll never see again. Surface. Sunlight. Ash. Fire ignites in my shoulder and I jerk to a halt—my handcuffs are caught on an outcrop, dangling me over the crater’s mouth. It won’t hold my weight for long. Teeth clenched, I haul myself onto a slim ledge. My right glove tears open on the jagged rock. Oxygen spews out into the vacuum. I clench it quickly shut, holding my suit’s integrity and my life in my own hand. A black fissure stripes the crater wall beside me. Just a fracture in the moon’s crust? Or something deeper? Please, Mother, let my headlamp still work….

“There are lava tubes in the crater?” Ash asked, drawing her mind back from the dark. Skye nodded. “I crawled into a crevasse that turned out to be a tunnel. Maybe the first lunar miners carved it as a shortcut, or maybe it’s a natural feature no one ever bothered to explore. I put my air tank in conservation mode and walked.” Every footstep rang out a reenactment….

…One step, then another. Ice crystals glitter on my gloves, but my fingers burn inside. My swollen shoulder chafes under the suit. No future but the point where my headlamp dissolves, no past but the thinning air I exhale. My hand is clutching a comet, frigid searing pain. Where does this tunnel end? One step, then another, then a thousand more like the thousand before….

“I don’t know how long I walked, but Thorn told me those Colony suits will keep you alive for days,” said Skye, shivering. “I don’t much between crawling into the tunnel and hearing that.” She paused, letting the familiar scream of atoms in the helium-3 reactor speak for itself. Recognition lit Ash’s eyes. “You fell into Shackleton Crater and walked all the way to the Fringe? Halley smokes, you must’ve been in bad shape.” “Almost as bad as you were the first time I brought you here.” A turn of her head illuminated the small, foil-covered hole in the wall. I took care of you then. But when I was hurt and needed help, you weren’t there. Ash stopped. “That was your hideout.” “Still is,” said a girl’s muffled voice. The curtain peeled back and a hand beckoned. “Get in here before you freeze.” Skye ducked inside and pulled down her mask. Warmth caressed her chilled face. The familiar contours of the tiny chamber held nearly a decade’s worth of memory: gnawing a spirulina bar in the dark as she shivered herself to sleep; stealing a portable atmo unit from the Sanctuary’s stores part by part and assembling it alone, savage triumph surging through her with the first sigh of generated nitrogen; and a different kind of sigh, the soft, unsettled sounds Ash made in his sleep on a cave floor so small that no matter how they arranged themselves, some corner of their sleeping bags would always touch. We went from cramped together in here to millions of klicks apart. Now, somehow, we’ve managed both simultaneously. Skye scrubbed at her numb cheeks. And I thought I understood physics. “Thank Goddard you’re here,” said Chiba, scooting back to share what little room remained. Lantern light painted copper helixes in her curls. “The convoy arrived a few hours ago. We weren’t expecting it so soon!” “I know. That’s why we’re here.” “We?” Chiba’s hands flew to her mouth as Ash squeezed inside.

“Ash!” Linden stopped cleaning the Hornet balanced on his knee and stood to greet them, ducking his head to avoid the low ceiling. “Is Mars prepped for settlers already?” “Not exactly.” Ash glanced between the pair. “You’re fighters, too?” “Only when we have to be,” said Linden. “Mostly we break the mining equipment and sneak out one or two of the Tenax when we can—Chiba’s an expert on this tunnel system.” “Florence used to try to scare me, saying that the Fringe went all the way to the Colony.” Chiba twisted a lock of hair around her finger and frowned at it. “I wish I could tell her she was right, just to see her face.” “You will,” said Linden, squeezing her hand. She shook her head. “Nothing’s going to break her dedication to Madurai.” “Don’t count on it. I followed someone that loyally once, but then she tried to expose me to Spores.” Linden cast a dark, commiserating look at Ash. “It could’ve been me blinking dirt from my extra eyelids while I hack aluminum compounds out of the maria. So this is my team now. Luckily Skye’s a way better captain than Willow ever was.” “I’m no captain. More a coordinator, like Rowan,” said Skye with a sad smile. “You can all handle yourselves.” “Yeah, I trained my weeds pretty good, huh?” Linden tossed his gun to Chiba, who caught it smartly. “Speaking of which, where’s Dakar?” “Checking out the convoy activity. We’ll get him and decide if this rescue is a go. Wait here and thaw out your trigger fingers.” “A little late for that,” said Skye, bending her stiff right index a few times as her teammates ducked out of the chamber. The generator’s wheezing swelled in the silence. “What happened to your hand?” Ash asked after a minute.

“Frostbite, from the long walk in the tunnel. It’s still a little dead, even though Jeddah did everything she could. It’s not easy treating someone in secret.” She speared him with a glance, but his wince brought her little satisfaction. “She thought the truce had backfired and I’d escaped a Colony attack. It was a few weeks before I was strong enough to convince her otherwise and go back to the Shack….”

“Merciful Mother, you’re alive!” Madurai glides forward and embraces me, the wide sleeves of her blue and green patchwork caftan flapping around me. I flinch when she touches my reset shoulder. “We thought you died in the crater!” “You of all people know it takes more than falling into a hole in the moon to get rid of me.” I pull back and scrutinize her face. Pyres had said she was mad, but she seems normal enough. Except for the smiling. Since when does she smile? Everest dismisses the officer who escorted me in and pats my hand. The parallax of his green eyes and Madurai’s unnerves me almost as much as their sudden rapport. “Resiliency is one of our family’s more desirable traits, but an accident like that…we were certain we’d lost you along with Holly.” So she’s dead, then. A pang ripples through me—Guilt? Satisfaction? Relief? —but I shake it away. “Are the others all right? Where’s Ash? Can I see him?” The old man’s face, lambent with joy, droops. “Oh, my dear, I’m afraid he’s gone.” Crater-cold seeps to my core. “What do you mean, gone?” “To Mars. Not long after the incident on the rim. I encouraged him to wait, but he insisted.” I can’t feel my fingertips, and it’s more than the lingering numbness of frostbite. “But why would he….” “To make a new world for us!” Madurai chirps. “Even his name is a sign the

Mother chose him. Wildfires that razed the forests and plains of old Earth enriched the land, so plants could grow more strongly than ever from the remains. It was ash that provided fertile soil for the Mother’s seeds to flourish after devastation, and Ash who will prepare that scorched red planet for life.” “He’s named for a tree,” I snap. We sat in a tree together once, and started planning the future. And now he’s gone without me. Madurai strokes my hair with her bent fingers.“Don’t fret, child. You’ll see him again when we make our migration. I’m leading a convoy back to the Sanctuary to gather the Exiles. Come with me. We will lead them together.” I shudder at her touch. “I’d like to see Hazel and Thorn first.” “They left for Earth at the same time Ash boarded his shuttle on the orbit station,” says Everest. Of course. I’d almost forgotten. “To bring the Tenax home.” His mouth twitches. “Precisely.” I sigh. “Then I suppose we should bring the Exiles home, too.”

“Everest knew you were alive the whole time I was gone?” Ash’s fingers clenched in his lap. “He never said anything about you in his transmissions.” Skye shook her head. “That’s not all he didn’t tell you….”

Madurai presses her cheek against the rover’s window, chattering at the blue disc pinned to the sky. “I hear your voice clearly now, Mother. You did not exile us as punishment, but out of love. We will spread pure seeds into the universe, take root on other worlds, and let humanity flower again!”

Mother’s molten mantle, is this how I seemed to Ash? Is that why he went without me? Not because he thought I was dead, but because he didn’t want me along? No. We were friends, weren’t we? He’ll be glad to see me when I finally get to Mars…but when will that be? I glance at the lunar Vator’s shimmering cable, letting it carry my eyes to the stars, and frown. “Why is the cabin down?” “Hm?” Madurai turns from her Earth-gazing. “If Thorn and Lily went back to Earth, why is the cabin here and not in orbit?” “It brought back some cargo,” says Dallas, steering the rover into one of the station’s docks. He glances sideways at Madurai in the enger seat. “Are you certain it’s wise to contaminate our Sanctuary, Speaker?” “The Sanctuary was but our egg, Dallas. We’ve broken free and begun to spread our wings—what happens to the empty shell does not concern us.” One more metaphor and I’ll jump back into the damned crater. We pull up to the auxiliary airlock, since a supply trailer from our convoy hogs the docking bay. What could they possibly be bringing from Earth that would need such a large transport? I climb out into the station. A cacophony of footsteps echoes off the lunarcrete, underscored with a soft rhythmic chime. “Move it, freaks!” barks an unseen voice too young for that kind of ferocity. Disbelief withers the words in my throat as the entire Tenax band shuffles past in chains. Ryll leads the way, her poise as unbreakable as the cuffs around her wrists and ankles. Behind her, Ced wears the only ugly expression I’ve ever seen on his face. Rage and fear draw new combinations on every set of mutant features in the parade, staggering along in ill-fitting Colony jumpsuits. “I taught you how to dive, you ungrateful piece of spacewaste!” Gin snarls at the guard marching beside her with a Hummingbird strapped to his shoulder. “I saved you from predators when you were a weed, and this is what I get?” The guard prods her with the gun—not a hard poke, but she stumbles. Her

friend Jas catches her arm and silently holds her up, although she seems barely able to stand herself. All the Tenax move with stubborn shakiness. The guards don’t look much better. Faceted helmets don’t fully conceal the juvenile faces, nervous glances, and gnawed lips. “What are they doing here?” I hiss at Madurai, disembarking behind me. “Paying their penance,” she says primly. “After defiling our Mother and returning against her will, they will atone by harvesting materials to build our ships to Mars.” “You can’t do that to people!” “They’re not people, they’re abominations,” says Dallas. He watches the Tenax file into the loading bay, his face pinched in a sneer. “The Mother created these creatures to help her pure children ascend to the stars.” Madurai pats my arm. “You see? It’s all part of the universe’s balance.” A child’s shriek rings off the lunarcrete walls, and Dallas sighs. “I told them to separate the offspring! Those Colony brats can’t follow orders.” “They will learn,” said Madurai, poisoning the patient words with a dark smile. She takes Dallas’ arm and they disappear after the Tenax, leaving me alone. Prickles creep over my skin. The Tenax got to experience life on a real planet—I could have the same if I lead the Exiles to Mars, to Ash, to a real home. All I have to do is get back in the rover. Shadows stir in the corridor and a ghost drifts into my peripheral vision. My pulse accelerates so rapidly that it constricts my voice to a whisper. “Ash?” He turns, extra eyelids flying wide with surprise. Not Ash. Thorn. “Halley sm—” A hand pops out of the darkness to cover his mouth. Hazel stands beside him, wearing one of the black guard uniforms. Both of them gape at me. “What are you doing here?” I ask, sliding over to them. “Everest said you went back to Earth!”

Thorn peels Hazel’s hand away to speak. “I went to orbit with Ash, and the minute he launched they locked my ass up and went to kidnap the others.” “Who’s they?” “Me,” says Hazel, her voice brittle. “And the other terranauts.” “I saw you fall into the crater,” says Thorn, still staring at me. “How did you —” “I’ll tell you on the way out of here.” I grab his wrist and pull him toward the airlock. His feet stay planted. “What about everyone else?” “Even Ash had to Gather specimens a few at a time. Hurry, before Dallas and Madurai come back.” “They’re not going anywhere if the cargo bay door jams,” says Hazel. She dashes across the station’s open main area. Thorn hesitates, watching her go, then follows me to the rover. I pull away from the station and open the throttle as wide as I dare, bouncing over the rugged terrain. “So what’s the plan?” Thorn asks, working at his restraints. “I’ll let you know when I think of one.” He laughs, a strange sound to hear from that face. Ash almost never laughs. Hope brightens his eyes, identical but somehow different from his brother’s. Which now—my heart deflates and sinks to the soles of my boots—I’ll never see again.

“You gave up your chance at leaving Luna to save the Tenax,” said Ash when she’d finished an abridged version of the tale. “I couldn’t condemn them to the place I’d spent my life trying to escape. Then I’d be no better than Madurai, judging people’s worth by their genes.”

“I’m surprised she’d align herself with anthroformed colonists.” Ash glared at his own hands as if he could see through skin and cells to the engineered DNA. “Everest must have told her one hell of a story.” “Her, and everyone else. Your trip to Mars gave him the big morale boost he needed to bring everyone under control,” said Skye. He shot her a hesitant smile. “Not everyone.” “No—fortunately there are some who don’t like Everest’s new brand of leadership, either. People like Hazel and her parents. They’ve risked so much to help us.” Skye folded her fingers closed one by one, willing all the pieces of her plan to align as neatly. “If we can free the last of the Tenax today, everyone will be safe and we’ll never have to come back to the Sanctuary.” “What about Jeddah?” asked Ash. “Do we need to get her out, too?” She pressed her eyes shut, frosted lashes cooling the sudden sting of heat….

“So you made yourself an outcast again, just to kidnap one mutant boy.” Jeddah follows me across the Archive, the wheels of her chair almost clipping my heels. It’s still odd, having sharp conversations with her after a lifetime believing she could barely my name. “What now?” “Free the others. Thorn’s raiding the supply caves for atmo generators and food. We’ll set up a hideout in the Fringe and figure things out from there.” I try to pack up the medical kit Jeddah used to tend my wounds, but my clumsy hand fumbles the instruments. Jeddah takes over, shaking her head. “You can hardly grip anything— merciful Mother, I hope that frostbite damage isn’t permanent—and I can tell your shoulder is still sore. And that’s only the injuries to muscle and bone.” She cups my cheek, concern in every seam of her face. “You aren’t in any condition to launch a rescue campaign.” “Then who will?” She looks at me for a long moment with mingled pride and sadness. “You’re

too much like Geneva. I should have added more Colonist genes.” “That would only have made it worse—Rowan died trying to help the Tenax escape from Juniper. Insubordination is my inheritance.” Smiling, I take Jeddah’s calloused hand in both of mine. “You and Geneva wanted me to be the bridge between the worlds. That’s what I’m doing—returning humans to Earth so that even if Everest and Madurai’s plans fail, our species won’t fail with it.” “We wanted so much better for you,” Jeddah murmurs, apologies in her eyes. “Organisms don’t always behave the way you’d expect.” Ash in my head again, his words sliding off my tongue. I shake him away. “But they can only stay in cold storage for so long before they need to grow wild again.” I run a finger along the specimen jars, the Linnean names like exotic incantations in my head. He seemed to know all of them, even muttered them to himself sometimes. Lifting the nearest vessel, full of thin, papery seeds, I wipe away the rime on its label. Fraxinus. The syzygy medal burns against my collarbone. A buzzer sounds deep in the entry tunnel and Jeddah utters a rare curse. “Hide!” She sweeps the seedlings off the bottom tier of germination shelves and bundles me behind the insulation curtains. “Jeddah—” “Today is not the day you sink, island child.” Her wheelchair clatters away. Humid air crawls down my throat, tasting of chlorophyll and artificially enriched soil. I strain my ear for voices, but detect only the mechanical snuffling of instruments on Jeddah’s workstation. “I confess, I’ve wanted to do that for years.” Dallas’ haughty drawl echoes on the stone and I start, almost jostling the shelves around me. “Sentimental waste of resources to do anything else, but the Speaker abides by the Judgment of the Stars.” “What’s that?” A male voice, young and nasal. “One of our old traditions, trial by—” “Oh, that’s right, I forgot I didn’t care.” Pyres. My fingers curl into silent fists.

“Good Goddard, she’s got a whole frozen greenhouse in here! If I can find a few good edibles to hybridize, maybe I’ll finally get promoted.” “These are pure old Earth species,” Dallas reminds him tersely. “And they’ll be pure rubbish if we leave them in jars for another hundred years.” Glass clinks interminably—Pyres and Dallas must be packing up the archive’s contents. The hot UV lamp draws sweat on my forehead. I lay still, willing my blood to pump more quietly. Wheelchair or no, they might make Jeddah dive into the skylight again if they find me here. “Should we take some of the seedlings?” Dallas speaks right beside me. The shelf over my head shivers as he rummages through the sprouts. I clamp my lips closed, trying not to breathe. “Too messy,” said Pyres. Jars clatter and he groans. “Ugh, that’s heavy. I’m not carrying more up that rickety ladder. Let’s take these to the convoy and come back for the rest.” “I suppose they aren’t going anywhere.” Footsteps fade from the room. I fight my way out of the curtain, tumbling face-first onto the cold floor. Several of the carved niches gape, empty now. Stripped of their glistening treasures, they’re just gouges in the wall. Fraxinus is gone. No one breathes except me and the rattling atmo unit. “Jeddah?” No response. I scramble up and into the tunnel. Afterimage spots from the UV lights blind me. I trip over something, throw down a hand to catch myself, and skim flesh. Vision creeps back into my eyes. Jeddah sits just inside the door, slumped. “They stole the Archive!” I hiss, shaking her arm. Her head lolls. Pressing my fingers against her throat, I notice a tiny red spot on her neck—a puncture wound from a needle. Livid heat floods me. I bury my head in Jeddah’s bony lap and let out the scream where no one can hear it. When I’m out of breath, I force myself to stand. Dallas and Pyres will be back soon for the rest of the specimens. Impulse drives my muscles. I stride back

into the archive, heft my bag by the strap, and swing it into the nearest niche. “You took Geneva.” Jars fly off the wall, drifting a moment in low gravity before shattering on the floor. “You took Ash.” Sobs tear at my words and I hate the way it sounds. “You took Jeddah, too—everyone who ever gave a quark about me.” I punctuate each accusation with a blow. Up and down the remaining rows, I smash every vessel Jeddah so lovingly curated. “You think if you cut me off, you can bottle me up in the dark to die. But I won’t let you do that to me. Or anyone else.” Shards crunching under my boots, I flee for the Fringe.

“Jeddah’s dead. Dallas murdered her when the Colony stole the archive.” Ash reached across the cramped chamber to touch her arm. “I’m sorry.” Skye shrugged him away. “I’m used to losing the people who matter to me.” The barb shattered Ash’s imive expression at last. “I thought you were dead, Skye!” The familiar pronunciation sent a tiny shiver through her—no hiss on the s, no snap on the k, just one perfectly balanced syllable. But now it also held a rawness, like a long-unused machine part creaking back to functionality. “How could I stay here and look at that Goddard-damned crater every day, knowing you were lying frozen at the bottom? Do you know how many times I’ve watched you fall, over and over again in my head?” “How many are you up to? I know you like breaking records.” An angry breath shuddered through Ash’s ribs. “How could I have known you were alive?”

Skye slammed fists into her thighs. “Because I told you!”

…Slipping around the Shack, just like I did when I poached parts from their machinery. The dome windows glow yellow in the soulless lunar night. I avoid them, skirting the new security sensors, and climb up toward the solar array. s shimmer in the peaks’ permanent sun, fueling the Shack’s power cells and its cluster of communications equipment. This apparatus lets them talk to the lunar Vator, and through it to GEO and Earth. So maybe I can talk to Ash. Opening my telemetry kit, I patch my helmet’s comm unit into the array. Wires and plugs and frequencies—can wisps of metal and invisible waves bridge a solar system? The powdery regolith gives beneath my knees as I kneel before the instrument, just like the day I confirmed Geneva’s signal, the day all this began. My hands shake on the dials. I tip my head up to the stars, tears blurring the constellations into a fluid mosaic, and imagine I can see the echoes of my voice rippling out into space….

“You hijacked the Shack’s comm array?” Ash eyed her warily. “What was the message?” “Just a silly code. Something you might understand, but meaningless to the Colony if they intercepted it.” “Please tell me.” Rolling her eyes, Skye recited: “‘Residue from combustion, Luna still has an ionosphere.’” Ash caught his breath. “On the way to Mars I kept picking up pieces of transmissions. I thought they were just stray comms from the Shack. Halley smokes, if I’d just gotten out of my head and paid attention….” “I sent clues about the Tenax, too. I thought you’d want to help Thorn and the others, even if you didn’t care about me.”

“Do you really think I….” Ash bit his lip and turned away, but there was nowhere to move in the cramped cavern. He leaned both palms against the wall. “The only complete messages I got were from Everest—he must control all the channels. That’s why no one here got my warnings about Mars, or the video we streamed from the Vator after finding the Tenax. He makes sure that the only story we hear is his.” “Even if you had heard me, it’s not as though you could just turn the shuttle around and come back.” Skye hugged herself—the anguish held close for two years was ebbing, leaving her bare and empty. “It was stupid. I guess I just missed talking at you.” The shadow of a smile flickered across Ash’s face. “You obviously found a better use for all those words. While I was picking spacecraft parts out of the red dust, you started a rebellion. You didn’t need me.” “I don’t need sunlight, either.” Skye waved a hand at the thick stone around her. “But it makes everything a lot brighter.” Ash looked straight at her, eyes plaintive shimmers beneath his dark lashes. “Mars only gets half as much sunlight as here. It’s too far away from the source.” His soft ission cracked the ossified place in Skye’s core. Thin rays of warmth crept through her veins, immune to the chill as the entrance curtain stirred. “Ready when you are,” Chiba whispered from the other side. Skye raised a questioning eyebrow at Ash. Faint stubble didn’t conceal the familiar lines of anxiety in his jaw, but he nodded. They scurried a few hundred meters through the frigid tunnels and into the bioreactor room’s eerie green light. “Over here,” Dakar called softly from behind one of the algae tanks. His midnight skin blended into the shadows. “They’ve got the Tenax in one of the new mining shafts, scraping up a few last-minute kilos of ore. Getting them out won’t be easy.” Linden chuckled. “When has it ever been?” Bounding to the ladder, he made it halfway up before the entire cavern shuddered and he clung to the rails.

“What was that?” asked Ash, with a nervous glance at the bioreactor. Algae sloshed inside the labyrinth of pipes. “Tomsk must’ve just blasted open a new shaft,” said Dakar. “The Sanctuary is going to be as hollow as Shackleton Crater when he’s finished.” “As long as we empty it of Tenax,” said Skye. She led a circuitous route through the ages. A loud argument rang in the intersection ahead and she pressed to the wall, creeping as close as she dared. “—blasting with hydrogen tanks nearby! Are you trying to blow us all to pieces?” Florence shrilled. “We need to expose that vein if we’re going to make quota,” said Tomsk, sounding harassed. “Or do you want to drive back with a half-empty trailer and tell the Speaker why we can’t finish the new ship on time?” “I don’t understand why we had to build another ship in the first place, after all the years we wasted on ours.” Florence sighed. “Let’s just get the tanks out of here.” A dolly rattled past with a Colony guard at either end, Florence chivvying them from behind. Skye crept to the mouth of the tunnel. Dust swirled over a freshly demolished heap of rubble. Above it, a half-dug fissure in the wall sparkled with minerals. “Shaft’s open, freaks. Get digging!” Tomsk shouted, gesturing with his Hummingbird. A refurbished rock crushing unit, salvaged from old lunar mining operations, crawled through the haze with Tenax chained to its flanks. “You can’t send them in there! We haven’t shored up the ceiling yet,” came a doleful reprimand. “Use the bots instead.” “I am. They’re just meat machinery, Santiago.” “Any kind of machinery will break if it’s not well-maintained.” Santiago stood with folded arms between the mining crew and their overseer. “They can’t work if you beat and starve them—no wonder we’re behind on production.”

The gun barrel jabbed him in the chest. “We’re behind because you’re too easy on them. I thought they were supposed to be tough?” A woman hunched over the gravel hopper stood to her full height, regal even in a ragged jumpsuit. “Let’s go back to Earth and see who survives,” Lily growled. Tomsk kicked the chain between her ankles and she fell backward onto the stone with a grunt. “You dare speak the Mother’s name?” “And you dare kidnap her children?” Skye retorted, unleashing the Hornet’s fine blue laser on Tomsk’s boots. He hopped aside, cursing, and Linden snatched away his weapon. “But we changed the schedule!” Tomsk glared at Dakar’s weapon, leveled to hold him against the wall. “How did you know they’d be here?” “Human telemetry,” Ash murmured, with a shy glance at Skye. He offered a hand to Lily. “Are you all right?” She didn’t reply, or even acknowledge his presence. Milky haws blinked erratically and her eyes slipped back into her head. “Not again,” said Santiago, rushing to her side. He and Phlox held her firmly while she convulsed. Bright blood trickled from her nostrils. “What’s wrong with her?” asked Ash, looking stricken. “I don’t know.” Phlox checked Lily’s pulse with trembling fingers as the other woman went limp. “I’ve tried everything I know, all the meds and pharma plants Santiago brings us from the Shack—” “I knew it,” Tomsk snarled. “The stories about Earth corrupted you. You changed sides.” “That happened years ago, the day Madurai condemned Geneva,” Santiago snapped, his tone hard and dark as the vein of ore behind him. He scooped an arm under Lily’s shoulders and pulled her upright. “Can you walk?” Lily wiped her lips with a shaking hand. “Maybe if you get this damn chain

off.” “That’s why we came,” said Skye, adjusting the intensity on her Hornet. Its beam melted the links with a flash and an acrid curl of smoke. “Follow Linden. He’ll get you out of the Sanctuary.” Santiago gave her arm a proud squeeze and half-carried Lily into the tunnel. The others filed out after them one by one as their bonds were severed. Gin, the last prisoner, danced a shaky step when the cord between her ankles broke. “I don’t know how far we’re going, but I’ll enjoy walking with—” A Hummingbird screamed and the Tenax girl crumbled. Skye caught her before she slammed into the stone. Red hair flamed against the grey stone as Chiba leapt to confront the shooter. “Mother, don’t!” Florence, lurking in the tunnel exit, went rigid. “I raised you better than to call me that! We are all children of the same Mother.” “Including them.” Chiba nodded at Gin. “Enough, Chiba. I know Dallas and I were strict with you, but it was the only way to keep you on the pure path!” Florence’s face softened slightly, although her grip on the weapon held. “It’s not too late to return to it. The Speaker will forgive you.” “But I won’t forgive myself,” said Chiba stubbornly. She moved up until her abdomen pressed against the weapon’s flared muzzle. “The Tenax will die away from Earth. We have to let them go home.” “What about our home? Without fuel and metals, we won’t make it to Mars!” “Mars isn’t any better than Luna,” said Ash, helping Skye set Gin on her feet. Florence’s mouth fell open as she recognized him. “You…but…the Speaker promised us a homeworld!”

“Maybe Everest tricked her, too,” said Ash. “She probably wanted to believe in a new planet more than anyone.” “You’ll take this traitor’s word over the Speaker’s?” Tomsk fumed, trying to get past Dakar. “Or just take mine.” Chiba reached toward her mother. “Come with us and we’ll find a way to get free of Luna, I promise.” Florence trembled so hard that the Hummingbird rattled in her hands. She flung it down and tripped back down the tunnel. “We’re under attack!” In the instant of distraction, Tomsk tackled Dakar, knocking him beneath the rock crusher’s still-churning pistons. An agonized howl echoed in the cavern as ore hammers shattered Dakar’s foot. Chiba shot blue fire across the cave, dropping the engineer while Ash and Skye extricated Dakar from the machine. His left boot hung perversely flat. “I can’t make it out on this,” he hissed through his teeth. “Go ahead of me. I’ll hold off the guards, buy the rest of you some time.” Gin rolled her eyes. “Okay, you proved you’re brave. Can we go now?” She extended a hand to him just as she had on Earth two years prior. This time Dakar took it, and the five of them dashed out of the mine. Linden waited at the bottom of the ladder, green light rippling on his impatient face. “What took you so long?” “Florence.” Chiba helped Dakar down, and he and Gin limped together into the Fringe. “I knew I couldn’t change her. I can’t change anyone.” Linden kissed the top of her head. “That’s not true.” “You’ll get another chance to talk to her if you don’t hurry,” Skye called from the ladder. Linden gave her a grim nod and ushered Chiba toward the foil door. A supersonic shriek filled the cavern, and the ageway dissolved in a cascade of stone. Algae sloshed in the pipes. Tremors shook Skye’s weak right hand from the rung and she fell the last meter to the ground. Fissures slithered across the ceiling. Reflexes from a lifetime underground set off every alarm in her body.

Cave collapse! “Ash, get down!” she yelled. He hung on the ladder, transfixed by the cracks widening over his head. Instinct eclipsed resentment: Skye seized him and threw them both into a sheltered corner. They curled together, arms shielding their skulls from the rocky rain. The world’s aperture shrank to a small, dark bubble. Panicked breaths warmed Skye’s face. At last the roar subsided, leaving echoes of gravel and her own frantic heartbeat. “Are you all right?” They spoke almost in unison, words tangling like their limbs. Skye peeled herself up, mineral dust filling her nose. A single bulb still swung on the string of shattered lamps. Its shivering glow illuminated a pile of rocks where the Fringe’s entrance—where Linden and Chiba—had stood moments before. She scrambled forward with a cry, tugging uselessly at the boulders. Ash braced his shoulder under the smallest one and heaved. It didn’t budge. Crouching, Skye added her own weight to the effort. Something soft grazed her wrist. She glanced down and bile rose in her throat: a spray of curls gleamed under the stone, red hue deepened with blood. A triumphant shout echoed from the ledge. Tomsk looked up from his Hummingbird sight, smirking. Skye reached for her Hornet, but her fingers found no strap on her shoulder —the lost weapon lay back near the ladder, crushed beneath the fallen rocks. Tomsk spared it a sneer as he climbed down. “Bones break a lot more easily than rock,” he growled, lurching forward. Faint whiffs of seared flesh wafted from the laser wound in his thigh. Skye lunged for a stone to throw, but the Hummingbird’s merciless waves drove her back against the blocked tunnel. “At least the Tenax got away,” murmured Ash, pressed to the boulder beside her. A stifled laugh slipped from her chest. “You never would have come back from Mars if you knew it would end like this."

He spoke so softly that she felt the words more than she heard them. “Yes, I would.” Skye reached for his hand and a warm, wet droplet landed on her arm. Rain, in Mare Ingenii? I must’ve taken a rock to the head and I’m dreaming up a nicer way to die. She touched the spot and her fingertips came away green. The rain on Earth was silver…. Catching her breath, she raised her eyes to the maze of pipes overhead. The neat geometry hung crooked, dislodged by the blast. Metal groaned in a sudden crescendo. Tomsk looked up at the sound and his indignant cry drowned as the bioreactor burst. Verdant sludge exploded over the cave. Ash grabbed Skye’s arm and hauled her back from the deluge. Tides of slime flowed over the floor. Tomsk, a shiny green ghoul, clawed at the film of algae covering his mouth, but his slick hands only combed more tendrils in place. Sucking uselessly for air, he sank to the floor. “There goes the atmosphere,” said Ash, nudging a puddle with his toe. “We need to get out while we can still breathe.” “Not until we get Linden and Chiba out,” said Skye. “We can’t move those stones.” “Then we’ll just break them up more.” She kicked through the algae, looking for Tomsk’s Hummingbird. “Survive together, isn’t that what you divers always said?” “It never stopped the planet from taking lives.” A firm hand grasped her arm. “They’re gone, Skye, and we won’t be far behind if we can’t find another exit.” The words seared Skye’s lungs. “The skylight is the only way out now.” Dodging rivers of ooze, they climbed out of the bioreactor room and raced through the Sanctuary to the airlock. It opened into a Colony cargo trailer

heaped with crates of ore and racks of steel cylinders. Skye paused to look back at Ash, panting behind her. “We’ll have to commandeer this thing and—” A mechanical shriek burrowed into her skull, gouging out the rest of the words. Fire twisted her insides. Two dark figures emerged from behind the tanks, the twin black holes of their Hummingbirds pulling her into inescapable agony. She reeled backward but didn’t hit the floor—a warm force field caught her and kept her from falling. Voices filtered through the nausea: “Ash! What are you….” “…Mars?” Ash’s reply murmured close to her ear, holding her up with his body positioned between her and the guards. “Not like he told us…we dove together, so you know I wouldn’t lie about this….” Jaws dropped in synchrony with weapon barrels. Exclamations, hesitation, reconciliation…then all four of them were piled in the trailer’s cab, Skye and Ash crammed together on the jump seat. Running lights illuminated the hull of the abandoned ship and cast its tall shadow on the skylight wall. A ship to nowhere, a dream for desperate people. Because if they wake up…. “You were right. The truth about Mars is the most powerful weapon we have,” Skye whispered. Ash smiled tentatively at her and for an instant it felt the way it used to, his steady presence amplifying her strength. Mother’s molten mantle, it’s good to have him back. She hid her face against the porthole. Tears blurred the ramp outside. But there’s no way I can let him stay.

⁂

Mare Ingenii’s flat plains finally flowed into the rugged landscapes of the South Pole Aitken Basin, and Skye directed the trailer to her hideout’s flimsy modular airlock. Leaving Ash to shepherd the two nervous recruits, she went into the main area alone. An excited hum filled the cavern. Rescued Tenax clustered around the medical area, embracing friends or talking in eager, relieved tones. Slipping discreetly around them proved impossible: hands clasped her shoulders, a few arms drew her in for hugs, grateful voices murmured in her ears. Is this how Madurai felt with all the Exiles looking up to her? No. Most of them just feared her. This is different. Warmth trickled into Skye’s heart, but didn’t completely wash away the sorrow. Extracting herself at last, she found Dakar sitting on one of the cots with his foot immobilized. Gin bent over him, wielding a hypodermic needle like a dagger. “Not now. I need to go back for the others,” said Dakar, swatting her weakly away. “No, you don’t,” Skye told him. “There’s no one left in the Sanctuary. We’re done.” He glanced up at her and exhaled. “Merciful Mother. We saw the tunnel collapse, but couldn’t get back inside! I thought all of you were still trapped there, or worse.” “Worse.” Skye swallowed hard. “Only Ash and I made it out.” Dakar stared at her a moment, despair lining his face. He turned to Gin. “I’ll take that painkiller after all.” “Might as well.” Sydney came over with a scan of the crushed foot. “I don’t have the equipment to repair all the shattered metatarsals. We’ll have to steal one of the Colony med-beds to fix you up.” “There’s one on the lunar Vator,” said Skye. “Can you hold out a few days, Dakar?” “The Tenax held out almost two years. I’ll be—ouch!” Dakar massaged his

arm where Gin stabbed him. “I’ll be fine, so long as someone else gives the shots.” “Sorry. I’m a little shorthanded.” Sydney nodded at Phlox, scurrying around the makeshift sickbay behind him. “You brought me back twenty new patients and only one new medic.” “What can I do?” asked Skye. She threw herself into the small tasks: ing out spirulina bars, exchanging tattered jumpsuits for clean ones filched from the Colony’s stores, dabbing astringent on wrists and ankles chafed by months in cuffs. Constant motion made it easier to ignore the pain in both muscles and mind. She hardly paused until a hand brushed her shoulder. “Are you sure you’re okay?” asked Ash. His dark eyes scanned her more attentively than Sydney’s diagnostic tool. “A double Hummingbird blast is no joke.” “I’m here. Which is more than I can say for my half my team.” Skye drew a deep, uneven breath to quell the creeping grief and shame. Ash looked at his boots for a moment. “When Linden and I dove for GAEA, we knew every time we stepped onto that anchor platform that we might not make it back. Whenever someone got red-ringed, the whole Vator went quiet for weeks. But we did it anyway because we thought what we were doing was more important than any one of us.” “An important lie,” Skye muttered. “That makes what you’ve done here all the more remarkable.” Ash nodded across the cavern. “Even with the bleak, miserable truth, you inspired all these people to fight for something. I never would have figured Linden and Chiba to a Darksider rebellion.” “And now it’s hard to imagine going ahead without them.” Skye closed her eyes, recalling their faces with a soft, mirthless laugh. “Indispensable enemies. That sounds crazy, doesn’t it?” “Yeah, completely. When has that ever happened?” The corner of Ash’s mouth twitched upward. Streaks of dried blood, souvenirs from the

rockslide, marred his brow. Reaching out, Skye swiped his face clean with a disinfectant pad. He winced but held still, color flooding his cheeks. She bit back a smile. “Not as bad as the time we almost got crushed on Earth.” “Thank Goddard for lower gravity. And you, saving me even though you didn’t want me there.” “The whole thing might have gone much worse without you.” Skye shredded the pad in her fingers. “If I hadn’t rushed ahead with the rescue, we might have gotten out of this without losing anyone.” “You’d have lost more if you’d waited,” said Sydney, sliding past with a clean set of instruments. He showed her a dozen diagnostic scans with lurid blotches of color. “Another month or two and some of these might have been inoperable.” A jerk of his chin indicated Ced, sitting on Ryll’s cot in the cramped surgical room and holding her hand while she slept. “But they’ll recover now?” asked Ash anxiously. “If they get back to Earth soon. And some need immediate treatment regardless.” He ducked into the chamber and tapped Ced’s arm gently. “You two need to trade places.” With Ash and Skye’s help, he lifted the cot carefully and moved it to a quiet space nearby. Ryll stirred when they set her down. Blinking away the anesthetics, she stared at Ced. Her tongue fumbled around words. “How in the galaxy did you get here?” He grinned at her. “You sound like me, the day you pulled me out of that jettisoned pod and I woke up in the arms of the most beautiful girl on Earth.” Ryll managed a cynical snort. “The only girl on Earth—Lily was twice our age.” “It wouldn’t have mattered if all ten billion people who died during Sporespread had been there,” said Ced, brushing a lock of hair from Ryll’s

face. “You were the one who saved me.” A woozy half-smile replied. “We saved each other.” Skye glanced at Ash and found him already watching her. Heat seared her face like solar radiation. She turned to Sydney for distraction. “Speaking of Lily, is she all right? She had some kind of fit in the cave before.” “She wouldn’t let me near her until I’d examined all the others.” Purpose eclipsed the wistful envy in his eyes as he turned away from the couple and back to the waiting survivors. “Lily! No more excuses. You’re my last patient.” “I’m fine,” said Lily dismissively. She sat against the wall with Santiago, studying one of the Hornets. “Oh, so nosebleeds and seizures are a normal part of Tenax physiology?” Santiago stood and pulled her up after him. “Good Goddard, Santiago, you fuss over people almost as much as Rowan did.” Lily rolled her eyes. “I don’t have time for this.” Sydney began scanning her. “It should only take a few….” He trailed off as malignant rainbows spread across the display. “Oh, damn.” “None of the others showed that many!” said Skye, peering over his shoulder. “None of others spent more than a decade on Earth. Lily had almost three times that. Her Aspergillus symbiont would have been far more established than any of the other Tenax.” Sydney indicated spots on the cranial display, his shoulders sagging. “The tumors have metastasized everywhere.” “Don’t tell me how bad it is, just if you can fix it,” Lily growled. Grim sympathy etched the medic’s face. “Not when they’re embedded in key regions of your brain like this. Even if we had a med-bed, it couldn’t do anything for a case this advanced.” “She doesn’t need a med-bed, she just needs to go home,” said Skye,

speaking fast over her rising dread. “We’ll have them to the base station in a few days. Two Vator trips and a shuttle ride—they can be back on Earth in three weeks.” Sydney shook his head at Lily. “You might not make it three weeks.” Lily stared at the blotches on her brain scan. “That’s still enough time to get Geneva back,” she said in a fierce whisper. Ash frowned, confused. “Geneva? Skye’s mother?” “Her namesake.” Lily’s thin fingers curled into fists. “My daughter.”

4

Shatter

“Your….” Ash stared at Lily, hardly recognizing his old idol. Illness and low gravity had shriveled her athletic body until the jumpsuit hung loose on her limbs. Her wild braids had long since come undone, leaving close-cropped hair that emphasized hollowed cheeks, although the white blaze still shone defiantly across her brow. Scars ringed her wrists and ankles where restraints had bitten flesh. She must’ve tried to break free and escape, over and over. To get back to…. “Your daughter?” he repeated. “Mine and Rowan’s.” Lily gave a wry smile at his expression. “Surprised me, too. Who’d have thought two people who gave up on life would be capable of creating a new one? And a damn near perfect one at that—she’s got his eyes, with these.” She gave her protective extra lids a demonstrative wink. “Where is she?” “Hostage in the Shack with the rest of the Tenax kids.” Angry teeth flashed. “How else could they keep us as obedient mining slaves?” “Magnolia’s been looking after them,” said Santiago. “They’re fine.” “Despite Juniper’s best efforts. She couldn’t wait to get her exam gloves on Gen. Locked me in the laboratory until she was born, then shipped me off to the maria a few weeks later. Haven’t seen her since.” Lily’s hands clenched in her lap. “She’s more than a year old now, and she’s spent her whole little life in a cage with no connection to Earth.” “Except her name,” Skye reminded her. “Why did you name her for Skye’s mother?” asked Ash. “Because without her, Rowan would’ve died on Luna. We never would have

found each other again, and Gen wouldn’t exist,” Lily told him. She scowled at the floor. “Although maybe that would’ve been better.” “Don’t say that,” said Skye. “You know better than most of us what it’s like to grow up trapped here.” A shadow darted across her pale face. “That’s why I have a plan to free her. Once we’re ready to break for Earth, Magnolia will smuggle all the children out of the Shack, and Violet will take them with her to the shipyard. We’ll pick them up just before ascent.” “Too complicated. Give me a few hours to figure out this thing and I’ll get her myself,” said Lily, picking up the Hornet again. Santiago shook her arm gently. “You should rest.” Her barking laugh ricocheted off the stone. “I’m t-minus three weeks from dead. There’ll be plenty of time for rest then.” “At least take some analgesics,” said Sydney, returning with a tray of medicines. “No. I’ll need my senses sharp to get good in a hurry. It’s been two years since I shot anything, and Juniper’s heart is a damn tiny target.” Standing with a stifled groan, Lily strode off with the Hornet slung over both shoulders, the way she used to carry her rifle on Earth. A touch of the old saunter lightened her limp. The sight wrenched a cord in Ash’s chest. “There has to be something you can do for her,” he said, turning to the medic. “Maybe the Colony can engineer a new pharma compound with the plants from your archive.” “Go ask Lu’an. She’s been there long enough to know. She’s probably snuggled up in a lab with Dallas, planning her Martian garden. And why not? It’s a better life than squatting out here in a hole with me.” Sydney marched into the surgery room, flinging the curtain closed behind him. “Don’t mind him—you just saved two dozen people from a much worse hole than this,” Santiago told Ash and Skye.

“Almost. Do you think we can refit that hauler to take engers?” Skye tapped her fingers on folded arms, schemes bright in her eyes. “It would be the perfect cover to transport everyone back to the pole.” “Maybe, if we can rig up a few atmo generators and some harnesses.” “All right. I’ll gather some spares while you empty the trailer. Ash, if you help him it’ll get done a lot more quickly.” She turned back and forth between them, her words a torrent. “Move it away from the airlock so Thorn can get in. If we work fast, we can leave as soon as he gets back.” “Skye.” Santiago laid a hesitant hand on her shoulder. “It’ll be a few days before everyone is treated and able to travel. Just pause for a picosecond and breathe. We don’t have to move in such a hurry now. It’s over.” “Not yet.” Skye pulled away and darted down a tunnel. Watching the darkness engulf her again sent a shiver down Ash’s spine. “Mother’s molten mantle, Luna’s going to be a dismal place when the Tenax leave,” Santiago muttered, beckoning wearily toward the airlock. They hid the trailer behind a nearby bluff and climbed into the outfits dangling from the suitport. Ash relaxed a little inside the suit, an insulated reprieve from the unaccustomed closeness of other people. He fell into rhythm removing tanks. “Why haul back hydrogen and oxygen gas instead of just making liquid water on-site?” He grunted, glancing at a label before he hoisted the cylinder. “Hydrogen and oxygen can make more than water, Ash. They can make rocket fuel. Our helium-3 engine is designed for low, sustained power, not the thrust to propel a ship out of Luna’s gravity. We’re doing that the oldfashioned way.” Santiago mimed an explosion and chuckled. “Well, if we can avoid blowing anything up, we should leave some of these tanks,” said Ash. “The guards hid behind them and shot at us—they might be a good screen if someone decides to examine our cargo.” Santiago nodded and tossed him a laser welder. The tool nestled into old

callouses beneath Ash’s gloves and he wielded it with easy precision, making the vehicle’s seams airtight. “I’m surprised you how to do that,” said Santiago. “It’s been years since I showed you how.” “I’ve been practicing,” Ash told him with a short laugh. “Had a crash landing on Mars. Without the repair skills you taught me, I’d probably still be there.” A rare smile parted the older man’s beard. “At least our Ship wasn’t a complete waste of time.” “All the ships are a waste. Mars isn’t what it was supposed to be.” “What in life is?” Santiago strung safety harnesses through a neat row of rivets he’d placed in the hull. “The Exiles were supposed to return to Earth. I was supposed to care for Skye like a father. Little Gen is supposed to grow up with two parents looking after her. There’s no point investing yourself in anything beyond immediate survival, because it inevitably falls apart.” “Then why did you this resistance?” “Partly because I owed it to Skye. After all the years I didn’t stand up for her, the least I can do is her now.” Santiago paused. “And because after a few months around the Tenax, I couldn’t bear to help subjugate them. They’re every bit as tenacious as their name suggests—physically tough, yes, but it’s the spirit that’s really remarkable.” “Of the Tenax, or Lily?” Ash stole a sideways glance at him. Santiago shrugged, his expression unreadable behind the faceplate. “We have a lot in common. How many others know what it’s like to lose the person you love before you really have a chance to love them?” More people than you think. The memory of Skye vanishing into Shackleton Crater taunted Ash again. Now I know why Rowan tore off his mask without a blink when he found out Lily was still alive. After all that time thinking she was gone for good, a second chance…. Good Goddard, what am I doing out here?

“I’m going to see if Skye found those components yet,” he told Santiago, hoping the comm unit made the words sound less contrived. A few slow bounds brought him back to the airlock. Gases rushed in around him like the muddled thoughts expanding inside his skull. I dreamed up a million things I wished I could have said to her, and I haven’t said a damn one. Who knows what will happen when we get back to the Shack? This might be the last time I can talk to her alone, tell her I’m sorry, tell her I— The airlock chimed. Ash tore off his helmet, pushed through the inner door, and almost collided with a walking pile of equipment. Modular pieces of an atmo unit clattered to the floor, revealing Skye’s startled face behind them. “Sorry!” Ash gasped, the apology half-formed in his mind tumbling out unbidden. “Is the trailer done already?” asked Skye, her voice oddly thick. “I was just going to bring these outside….” She stooped to collect the components, but not before lamplight betrayed a wet glitter beneath her lashes. Quark me, is she crying? Ash realized with a start that after all they’d been through, he’d never seen her cry. Now tears drew shining deltas on her cheeks. “What’s wrong?” he asked, bracing himself for another wave of her anger. “Nothing. For once, things are fine. The Tenax are free and they’ll be on their way home in a few days. Santiago’s right—it’s over.” Skye drew a ragged breath, then flung down her armload of gear with a sob. “So what do I do now?” Echoes of the anguished question flew around the chamber and dissolved without answers. “I’ve been fighting to get back to Earth—for myself or for other people—as long as I can . I don’t know any other way to be. What is there, now that….” “Now that the dream you spent your whole life chasing has shattered?” Ash finished quietly. Red horizons scrolled through his mind. “I don’t know. I’m trying to figure that out.”

“Then we’re both just adrift in space, aren’t we?” Skye sank onto the changing bench, dropping her head into her hands. “I hope not. I’ve had enough of that for a lifetime,” said Ash. She swiped at her cheeks and flashed him a thin smile. “Must have been a lonely trip.” “I was never alone.” Ash sat beside her and began removing his surface suit. Unfastening straps and seals drew the nervous energy away from his brain and made it a little easier to speak. “I heard you in my head the whole time. Whenever I wanted to lie down in the dust and quit, you told me to get up and help the others still stuck on Luna. I talked to you every damn day. For all I know, that’s still happening—I’m the only living thing on Mars, dreaming this while you’re lying at the bottom of a crater millions of klicks away.” Saying it aloud made him shudder. “How much more proof do you need?” Skye shoved his arm, just hard enough to hurt a little. Pain, and elation at the physical reality of it, danced in Ash’s nerves. “Hey, when you promised not to beat me up anymore?” “ when you promised not to leave me behind?” she retorted, tapping him again. Ash caught her hand, expecting her to yank away, but she didn’t. Warm fingers aligned with his. I’m not dreaming this time—she’s really here with me. He ran a thumb along her knuckles. Calluses whispered under his touch, ridges rough and pale as the lunar topography overhead. Survivor’s hands. The kind I’d put my life in. “I’m not leaving again,” he said softly. “Yes, you are.” It wasn’t an accusation, but an order. Skye’s hand came alive, gripping his with insistent pressure. “You have to go back to Earth with Thorn and the others. It’s the only place you can have a future.” “What about you?” She gave a small, bitter laugh. “I’ll figure out something. I always do.”

“You can’t stay on Luna!” “What choice do I have? I can’t adapt to Spores, and you said Mars is a waste.” “I said Mars wasn’t the terraformed paradise Everest claimed it was. But it’s still better than Luna—kind of like Goldstone without the cacti and coywolves,” said Ash. “The climate’s okay sometimes, and with a lot of effort you might be able to grow something there eventually. I experimented with a few seeds while I was holed up on the old research station, waiting for the orbital alignment. It’s not hopeless.” “Might as well be. Making it livable would take generations.” Skye picked up his helmet and turned it, catching light on the scratched faceplate. “You’d spend your life in habitats and surface suits, just like you do here. That’s not home.” It took all Ash’s courage to push the words off his tongue. “Neither is a planet without you on it.” Startled blue eyes searched his face. Skye began to speak, but the airlock hissed open a second time, cutting off her reply. Their hands sprang apart and burrowed into their sleeves as the newcomer removed his helmet. “Vator’s ready,” said Thorn, shaking free a mane of shiny dark hair. “All it needs now are engers.” Skye smiled. “I’ve got a few dozen Earthlings looking for a ride.” “Then we’re done!” Thorn plopped down between Ash and Skye and slung an arm across each of their shoulders. ”You rescued everyone!” “Not everyone.” Taking a deep breath, Skye relayed the disaster in the bioreactor room. Ash watched the jubilation ebb from his brother until Thorn slumped back against the wall. “I should have been there,” he groaned. “What, so you could die under a pile of stone, too?” The raw edge in Skye’s voice only made it more commanding. “We’ve lost enough people. The

Tenax who died in the Sanctuary, the defectors Everest caught and punished, now our own teammates. Make it worth something by having the life they can’t.” Determination smoldered in her gaze, penetrating to Ash’s core. “Go back to Earth and thrive.”

⁂

“Exterior airlock light is on,” said Thorn, pressing his fingertips against the rover’s window and leaving a faint constellation of prints. “Is that Hazel’s signal?” asked Ash. He leaned around Lily beside him to glimpse the station. The lunar Vator’s thread glimmered like spider silk from the peak of Malapert Mountain. Skye nodded and adjusted the controls. “She meets us whenever she’s on duty and shares the latest news from the Colony.” She tossed a smirk at her lieutenant. “And by ‘us,’ I mean Thorn.” “You’ve got more important things to do than sneak into the station and watch archived video clips of Everest’s latest speeches.” Thorn mimed gagging. “But someone’s gotta do it.” “When did you develop such a strong sense of duty?” asked Ash, biting back a smile. “Okay, so I don’t go just for the intelligence.” A wing of hair curtained Thorn’s sheepish grin. “Is that weird, me and Hazel?” “A little,” Ash itted. Thorn cocked an eyebrow at Skye and the wordless twin connection transmitted a playful rebuke: Look who’s talking. Heat crept along the ridges of Ash’s ears. What’s that supposed to mean? We haven’t been alone since the airlock, days ago! All we’ve done is work together…talk a little, when we found a few minutes to spare…I even got

her to laugh a few times, almost like before…dammit, Thorn. He stuttered out the first thing that came to mind, hoping Skye wouldn’t interpret the loaded silence. “I guess it’s not that odd. She’s liked you for ages.” “Yeah. Wish I’d figured it out sooner,” said Thorn, tracing patterns on the glass. “Maybe we could’ve had more time.” “Isn’t she coming to Earth with us?” asked Lily. “She’s the right generation to adapt for Spores.” “But her parents aren’t, and she won’t leave them. I can’t really blame her. I might not go if our mom and dad were still alive.” Thorn banged his head back against the seat. “That was the one good thing about getting redringed—I didn’t have to figure out how to say goodbye to anyone.” Which is worse, saying goodbye or leaving things unsaid the rest of your life? Ash watched the swift, graceful movement of Skye’s hands on the commlink as she opened a channel and hailed the trailer. “Pull in behind one of those ridges—I’ll call you once I make sure everything’s ready for ascent,” she said into the mic. Santiago acknowledged and the cargo vehicle disappeared from their tracking display. “When is Violet supposed to bring the kids?” Lily pulsed her foot on the worn floor pad. “I think she beat us here.” Skye nodded to the transport peeking out of the station’s docking bay. Lily gnawed her bottom lip until the fine white scar turned pink. The moment they reached the airlock she sprang out of the rover and limped off toward the bay. Thorn, meanwhile, dawdled with his harness. Ash leaned over his brother’s seat. “What you say is less important than being there,” he murmured, lowering his voice as Skye moved past him. “Every minute you spend in here is one less you get with her.”

Thorn ran a hand through his hair, cursed softly, and climbed out. Ash followed him into the deserted station. Every tread of their boots seemed loud enough to shatter the scratched windows. “Hazel?” Skye called, disappearing down a hall. “She usually meets me the minute I dock,” Thorn muttered. “Hey! Hazel!” Footsteps approached and a figure materialized in the corridor’s shadowed mouth. She hung there, a silent silhouette. “There you are, weed. how you promised to punch me goodbye if I didn’t get on board when the time came?” Thorn moved toward her, trying to wring a chuckle from his voice. “Better put ‘em up.” “I can do better than fists.” The smooth, musical voice raised hairs on the back of Ash’s neck, and Willow moved into the light. Adulthood had crystallized her beauty so that even the Tenax’s dermal scales shone like jewels on her cheeks. She raised a finger and a small gang of armored guards clutching Hornets scurried out to surround her. One stepped to the fore, holding Skye around the neck with a gun barrel pressed into her side. Ash’s mouth turned to sand. “Where’s Hazel?” Thorn took a menacing stride toward Willow. “Where traitors belong—in the brig, waiting to be recycled. Did you think no one would notice how the security systems mysteriously malfunctioned every time she was on duty, even though she’s our best mechanic? Or that she let enemies get close enough to paint symbols on the wall, when as a weed she shot everything in sight?” Willow shook her head pityingly at Thorn’s horrified expression. “You might be identical on the outside, but Ash clearly got all the brains.” “Hazel didn’t help us willingly,” said Skye, the improvisation sliding off her tongue without a hitch. “We threatened to kill Violet at the shipyard if she didn’t cooperate.” “That’s not what she said.” “She’d never tell you anything,” Thorn snarled.

“You both did already.” Standing on tiptoe, Willow plucked a tiny device off the lintel. It glittered with the same metallic precision as her eyes. “I’ve heard every secret you exchanged for months. And not just the ones about the insurrection, either.” She puckered her lips and made a derisive kissing sound. Thorn lunged for her, but Ash held him back from the bristling guns. “So that’s why the convoy schedule changed,” said Skye, struggling against the elbow that pinned her throat. Willow smirked confirmation. “I thought you wanted to replace Juniper, not Holly,” said Ash scornfully. “I’m more than either of them ever were.” Willow tossed her head, sending an obsidian cascade of hair over her shoulder in a hypnotic low-gravity ripple. “No one trusted Juniper after they found out about the anthroforming, especially the Exiles. But they believe me—someone who could have stayed on Earth, but chose to work toward a better future on Mars.” Thorn snorted. “So you’re Everest’s new morale poster.” “Haven’t you noticed how his favorites end up? Look at me and Lily.” Ash shook his head. “Eventually you’re more useful to him as a memory, and then….” “Then he leaves you to die.” Willow tore back the sleeve of her uniform, revealing a small bandage on her forearm. “Everest said it was just a skin lesion from ultraviolet exposure on Earth, but I heard the Darksider engineer talking about how all the prisoners were sick, and I saw Juniper’s reports on the Aspergillus symbionts. He’s lying to me, just like he lied about Mars.” Shock cooled the simmering rage in Ash’s veins. Willow hid her arm again. “The old man’s been obsessed with Mars for so long that he can’t see any other path. He’ll keep us all here until we rot unless the Colony takes a new direction, from a new leader.” “You?” asked Ash flatly. “Us. Who better to found a settlement on Earth than GAEA’s two top terranauts?” Willow slid closer, dropping her voice to a purr, and tipped her

head at the guards behind her. “They’re ready to follow us. And our transport in the cargo bay is full of supplies for the trip. We’ve got the start of a whole new Colony.” The sultry look no longer stirred anything in Ash’s heart but disdain. “You always hated sharing the spotlight. Why would you want me along?” “Who else knows how to get us home?” She seized Ash’s hand and pressed the spot on his palm where the identity tag lay deep in the flesh. “You must still have Vator permissions from your Mars launch, or you couldn’t have come down from your shuttle. Just scan it and we’re off. If we leave now, we can be halfway to orbit before Everest even realizes we’re gone.” So that’s it. I’m just a ticket to Earth. Again. Ash glanced at Skye. High color along her cheekbones might have been shame or rage as she fought her captor, thrashing until the syzygy medal slipped free and swung around her throat. Except that Skye was trying to save hundreds of lives, and Willow just wants to save herself. “What about all the people who can’t survive on Earth?” he asked, still looking at Skye. Willow followed his gaze and her lip curled in contempt. “Organisms that can’t adapt go extinct. That’s nature. There are no prizes for saving antique DNA anymore.” “You still think this is a stupid GAEA competition?” “Survival is the biggest competition of all. You and I…we have what it takes to win.” Willow ran a finger along her mutated features, then reached out and traced the same path on Ash’s face. He recoiled from her touch. “I never did it to win,” he said, catching Skye’s gaze. “I did it to save people I loved.” Pale lashes flared, and for an instant she stopped flailing and stared back at him. Willow sighed. “I was afraid you’d be this way.” She made a curt gesture and the guard holding Skye primed his weapon. A wicked ruby glow pulsed

behind the barrel, reflecting in the syzygy medallion. “Authorize the ascent or your Darksider will get a few skylights to match her maria.” Skye’s laughter, inappropriately timed as ever, chimed off the ceiling. “I’m going to die on Luna one way or another. Get it over with.” “No! Don’t. I’ll do it,” said Ash, holding out a hand to stay the fire. “Will you at least let the other Tenax go with you?” “Lily’s feral animals?” Willow snorted. “Are you crazy? They’d probably kill me as soon as look at me.” “You’re right,” a baleful contralto snarled, and a red bolt lit the room. Willow screamed, clutching a scorched hole in her arm. Lily stepped from behind the docking bay door. She squinted along the barrel, blinking her double lids as if her eyes wouldn’t focus. “I’d like to bleach your bones in the sun and let my coywolves gnaw them to dust,” she growled at Willow. “But getting my crew home will give me more satisfaction. So let’s deal. Release Skye, help us get Hazel and our kids out of the Shack, and I’ll let you live on Earth. It’s a big continent—I don’t expect to see your face ever again.” “Wander the planet alone for the rest of my life?” Pain and loathing warped Willow’s face. “It’s not so bad.” “Maybe not for a recluse like you. I’d rather die here and get a hero’s memorial.” “I can get you halfway,” said Lily coldly. Her finger fumbled for the trigger. A crimson thread trickled from her nose. “Lily?” Trepidation hummed in Ash’s nerves. He stepped forward and caught her before her legs gave out. The rifle fell from her palsied hands. Thorn dove for it, but Willow flailed forward with her good arm, grasping the barrel. In the heartbeat of distraction, Skye snatched up her pendant and jabbed the point of Mars’ spear backward into her captor’s face. He recoiled with a yelp, loosening his grip. Skye shoved the gun away from herself and clamped the boy’s hand

onto the trigger. Red light drilled through the window. Air screamed out into the vacuum beyond. Clouds of escaping gas fogged the view. “Don’t just stand there! Get a patch over it before we all suffocate!” Willow yelled, and the guards shoved past one another to obey. Skye bolted out of the chaos, pale lightning from a cloud of dark uniforms, and skidded to a stop beside Ash. “Let’s go!” They each took one of Lily’s arms and hauled her to the rover. Thorn jumped into the pilot’s seat. Acceleration slammed Ash into the hull. He braced himself to secure a harness around Lily’s limp form. She glared down at her own body like some hostile organism she’d never seen before. “You should have left me there,” she muttered. “And you should have left me in that collapsing building at Goldstone, but you didn’t,” said Ash. “Teammates don’t abandon each other.” “We abandoned Hazel.” Thorn clenched the controls until tendons ridged the backs of his hands. “And now she’s a prisoner.” “We’ll be keeping her company if you don’t speed up,” said Skye, glancing out the porthole. The guard transport crested the hill behind them. A pair of smaller rovers with laser turrets appeared on either side. “She positioned others outside, expecting us to run!” Ash ground his teeth. “She plotted out the whole thing, just like on Earth.” “She didn’t beat us then. She won’t beat us now.” Skye fiddled with the comm unit and Willow’s voice exploded into the cabin: “—get him before Everest finds out he’s back! The rest of you, find where he stashed the others. They’ll be good bait if you can’t track his tag.” Horror burned through Ash’s brain. Snatching the knife from Skye’s belt, he yanked back his cuffs. She seized his wrist to stop him. “They’re tracing me, Skye!” “Yes, exactly.” A clever gleam ignited her eyes. “Thorn, head for the

shipyard.” “Quark that! I’m going to the Shack for Hazel.” “What about the others waiting with Santiago?” Lily demanded. “She’s hunting them! I’m not going to let anyone cage my brats again.” “Just go to the shipyard.” Skye buried her fingernails in Thorn’s shoulder. “Do you trust your captain or not?” Exhaling a string of Hazel’s favorite curses, he swerved onto a new course. The pursuers disappeared. Regolith churned under the tires until the Colony ship emerged from the horizon. Suited workers ferried parts into the vessel’s open hold. “Drive in there.” Skye nodded ahead. “The engineers will think it’s another one of our sabotage raids and set off their distress beacons,” Thorn cautioned her. “I’m counting on it.” One of the workers pointed at them and moved toward a nearby vehicle in awkward low-gravity leaps. A second dove into the ship’s cavernous hold and threw the manual release. The jaw-like doors began to close. Thorn gunned the rover forward. Front wheels left the ground and they soared up the ramp, clearing the doors with centimeters to spare. Brakes ground in the undercarriage and the front bumper slammed into the bulkhead. “It’s okay. A few dents will give the ship some character,” said Thorn with a feeble laugh. “I don’t think he agrees with you.” Ash glanced through the porthole at the trapped engineer, approaching the rover with a spanner clenched in one glove. The airlock light flashed green and the figure removed its helmet, revealing a gray-streaked ponytail and a wicked grin. “You’re supposed to warn me before you come tearing through my shipyard!” shouted Violet.

Relief cut the tension in Ash’s muscles so abruptly that he almost slid from his harness. “The ship’s bound for nowhere anyway,” he said, climbing out of the rover. “Halley smokes, I thought Hazel was joking when she told me you were back!” Violet crushed him in a hug as if he was a small child again, peering over his shoulder at Skye and Thorn. “She said you’d need me to bring the kids out soon, but never gave me the call.” “Because they caught her,” said Ash through his teeth. Violet’s face hardened into a wrathful mask. “When?” “Can’t be more than a few days ago. When I dropped her off at the base station, everything was fine,” said Thorn. “If I hadn’t gone so often, or stayed so long every time….” He slammed a fist into the unfinished bulkhead and swore when exposed rivets drew blood. Ash gripped Thorn’s arm. Tremors of fury and fear running through his twin’s body resonated in his own. “If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine. Willow wouldn’t have taken the station if she didn’t want to use me for age to Earth.” “But she already knew Hazel was helping us. We never should have let her stay in the stupid guard corps.” Thorn cast a wounded glance at Skye. “She hated it, you know—locking up people who criticized Everest’s new programs, enforcing supply cutbacks, patrolling the maria in the dark. But she never asked to leave, not once.” “We’ll make sure she leaves now.” Violet flung open an equipment locker and grabbed a pair of laser rifles. “You can’t go,” said Skye. “You have to call security and tell them the rebels are destroying your ship. They’ll send squads out here to save it. That should leave minimum protection in the brig so I can get Hazel out. If I fail, you’re still here to help her.” Violet looked mutinous for a moment, then clenched her jaw and nodded. Ash squeezed her hand. “We’ll get Hazel back, I promise.”

“You can’t go either. Willow’s chasing you,” Skye told him. “So give her something to chase. Lead her around the crater, then escape into the tunnel system and double back to warn Santiago.” And leave you again? Forget it. “I can’t navigate a maze of lava tubes I’ve never seen before,” said Ash, seizing on the first plausible objection. “You’ll have a guide,” said Skye, nodding at Thorn. He shook his head in a storm of dark hair. “No way. I’m rescuing Hazel.” “After your presence got her caught in the first place?” Thorn’s features contracted in resentment and pain. He took half a step toward Skye, then spun away, fists shaking. Skye softened her tone. “I already lost most of my team, Thorn. I can’t lose you, too.” She held up her right hand. “Besides, your tag will set off a security alert the minute you step into the habitat, but I’ll be invisible.” “Then how do you plan to get inside?” asked Violet, folding her arms. “There’s no outside terminal for you to hack open the airlock doors—you need a Colonist to get you through.” “Preferably one who doesn’t have to come out again,” said Lily, hauling herself from the rover at last. Blood around her nose gleamed against her clammy skin, but her dark eyes blazed. “I’m supposed to be chained up in Mare Ingenii. No one will be looking for me. You get Hazel, I’ll get Gen and the other kids, and if something goes wrong I can cover your escape.” “You’re not…” Ash began. “Strong enough?” Lily pinned him with her gaze, just like her old photo had once challenged him from the GAEA scoreboard. “Expendable.” “You know I hate cages, Ash. I don’t plan on breathing my last in the Shack.” Lily turned to Violet. “If the boys take our rover, we’re going to need another way to reach the crater.”

“Use one of our vehicles. Anyone who sees you will assume you’re part of my crew.” Violet beckoned her over to a small supply hauler, Thorn at her heels. Ash turned to Skye. “There must be a way to do this without splitting up.” “It’s our best chance to get everyone out of this. Besides—” she fingered the edge of his right hand “—if you still have Vator authorization like Willow said, it’s a failsafe for getting the Tenax home if anything happens to me.” Her voice was light, but the implications sent barbs though Ash’s chest. “What you said in the station….” “What I said in the station?” Skye arched one eyebrow at him. Heat consumed every cell in Ash’s body. Goddard damn it, I really am going to be residue from combustion. A deep breath subdued enough of the embarrassment to restore his speech. “Just be careful, okay?” “You’ve got more to worry about than I do.” The familiar crooked smile streaked across Skye’s face. “ what happened the last time a girl insisted you take her to Earth?” Flashes of memory burst in Ash’s mind: Skye smirking at him from a cell in the Shack’s brig; her wonder when she stepped out the Vator’s airlock; the unexpected power in her lithe frame when she tackled him on the radio dish; fighting side by side, tethered to a single filter; her dozing against his shoulder as the desert sunrise painted warm colors across her sunburned skin. The last time a girl insisted I take her to Earth, I encountered an organism so remarkable that I could study it for years. And now I’ve only got a few minutes. Ash looked into her face, archiving every angle and curve. Indigo eyes shone like oases after two years of red Martian dust. Her lips stood out in bold coral against her pale skin. How have I never noticed them before? Like flowers thriving in cracked cement on Earth. Resilient. Alive in spite of everything.

Suddenly the arm’s length between them seemed vaster than the fifty million kilometers to Mars. Blood scorching in his ears, Ash inched into the void. Skye tilted up her chin, almost defiant. A faint warm breeze of breath touched his face, then— “They’re not going to rescue themselves, Skye!” Lily barked. “Let’s go!” They both started and drew back. “We’ll meet you at the base station,” Skye whispered. Warm fingers slid from Ash’s hand. Light low-gravity footsteps faded across the bay, then she was gone. Someone tugged at Ash’s sleeve. “We’ve got a job, too,” said Thorn, prodding Ash back toward the rover. He paused to look back at Violet. “Are you sure you won’t come with us?” She shook her head. “No. Skye’s right—I’m more useful here. Maybe I screwed up the resistance with your parents, but I’ll be damned if I fail again.” Determination radiant on her face, she pulled the commlink from her belt and switched to the emergency channel. “Let’s make Fern and Alder proud.”

5

Generation

The Shack’s domes rose up from the stark horizon and the radar began its monotone panic. “Violet promised we’d go unnoticed in this contraption,” Lily growled, clenching the controls. Skye examined the instrument. “Maybe it’s just a glitch in the….” She glanced through the windshield and erased the rest of her sentence with a startled breath. Four security vehicles bounded over a rise ahead, spewing grey fans of regolith from their wide treads. Retrofitted laser barrels bristled on their roofs. They split off in pairs, diverting around either side of Skye and Lily’s hauler, and zoomed away toward the pole. Pulse hammering in her throat, Skye twisted in her seat to gauge their course. “Are they heading for the shipyard or the Vator?” Or the crater? “Who cares, as long as they’re not guarding the Shack? The fewer people on guard—” “I know. I’ve been living by that equation for almost two years.” “Yeah, I guess you have,” said Lily. When she spoke again the words came haltingly. “I haven’t had a chance to thank you for helping us.” “You don’t need to.” “Maybe not, but I should. Of all the species I studied, humans are by far the strangest—the Colony that called us heroes enslaved us, and someone who thought we were genetically impure scum set us free.” Lily snorted. “Why did you do it?” “Because no one deserves to spend their life trapped in those lava tubes.” “Like you did?” Extra eyelids blinked probingly at her. “Santiago told me how they treated you as a child, especially after your mother died.”

Skye sniffed. “Did he tell you how he didn’t stop them?” “Actually, he did, and he regrets that more than anything else. He’d do it over if he could.” “Then he’d better figure out how to engineer the laws of space-time. If I could go back and fill in the years someone wasn’t there when they should have been—” Skye closed her mouth before the rest of the turbulent feelings escaped. But Lily’s keen eyes stripped her to the bone. “You know, when you brought me back to the Vator hurt and I saw Rowan again, the anger almost shortcircuited my brain. Thinking he’d abandoned me, thinking of all the time we missed…but when I woke up in the med-bed, he was next to me. That was what I’d spent the last twenty-five years wishing I’d see when I opened my eyes. And suddenly I didn’t give a quark about the past. I knew we’d never get that back, but we could seize a bit of the future.” “What future? He died!” Skye blurted out. “And if Ash stays on Luna with me, it amounts to the same. He has to go back to Earth. It’s the only way he’ll have a real life.” “You Darksiders have been scraping by underground for so long, you’ve forgotten there’s a difference between existing and living. The fifteen years I spent on Earth alone were blank space compared with the weeks I got to share with Rowan. Or the days I had Gen before they took her away.” Dark determination flickered across Lily’s wan face. “A century of genetic engineering and we’re still just bipedal coywolves, howling for our packmates.” Unless you’re bred to be an island. Skye shivered as they steered into a dome’s shadow. Airlock apertures aligned and the rover’s door slid back, revealing the sealed habitat portal. Lily pressed her right palm to the scanner. It hummed and the Shack’s airlock opened with a groan. “Guess I’m still a Colonist, no matter how far I run.” Wiping her fingers on her jumpsuit, Lily swung through the port.

Skye followed her through the empty airlock. “We should get Hazel first. Then she can help us free the kids. Just stay out of the main corridor, or someone is bound to see us.” “That doesn’t mean they’ll recognize us.” Lily led her down a side age. “Most of them have never gotten a good look at you, and haven’t seen me since I was….” She stopped short, staring at the wall. Small images covered the lunarcrete in two neat lines. A dark-haired adolescent looked out from each one. Skye glanced at the plain metal plaque over the photo grid: Genetic Archive of Earth Ancestry - All-Time Leaders. With trembling fingers, Lily touched the second image in the top row, tracing the cheek of a girl with a scab on her lip—her own ghost, decades gone. Several dozen other terranauts surrounded her. Cedar and Amaryllis sat near the end of the Hunter line, their features still soft with the vestiges of childhood. Jasmine hung amid the Gatherers, wearing traces of humor Skye had never seen on her adult face. All the kids looked similar, but it was more than just the homogenous Colonist features: it was the brittle quality to their smiles and the vanishing points in their brown eyes. Only one picture hung to the left of Lily’s. Ash’s brown eyes gazed bleakly out at them, fixed on the distance. “Mother’s mantle, he looks so young,” said Skye. No wonder he swallowed every word I told him about Earth when we met. “We all were, at least on the outside.” Lily stepped back from her picture. “No generation should ever have to wear these expressions again.” She started down the hall without another word. Skye stiffened each time someone scurried past, but neither Colonists not Exiles glanced up from the floor. Everyone seemed tense, fearful of attentiveness to anything outside their immediate task. Last time I was here, everyone was talking about Earth and anthroforming. When did they get so quiet? What made them— “Hello, friends.” Skye jumped at the address and whirled to face Everest’s piercing green eyes.

“I ask that all of you convene for an assembly today,” said the old man, beaming a benevolent, pixellated smile from the video screen. It’s just one of his stupid broadcast messages! Skye forced down a few lungfuls of air to decelerate her heartbeat. “I know there have been some troubling tales told these last few days— rumors from our far side mines, malfunctions at the Malapert Mountain station—and I’d like the opportunity to explain everything,” Everest went on. “Please me in the auditorium….” “The one good thing about being chained up in the Sanctuary is that I didn’t have to listen to his damn lies every day,” said Lily, raking a scornful fingernail down Everest’s nose. She turned her back on him and said nothing else until they reached the security office. Skye pulled even with Lily at the door. “Wait. I’ve got a plan to draw away the guards and get inside the brig.” “Push?” asked Lily dryly. The door stood open a crack. No sound came from within. Skye pressed an eye to the gap—no officers sat at the surveillance s. She exchanged a skeptical look with Lily. Good luck, or a trap? Lily stationed herself against the frame. Drawing the knife from her belt, Skye slipped into the room. The cold metal of a gun muzzle pressed against her cheek from behind the door, but her taut muscles reacted instantly. Ducking the barrel, she spun and came up face to face with the attacker, her knifepoint beneath a familiar stubborn chin. “What kind of Goddard-damned rescue is this?” asked Hazel. Skye dropped the blade, relief flooding her body. “One you don’t need, apparently. How did you get out of the cell?” “I got a good look at the grate hinges when they slapped us in there after our last dive. Easy to pop with the right tool, so I’ve carried one ever since, just in case.” Hazel showed the slim, pointed object concealed in the hollow fold of her cuff. “As soon as I heard the guards leave for the shipyard, I

busted. But never mind that. You have to call off the ascent. Willow’s going to ambush you at the station and—” “She already did.” Skye allowed her friend a full five seconds of imioned expletives, then said, “It’s all right. Everyone got away. Ash and Thorn are drawing off the patrols so we can get the kids out.” “I hope Thorn learned something about evasive maneuvers when he pretended to fire on my rover before,” Hazel muttered. She jimmied open an equipment locker and pulled out a spare Hummingbird. “Won’t weaponry make us a little too conspicuous?” asked Lily, a hand on her hip. “Not if you’re wearing one of these.” Hazel tapped the badge on her sleeve. “It’s a more effective weapon than the gun. Stay behind me and you’ll be practically invisible.” She led the way out into the hall and her uniform repelled curious gazes like polarized magnets: wherever they walked, heads went down and people hastened their tasks, eager to move away. “I thought all your corps did was guard against Skye’s rebels and harass us in the maria,” said Lily as a muttering knot of blue tunics scattered in front of them. “We helped the regular security personnel maintain order on the Shack, too,” said Hazel grimly. “The kids yanked from GAEA were eager to make up points by issuing citations for unauthorized congregation or arresting someone for suspected conspiracy.” Skye gave her arm a bracing squeeze. “You don’t have to do it anymore, not now that they know your real allegiance. You have to come back with us.” “I’m not leaving my parents here!” “Bring them.” “I can’t ask them to live underground forever.” “They won’t be alone,” Skye murmured. The lunarcrete around her momentarily dissolved into a dim rocky tunnel, stretching into her future

with no light at its dark terminus. Shivers stole across her skin. “They keep the kids in here?” Lily’s voice drew her back to reality. The Health Centre’s sterile doors shone in front of them. Hazel nodded. “In one of the quarantine chambers. Except Gen—she’s in Juniper’s lab.” She palmed the door and they entered. No one sat behind the ittance desk. Skye moved past it into the quiet main ward. A voice from one of the patient cubicles sent all three of them diving behind the nearest screen: “…must be some natural alternative for the next stage of treatment. I’ll consult with Juniper.” The familiar drawl slithered down Skye’s spine. Peering around the divider, she watched Dallas’ white coat glide away. Metal chimed softly as Lily lifted a syringe from the nearby tray. Ignoring the frantic shake of Skye’s head, she crept up behind Dallas on silent predator feet. One arm darted around his neck and the other pressed the needle against his jugular. “I’m going to repay every one of these you ever stuck in me,” she hissed in his ear. The Darksider medic twisted his head delicately to meet Lily’s gaze. “The results might disappoint you. I don’t leave doses of lethal drugs lying around—that’s just a sedative.” “Too bad,” said Skye coldly. “I was hoping it was the same stuff you used on Jeddah.” She aligned her knife with Dallas’ nose, light coruscating off the blade. His smug expression faltered. “That old lunatic had outlived her usefulness.” “And you haven’t?” The knife tip lifted Dallas’ chin. A tiny dent appeared in the flesh where he quivered. “Maybe not. You were going to see Juniper —let’s all go together, and I’ll let you wear your miserable skin a little longer.” “You get Gen, I’ll get my mom and the other kids,” said Hazel. “No one should spot you in here, but take this just in case.” Tossing her

Hummingbird to Lily, she disappeared back into the hall. Skye prodded Dallas down the internal corridor to Juniper’s work suite. Dallas swiped his wristband over the scanner and Skye pushed open the door. The laboratory had changed little from her memory. Chemical scents still stung her nostrils, and glassware still sparkled among the instruments on the counters. But a very different figure stood before the screen, colorful diagrams tinting her curly hair. “Lu’an! What are you still doing here?” asked Skye. “We expected you months ago. Sydney’s been—” Lu’an turned sharply and Skye bit back a gasp. Fine scales shone on the tawny cheeks once dusted with freckles. “You…you’re Tenax?” Waves of numb disbelief scudded through Skye’s brain. “But how—” “Her genes have been violated,” said Dallas. He curled his lip in disgust. “Waste of a lovely girl.” “At least it kept your hands off me,” whispered Lu’an, the sunny face Skye ed now clouded with storms. Dallas smirked. “And everyone else’s too. No one will want your corrupted DNA in their offspring.” Tears welled between Lu’an’s double lids. “Children can overcome bad parental DNA—just look at your daughter,” Skye spat at Dallas. Her throat swelled over the words. “While you were experimenting on the Tenax, Chiba died trying to save them.” Dallas jerked his head toward her, emotion flaring in his eyes: not anguish or even disbelief, but pure contempt. That look animated Skye’s hand, driving the needle into his neck. Condemnation bubbled to his lips and faded unfinished as he toppled with a satisfying thud. Skye turned back to Lu’an. “Is this why you didn’t leave?” she asked gently.

“No one should see what I’ve become. I’d rather just stay here. At least I can keep researching Aspergillus and try to find a better solution for the others than…this.” Lu’an dug fingernails into her palm as if she could claw the unwanted alleles from her body. “But how did you survive the mutation?” Skye pressed her. “Was it Juniper’s fungicidal serum?” “No,” came a high-pitched reply from the adjacent room. Juniper stood in the doorway, carrying a baby on her hip. The child looked little more than a year old, but her brown eyes shone with an arresting depth. A sense of connection twitched inside Skye’s ribs. “Hey, little sister,” she murmured. “I bet you thought we’d leave you here forever.” “No,” Gen chirped again. “Damn right,” said Lily, snatching the girl from Juniper’s arms. Gen contorted her face in an almost comic mask of distress and began to cry. “Don’t howl, little pup—you me, don’t you?” Lily patted the baby awkwardly and glared at Juniper. “What did you do to her?” “I saved her life,” said Juniper. “Do you think Everest would waste resources on any of the Tenax children if I hadn’t argued for their value to our projects?” “She’s a kid, not a biology experiment,” Lily snapped. “Not that you could ever distinguish between the two.” “I see you still think all the suffering in your life was my fault. Well, perhaps this will satisfy your notion of recompense.” Juniper held up her right hand. A crescent scar shone on her palm. Her fingers gave small, spasmodic twitches at intervals. Skye’s own hand reached for the divot in her thigh, a souvenir of Juniper’s biopsy years ago. “If you think I’m going to pity you a little scar….” “Everest had my tag removed! I can’t move through the habitats or even leave my own laboratory without an escort. I’ve been as much a captive these two years as the Tenax in the mines.” Lines sank deep in Juniper’s

face, and for the first time Skye appreciated that the chief geneticist was nearly as old as Madurai. Acerbic vigor had always made her seem oddly ageless, but now she looked worn. “Why would he do that?” The dry husk of a laugh rasped from Juniper’s chest. “Because he couldn’t trust me after I field-tested the anthroforming project against his orders, but I’m too valuable to recycle. No one else has the knowledge to continue that work.” “Still trying to breed a better Martian?” asked Lily with a snort. “Oh no, I’ve developed a much more efficient method of adaptation.” Juniper glanced at the screen where Lu’an had been working. A magnified mold bloom, soft blue-green ringed with a feathery white corona, shimmered over the room. Skye caught her breath. “Spores?” “A simple, reliable means of induced somatic mutation. It’s a classic technique, actually. That’s how twentieth century scientists created genetically modified crops—using pathogens to infect a target plant with transgenes. Now we can apply that concept to anthroforming.” Excitement gleamed in Juniper’s eyes. “No more tedious germ-line modifications or unpredictable phenotypes or waiting twenty years to raise a generation of settlers optimized for their environment. We can accomplish it all with aerosolized gene therapy.” A nervous hope fluttered in Skye’s chest. “And you discovered how to make it work on people who don’t have the p53 anomaly?” “I didn’t—she did.” Juniper nodded at the baby crawling over Lily’s shoulder. “Gen is an appropriate name for her. She’s not just a new generation, she’s a new hybrid genome. All the other Tenax children were products of two parents who’d already undergone the mutation.” “But Gen had one of each,” Lily murmured. Grief misted her eyes and she held Rowan’s daughter tighter against her.

Juniper nodded. “Her DNA sequences showed me how our new genes, old genes, and the transgenes interact. With that, I developed a Spore varietal that will deliver both the p53 adaptation and the other transgenes to any host. I even tested it. See?” She nodded at Lu’an, who pulled up the collar of her green coat to hide her face. “A subject with an archaic genome can be adapted for new environmental conditions. Now the challenge is crafting a perfect blend of transgenes for survival on Mars.” “Adapting bodies is easy. What about minds?” asked Lily. “I helped dozens of kids through the mutation, and none of them took it gently. Jas is one of the toughest people I’ve ever met, and she tried to cut her own throat when she saw scales on her arms. Almost nothing upsets Xy, but he cried for weeks after I pulled him out of the pod. Multiply that by a few hundred people and it will be a disaster.” “Our settlers won’t be sniveling teenagers, Lily.” “Neither am I,” snapped Lu’an. “That doesn’t make it any easier, having to…mutate.” “You say ‘mutate’ like it’s a dirty word instead of a natural biological process. Just like the rest of this idiot Colony—no qualms about the Repro Lab growing nice, healthy babies for them to raise, but make a few discreet improvements and suddenly they’re so incensed that Everest needs a whole new security division to keep order.” Indignation shook Juniper’s bony frame. “He was so terrified of a second schism, he started trotting out that little weasel Willow to the virtues of genetic adaptation while I, along with the real work, stay shut up in here.” “Why keep working if he treats you like that?” asked Skye. “Because it’s not about me, or any one of us.” Juniper shot Lily a defensive glance. “It’s about saving ourselves from extinction. Whatever other conflicts we have, Everest and I always agreed on that.” “Then you know about Mars?” The geneticist’s sharp brown eyes narrowed. “What about it?” Skye explained the terraforming failure, and Juniper’s face turned as cold

and hard as the equipment surrounding her. “You mean he let me waste years creating organisms for a planet that can’t life outside a habitat?” she said through clenched teeth. “None of it has to be wasted.” Skye paused for a heartbeat, crafting her next words for maximum effect. “With your adapted Spores, we can still get off Luna and have a real homeworld. We’d be a living legacy to your work.” A knowing smile tugged at Juniper’s lips. “You engineer people’s responses the way I do their cells, girl. Shame you weren’t a terranaut—you might’ve made a tolerable apprentice.” She yanked open a refrigerated drawer and handed Skye a slim canister. “There’s enough aerosolized Spores in here to turn our whole population into Earthlings.” Including me! The cold metal seared Skye’s skin, but she clenched her fingers around the cylinder. “Between my science and your savvy, maybe our wretched species still has a chance,” said Juniper with a bitter snort of laughter. “No one can create a perfectly adapted organism the way you can,” Lily muttered, rolling her eyes. Juniper glanced at Gen. “I wouldn’t say that.” The two women blinked at each other a moment—Skye couldn’t tell who was more startled at the words. Lily’s mouth twitched as if verging on a smile. Then her lips drew back over her teeth and a quake ran through her body. Ruby droplets slid from her nose. She shoved Gen into Lu’an’s arms an instant before she crumpled to the floor. “It’s getting worse!” Skye dropped beside Lily and slipped hands beneath her head to cushion it against the lunarcrete. “Can’t you do anything about this?” “The symbiont withdrawal?” Genuine regret etched Juniper’s face. “Your friend Santiago made inquiries about that when he first went to oversee the maria. I can remove genes that predispose cancer—and I did in the new Aspergillus vectors—but I can’t cure it once it’s emerged.”

The door opened and Magnolia poked her head inside. “Skye, we’re ready when….” Her eyes fell on Lily. In a blink she crossed the lab and eased the stricken woman onto her side. Moments later the seizure abated into shallow, erratic breathing. Gen fussed, sensing the trouble, and Lu’an bounced her lightly. “Your mom’s all right, see? She’ll take you home soon.” “When are you going home?” Skye asked her. “Sydney’s always asking about you.” Lu’an shook her head, curls swinging around her face. “We were never going to be together anyway—it was just a fantasy.” Her gloom dispersed a little as Gen tugged her hair. “Too bad. I would’ve liked a kid like you someday.” “Keep her.” Lily wiped her nose on a shaking sleeve. “I’m a danger to my own Goddard-damned child.” “No,” said Gen, surprising force in her bubbly baby voice. She held out her arms. Lily grinned. “Guess you got a double dose of stubborn, pup.” She steadied herself on Magnolia’s shoulder for a moment, then gathered Gen into her arms. “What about the other kids?” “Outside with Hazel.” Magnolia turned a warm smile on Lu’an. “We could use your help getting them out safely.” Lu’an hesitated, then followed her out of the lab. Lily glanced back at Juniper. “What about you?” She shook her head. “Earth, Mars—they’re all just bad air and solar radiation to me. In my own way, I’ve become as adapted to my environment as any species I ever modified.” “You can’t stay here and let Everest keep using you!” said Skye. “I don’t intend to.” Picking up a tiny laboratory burner, Juniper carried it reverentially across the room and placed it beside the hydrogen generator.

“The universe began in a blaze. I can’t think of a more dignified way for mine to end. If I time it right, it will even provide a nice diversion for your escape and ensure my work survives. And isn’t that rather the point of the whole human experiment?” She and Lily appraised one another for a long moment, then each gave a tiny nod and Lily strode from the lab, careful to trod on Dallas as she left. Hazel stood in the hall with three impatient children milling around her legs: a girl of six or seven, a boy several years younger, and a toddler dozing with his head pillowed on the toe of her boot. “You said we were going to see Mom and Dad,” the girl said to Magnolia, folding her arms. “We’re going right now, Carina.” Magnolia made urgent shushing sounds at the squeals of delight. “But you have to be very quiet on the way out. Hold your brother’s hand and stay right next to me—Lu’an, can you carry Orion?” “You’ve taken good care of them,” Lily observed as the medic corralled the children. “It’s not the most exciting form of rebellion, but I was always better with a med kit than a Hummingbird.” She led them back through the main ward, two generations of footsteps pattering on the floor. “Dallas?” A groggy voice stopped Skye in her tracks. She peered into the cubicle where Dallas had been earlier. Madurai lay in a med-bed with the hatch open, half asleep with her hands folded corpse-like over her chest. Tubes ran into either arm, cycling blood through a filter. Prickles ran down Skye’s neck. “What’s wrong with her?” she asked Magnolia. “The eternal human ailment—aging,” the medic whispered back. “She’s determined to lead the Darksiders to Mars, but refuses most of the regenerative techniques Everest uses. No telomere therapy, no stem cell treatments—” “As obsessed with biological purity as ever.” Skye rolled her eyes, then drew

a sharp breath as disdain turned to inspiration. “If she knew pioneers would need adaptive mutations to survive on Mars, she’d never follow Everest. It would cause the second schism he’s afraid of, and maybe bring the rest of the Exiles to our side!” “We don’t have time for crusades,” said Lily. “You’re right. Go on without me.” When Lily opened her mouth to argue, Skye fixed her with a hard look. “I helped save your people. Now let me try to save mine.” “But you can’t even get across the Shack or into a rover without a tag,” said Hazel as Skye handed her the spore canister. “I’ll figure it out. I won’t be far behind you.” Magnolia turned off the med-bed’s sedation drip and patted Skye’s arm. “Don’t wait too long.” “I’ve already waited long enough,” Skye murmured as the others filed toward the medical emergency airlock. Half my life, really. That’s how I’ve spent the decade since you died, Geneva—trying to finish what you began. I’m not sure I know how to be anything else. But I want to at least try. Catching her reflection in the med-bed’s transparent hatch, she imagined a pattern of fine dermal scales across her cheek. “So my prodigal granddaughter returns.” Drugs softened Madurai’s curt voice, but it still made Skye jump. “I told Everest you’d tire of your childish resistance. Time among those mutant abominations has finally showed you the wisdom of the pure path.” Frustration and rage seethed out of Skye’s brain with such force she thought she heard her skull shatter. Not bone—glass! The sound came again, a crystalline burst of destruction ringing from Juniper’s lab, followed by the ominous whoosh of igniting gases. “Fire detected in Sector Two-C,” the address system announced coolly

overhead. Memories etched in adrenaline paralyzed Skye: the eerily resigned children clustered around Fern in the dark classroom; Ash gripping her hand, fingers damp with fear; rough metal seams biting her palms as she dragged him through the airless duct, every desperate breath searing her throat…. You probably deserve it, Grandmother. She glanced down at Madurai, woozy and helpless. But I don’t deserve to live with it. Seizing the bed’s handles, Skye hauled it out of the ward. The bulky contraption weighed more than she expected. Tendons in her damaged shoulder burned under the strain. She dragged the bed across the threshold —Madurai yowled as the closing doors clipped centimeters behind her head —and into the hall as the fire containment system sealed off the Health Centre and began sucking out its oxygen. Skye dragged the bed down the hall and into a quiet alcove. “Must you destroy things everywhere you go?” Madurai grumped at her. “I just saved your life,” Skye panted, gulping air to counteract the chemicals racing in her blood. “And I suppose you’ll want me to return the favor. Why else would you come back?” Green eyes skewered her, rapidly regaining clarity. “You’ve finally accepted that there is no future on this miserable moon, and you’re ready to accept your destiny on Mars.” “But are you?” Skye blurted out everything until her lungs were empty, waiting for her grandmother’s face to collapse into the familiar expression of betrayed revulsion. The same expression she used to wear every time she looked at me. It didn’t come. Madurai blinked placidly at her.

Is she too medicated to understand? “Did you hear me? The advance terraforming failed. Mars isn’t a new Earth—settlers will need transgenes to adapt.” “Not us.” Incandescent zeal lit every crag of Madurai’s face. She sat up and seized Skye’s hands, gnarled fingers clutching with uncanny strength. “You may be adulterated, but you are still the last of our line. Everest believes that line must continue. Who else has devoted their lives to preserving what’s left of the human race? Everest. My mother and I. And, in your own misguided ways, Geneva and you. We’ve all dedicated ourselves to the same cause, and achieving it is finally in our grasp.” “But how—” “Re your family and I’ll explain everything.” Madurai reached out and touched Skye’s cheek, making her shiver. “We’re not Exiles any longer, child. Our Ascension has begun.”

⁂

Another scarlet flare grazed the rover and Thorn cursed. “Now I know why Hazel was mad about our fake firefight,” he muttered, gunning up the slope of Shackleton Crater. “How many are there now?” Ash twisted in his seat to look behind them. Security vehicles flowed over the rugged grey plain, retrofitted turrets swiveling like deadly antennae. “Willow’s original three, plus the four Violet called, closing fast.” “Almost the whole Colony fleet! Perfect.” Thorn switched open the scrambled comm channel Skye had used earlier. “Still there, Santiago?” “Not for long—these atmo units can’t scrub air for dozens of people in a small space indefinitely,” the engineer grumbled through the static. “Where in the galaxy are you?”

“Taking the Shack’s security force on a sightseeing tour. Get everyone to the base station before they get bored.” “We can’t go far without Ash or Skye to activate the ascent program.” “One of us will be there,” Ash promised. Hopefully both of us. He peered over into the crater’s maw, projecting the terrible imprint of Skye plummeting into the blackness. Cold sweat prickled under his clothes. “I still can’t imagine how she got out of there,” he murmured. “You’re about to find out.” Thorn swerved into the solar array and braked a few meters from the rim. Throwing off their harnesses, the twins swung through the dual openings of the suitport. A forest of heliostats loomed overhead, metallic light cascading down their solar s. Laser scorches still marked some of the struts. This could be the same spot where the came down, the spot where I watched her fall…. A punch on the arm brought Ash back to the moment, and he threw his shoulder against the rover. Even in low gravity, its weight resisted him. His boots skidded on the loose soil. Breathless curses streamed through his earpiece as Thorn shoved all his force against the bumper. Inertia snapped. The tires shifted, and the vehicle slid over the rim. “Come on, before they spot us!” said Thorn, climbing down after it. Ash stared down the darkness, his breath loud and shallow in his helmet. If Skye can survive a fall into this pit, I can handle a controlled climb down to help her. Stomach pressed to the steep inner wall, he levered himself into the crater. One toehold at a time, he descended until he reached a thin crevasse. He followed Thorn inside and flicked on his headlamp. A long, bare age stretched beyond the edge of the light. “This goes all the way back to the Fringe?” asked Ash as they moved deeper into the lava tube. The narrow space forced them into single file, angled to keep their shoulders from scraping the walls. “And all over the South Pole-Aitken Basin. We can double back to the

shipyard underground without anyone tracking us.” Thorn chuckled. “Sneaking around uncharted places, relying on our masks and our wits….kind of like diving off the map, isn’t it? Never thought we’d get another chance to dive together.” “As long as it doesn’t end like the last one,” said Ash, shuddering at the memory of Thorn’s limp body sprawled on the de-con pod’s wet floor. “Nah, I’m not letting you ditch me on Earth a second time.” The laugh sounded tinny and strained through the earpiece. “I’m staying here.” Cold seized Ash’s insides. He grabbed Thorn’s shoulder and spun him around. “You have to go back.” “Why? You’re not, are you?” The tinted faceplates made a partial mirror, superimposing a dark phantom of Ash over his brother’s unusually somber expression. He watched his own mouth stir, but no denial came. “I like the Tenax, but they’re not my family,” Thorn went on in a heavy voice. “That’s you. Hazel. Violet and Maggie. Even Skye’s almost like my sister now. I don’t want to spend my life away from all of you.” “I won’t watch you die again!” “Then go back to Mars. Take Skye with you. Goddard knows she earned it.” Ash clenched his teeth. “Are you asking me to choose between you?” “No. I’m asking you to respect my choice. You of all people should understand why I’m making it.” Thorn tugged a fragile grin onto his face. “You didn’t get all the genes for idiotic bravery.” He cuffed Ash gently on the side of his helmet and turned back to the tunnel. Ash swallowed the burn in his throat and followed. The claustrophobic maze eventually led to a small skylight, and they climbed back to the surface. A rover idled a few meters away. “Security is still running circles around the rim,” Violet told them as they hopped in. “I think we’re clear, if we hurry.” She opened the throttle, nearly

lifting Ash from his seat. Even the ponderous buggy felt swift after dark tunnels, and it seemed only minutes before Malapert Mountain rose from the ground ahead of them. “They made it!” Thorn let out an exultant whoop at the sight of Santiago’s unwieldy trailer protruding from the docking bay. Ash’s fingers froze around his harness. “They’re not the only ones.” A second, smaller vehicle crept around the side of the station. But no cannon bristled on its roof, and a faded glyph on the hull made Violet catch her breath. “That’s a medical transport!” she exclaimed. “I’d bet my last liter it’s Maggie.” With who? And in what condition? Ash traded looks with Thorn and saw his own fear creeping across his brother’s face. Machinery growled in the tense silence as Violet pulled into the airlock and the aperture opened into the main station. Screams filled the cabin. Ash leapt out, heart in his throat, and saw a pair of dark-haired children tumble from the other transport. Carina flung herself at Ced; her father scooped her up, heedless of his bandages, while Caelum latched onto Ryll’s legs. The whole family clung together in a knot of joyful tears. Magnolia handed Orion out to Phlox and Xy, who clutched the toddler so tightly that he looked partially reabsorbed into his parents. “Smuggling key resources out of the Colony!” said Violet, feigning affront. “You filthy rebel.” Satisfaction glowed on Magnolia’s careworn face as she slid down into Violet’s arms. “I wasn’t going to let the Colony take our girl again.” “That makes two of us,” said Lily, appearing in the hatch behind her. She nudged the baby on her shoulder and Ash jolted in the stare of Rowan’s eyes, brown speckled with gold behind translucent double lids. “Hi, Gen,” he murmured, and she responded with a reflection of Lily’s renegade smile. “Wow, she’s….” “A little hybrid brat,” said Lily fondly. A fierce grin made her face look

almost healthy again. “Think the Colony would give me another award for originating a whole new sub-species?” “No,” said Gen, stuffing fingers in her mouth. Ash laughed. “I guess she inherited her parents’ attitude about GAEA.” “That seems to be the only word she knows.” Lily rolled her eyes. “Hardly surprising—Juniper always liked to correct people.” “A few months with this crowd will round out her vocabulary,” said Violet, grinning. Lily chuckled. “I think she learned a few choice phrases on the drive from the Shack.” “Why? Did security give you trouble?” asked Thorn, ing them. He peered anxiously into the vehicle. “An officer followed us back,” said Lily seriously. The boys stiffened in unison, then a tousled dark head popped from the hatch. “I’m not an officer anymore. I quit,” said Hazel, tearing the patch from her uniform sleeve. “Everest can stuff his Mars plan up his wormhole. I’m not taking another damn order from—” She broke off in a squeal as Thorn lifted her out of the transport and swung her around in a circle, heedless of the people who leapt aside from her flying boots. “Thank Goddard!” he gasped into her hair. “I wanted to come rescue you —” “I rescued myself, thank you very much.” “—but I’m the last person you need after I was stupid enough to blow your cover, hanging around the station all the time just because I—” An impatient kiss dissolved the rest of his apology. Ash turned away, searching the sea of happy reunions for one familiar island. He poked his head into the vehicle and almost collided with another disembarking enger.

“Lu’an, you came….” Words withered as scales on her forehead caught the light. But that’s impossible! “Lu’an?” Sydney’s voice, followed by his elbows, cut through the crowd. “Where have you been? Why didn’t you come back when….” He stopped, mouth open. Excruciating silence filled the space between them, dense and invisible as a black hole. Ash could almost hear the air molecules rend when Lu’an finally spoke. “I know I look different, but—” “Damn right you do,” Sydney cut her off harshly. “Your hair is shorter.” Lu’an blinked her haws, lips struggling to form words, and Sydney saved her the trouble, covering them with his own. Wetness shone on her cheeks when they separated. Sydney brushed it away, fingering the new dermal scales. “Madurai won’t want these in her breeding program. Guess you can pair with whoever you want now.” She laughed. “Wanna make some Earthlings?” “Didn’t I say I’d go with you anywhere?” “But how is that even possible?” asked Ash, reclaiming his voice at last. “The genetic anomaly—” “—doesn’t mean a quark anymore,” Hazel finished for him. She pulled a small metal cylinder from her belt, reminiscent of the air filters they’d worn diving. “Juniper made some kind of special Spores that can transform anyone.” She turned to her parents, beaming. “You can come back to Earth with us!” “We can, but that doesn’t mean we should,” said Magnolia quietly. Shadows hung in her soft brown eyes. “I don’t think I could live in a place where everything was collapsing around me.” “We’d better get you out of the Shack, then,” said Violet, kissing the top of her head. “It’ll be all right. It won’t be like when we dove.”

“You can’t promise that. We haven’t been on Earth in thirty years, Violet! We don’t know the first thing about surviving there anymore.” “No, but we do,” said Ryll, disengaging from her children long enough to touch Hazel’s arm. “You brought my family back together. If I can, I’ll do the same for you.” Hazel smiled at her, a touch of the brittleness melting from her expression. Back together. Ash’s mind conjured scales shimmering across pale skin and translucent lids blinking over deep blue eyes. If that stuff can adapt anyone…. “Where’s Skye?” he asked. Lily frowned. “She’s not here yet? She stayed to talk to Madurai, but I thought she’d beat us back.” She wouldn’t surrender if she knew she could go back to Earth. Maybe not even then. Something’s wrong. She’s been captured, or worse…. “Violet, could you start up that rover for me?” Without waiting for a reply, Ash ducked into the station’s control room. “I’m coming with you,” said Thorn, following him. “No, you’re not. It took Skye two years to get all the Tenax here—you can’t split the group when you’re this close to getting away.” Ash tapped a few commands into the console and pressed his palm to the screen. The interface flashed: AUTHORIZE ASCENT? He punched the confirm key. The screen split into a dozen small diagnostic s, showing completion percentages as the various components of the space elevator warmed and synchronized. Ash pointed at the display. “If we’re not back by the time this thing is ready to launch, go anyway.” “I’m not leaving without you,” said Thorn stubbornly. “And I’m not leaving without her.” Not again.

“Even if the patrols don’t pick up your tag, Everest will spot you the second you walk into the Shack!” “Good.” Ash glared at the array of green indicator lights and braced himself for the compelling stare of ageless emerald eyes. “He’s got some explaining to do.”

6

Destiny

Madurai’s skeletal fingers burrowed into Skye’s arm as they trudged toward the auditorium, but Skye didn’t pain. Beliefs imploded in her brain like ancient stars, a destruction so blinding she could hardly see the wall in front of her. Oh, Mother, how did I miss the signals? It all makes sense now, but…. “Everest will be so pleased to have you back,” said Madurai. “Do you really think he’ll forgive me for delaying the launch with my rebellion?” Her grandmother gave a silky smile, tossing back her long hair. It had turned from regolith grey to lunar white since leaving the Sanctuary, but instead of bedraggled clumps, it wafted across her frail shoulders as soft and sheer as moonbeams. “You will have opportunities to atone,” she said in a tone that raised bumps on Skye’s arms. “Starting with the assurance of our family line. I’ll study my genealogy records on the way to Mars and identify a suitable partner for you, so that in a few years—” “That should wait until the new planet is stable and sustainable,” said Skye quickly. “Mars is a desert. I’ve been to a desert on Earth and it’s not an easy place to grow things.” Nails dug into her skin, steering. “Let’s go this way. There’s something you should see.” An impractical detour led through to a double doors misted with condensation. Humid air poured out to engulf them. Strange, rich odors teased Skye’s senses. “What is that?” she asked, inhaling deeply. “Our future.” Madurai ushered her into a soaring glass dome. Bright polar

sun streamed through its walls, delivering light and heat to a potted jungle. Plants shot up from long trays and cascaded from complex hydroponic boxes. No green coats slipped between the rows—the horticulturists had already adjourned for the assembly. The only movement was the bobbing of stalks, the only sound the soft rush of irrigation systems. A broad, glossy leaf brushed Skye’s sleeve. She held it to her cheek. “I don’t the greenhouse being like this,” she murmured. “It’s expanded considerably in the past two years, thanks to our Archive.” Madurai lifted a flower’s drooping head as if forcing a bashful child to look her in the eye. “Reborn, because of our dedication to preserving pure species! Now imagine this spread across an entire planet—that’s the kind of world Everest and I will bequeath to you.” “At whose expense?” Skye whispered into a frothy sheet of moss. “You disapprove? Then take your inheritance from Geneva.” Wizened claws forced her against the dome’s glass shell. Dead grey soil stretched to a rugged horizon, beneath an oppressive black sky that seemed to swallow its own stars. “You were born in this moon’s cold, airless guts and you can die there,” Madurai hissed against her ear. “Or you can stop being a selfish little rebel for once in your life and embrace a larger goal, achieving more than any of us has for a century.” Skye’s breath misted the window, turning the landscape outside into a hazy binary of darks and lights. Her mind darted back to the GEO orbit station two years ago: sighing over North America and drawing Ash a treasure map through the condensation. “I….” Shadows stirred near the airlock outside, coalescing into a human figure. It turned, glancing behind to check for pursuit, and a flare of sunlight penetrated the helmet. Skye bit back her breath. No, not now! She looked quickly away, trying to redirect Madurai’s attention, but the old woman let out an affronted squawk. “Merciful Mother, what is he doing

here? He’ll ruin everything with his lies!” Releasing Skye, she staggered toward the security call button. A nimble low-gravity leap landed Skye in front of her. “A security incident would distract from Everest’s assembly. Let me deal with him instead. He won’t suspect anything from me.” She swallowed hard. “Consider it my first act of atonement.” Mad green eyes probed her to the core. Skye breathed steadily, looking straight back. At last her grandmother gave a curt nod. “Don’t leave a mess. It will serve the ascension if everyone believes he’s still on Mars.” “I understand.” The thin lips curled into a smile. “I’m glad you’re finally ready to accept the difficult choices. Our legacy is not an easy one, but someday they will thank us for what we did.” Madurai left the dome and Skye whirled back to the window just as Ash entered the airlock. He’ll be inside in a few minutes. She bounded across the greenhouse, leaves scraping her limbs, and found the small equipment room outside the airlock. A storage locker opened with a blow to the bent old latch; within, a laser rifle gleamed bright and new amid the other worn tools. Its casing leached cold into Skye’s palms. Pressing an ear to the door, she counted the seconds of hissing air. When it went silent, her heartbeat seemed so loud she was certain Ash could hear it through the barrier. Do it quickly, before someone sees. She rammed her elbow into the release button and the door rattled up. Ash turned, lifting the helmet from his head. Startled brown eyes found hers. The gunstock pressed its unforgiving edge against her shoulder. Mother, forgive me. Skye aimed, bit her lip, and pulled the trigger. A bright thread sliced across

the airlock. The surveillance camera in the far ceiling corner shattered. “There. That should buy you enough time to get away before someone else sees you.” Ash stared at the broken lens, then at her. “Did you think I was going to shoot you?” she asked, the words strangling in her throat. Ash tossed his helmet aside. “That’s the only way you’ll get me to leave without you.” She flung down her weapon and wrapped her arms around him. He hugged her back hard, the dense fabric of his suit crackling against her body. Everything—the years, the distance, the universe—compressed into a warm singularity. They held each other in their own gravity, a stable orbit amid the entropy outside. “I thought they must’ve taken you prisoner,” said Ash, pulling back at last. “Now that we have Juniper’s new Spores, why would you stay?” “To re my family.” Pallor spread over his bronze skin. “What do you mean?” “Playing the penitent was the only way I could get Madurai to talk.” Skye shuddered. “Oh, Ash, the new Spores are only the beginning.” She recounted everything Madurai had told her, Ash’s eyes widening with each sentence. “Ascension?” His brows drew together in a determined line, and he began tearing off the suit components. “We have to tell the rest of the Colony. If everyone’s already in the auditorium, we just have to get in before we’re caught and you can tell them—” “You think they’d believe me?” Skye snorted. “I’ve been their insurrectionist specter for two years. If I betray the family secret, Everest and Madurai will denounce me and the others will be happy to toss me out an airlock.”

“Then what are we going to do?” “You said we.” The old joke sang in Skye’s blood. She helped Ash remove the last suit pieces and outlined her plan. “There’s only one way that’ll work.” Sliding the knife from Skye’s belt, Ash drew a crescent incision around the pad of his right thumb. Crimson welled under the edge. Skye hissed in empathy. “What are you doing?” “Removing my chip,” Ash told her through clenched teeth. “I’ll have to move without anyone spotting me, and you’ll need a Colonist’s access to operate any of the computers.” “Yes, but you’re making a mess of it.” “I had to cut out Dill’s chip after he died, ? I can find the spot again.” But he struggled to maneuver the knife with his weaker hand. A viscous red stripe oozed down his arm. Skye took the blade in one hand, gripped Ash’s wrist in the other, and set to work. Blood obscured the wound. She probed as firmly as she dared. A soft sound escaped Ash’s lips. Not a whimper. A laugh. Glancing up, she found his gaze not on his mutilated palm, but on her face. He was smiling. “Even you aren’t martyr enough to enjoy this,” she told him. “It’s not that. I just ed that this is the first place I ever saw you.” He nodded at the airlock. “You’re forgetting the part where I attacked you out by the solar array.” “Yeah, but it wasn’t until security dragged you in here that I really got a look.” The memory surfaced, honed to clarity from two years of replay on the sleepless nights when no amount of insulated bedding could keep away the

chill….

…Murky figures stir beyond my faceplate. Captured and outnumbered, no going back now. Merciful Mother, let this plan work! Someone depressurizes my collar seal and I brace myself for whatever lies beyond. Madurai says Colonists are engineered chimeras, barely even human, but I’ve only seen them outside in their surface suits—plastic and polymer bipeds as featureless as the regolith under their boots. Rough hands lift off my helmet. I clench my molars to stifle any screams. The airlock comes into focus, and with it a boy’s face. His skin is dark tan like the bauxite from our maria mines. Black hair sticks up in all directions. Hardly monstrous. More nervous, maybe a little angry. He must be the one who happened across my path, the one I almost killed to infiltrate this ramshackle colony. That explains the fear in his wide brown eyes. But not the fascination….

Skye laughed. “I’m the strangest specimen you ever Gathered.” Ash smiled despite the blade still digging in his hand. “All those days I scoured Earth for the thing that would get us home, and it was on Luna the whole time.” “Don’t credit me with that just yet.” A dark sliver glinted in the shredded flesh. Skye pried the microchip carefully free and held it up to the light. “I forgot how small they are.” “Lose it and we’re quarked,” said Ash. “Put it in your pocket or—” Flipping the knife backward, Skye sliced her own right palm. “At least this hand is still good for something.” She slid the chip into the cut and wiggled bloody fingers at Ash. “I’m the hero now.” “You always were.” He sawed off his jumpsuit sleeve, tore the fabric in half, and bound one strip around her hand. “My permissions won’t get you a vehicle, but they’ll open doors and airlocks, so if you have a chance to get out, don’t wait for—” He broke off in a yelp as Skye pulled the second bandage tight against his wound to silence him.

“This started the day we walked in here together,” she said, tying off the wrap with more care. “If there’s any balance to the universe, it’ll end when we walk out together. Everything aligned. Syzygy.” She fished the planet medallion from beneath her collar. Ash spun it so the bright rings pulsed light like an erratic star. “I still don’t know why you kept this.” “Because you believed me when no one else did, ? This reminded me that if one person listened to me, so would others.” Removing the cord, Skye pinned the ornament to his jumpsuit. “They’ll listen to you, too.” “But if they don’t, things will get bad in a hurry,” said Ash. His heartbeat transmitted an anxious cadence through her palm. “If anything happens and we can’t meet up, don’t waste time looking for me. The computer won’t be able to locate me without my tag.” “I always know where to find you.” The old refrain tugged Skye’s lips into a smile as she touched them to his cheek. Faint electricity sparkled against her skin. Ash drew a sharp, startled breath through his nose. He stared when she pulled away, his eyes stunned and bright. A strident chime rang through the address system and both spun toward the door. “It’s just the assembly reminder,” said Ash with a shaky exhale. “Everest will be speaking in a few minutes.” Absorbing the last reassuring warmth from his hand, Skye let go and headed for the corridor. “I can’t wait to hear what he has to say.”

⁂

Crossing the Shack proved less difficult than Ash had feared. Stragglers hurried toward the auditorium, opening all the habitat partitions that would have been closed to him without a tag. None spared more than a

glance at a young man with his head down and his right hand hidden in the pocket of his jumpsuit. They think I’m just another recently grounded kid still dreaming of Earth. And they’re not wrong. The throng carried him almost to the wide doors, so close he glimpsed the seats filling up inside, then he slipped away down the adjacent corridor. Now his footsteps were the only ones echoing off the lunarcrete. The unremarkable door loomed at the end of the hall. Ash waited for the wave of nervousness to crash over him. It didn’t come. Instead of fear, each heartbeat pumped a new face through his mind: Thorn with his rebel tattoo. Hazel and her parents embracing in the airlock. Gen, with her father’s gilded eyes and her mother’s rogue smile. I have to get them home. Skye. Her blazing stare behind the rifle sight, her arms around his neck, her lips on his cheek. He could almost feel her the way he did his twin—a presence inextricably bound to his own atoms, tuned to the same distancedefying frequency. I have to get her home. Ash pushed the buzzer, leaving a bloody fingerprint on the button. No voice came through the intercom. Interminable minutes ticked past. The lock clicked so loud in the silence that he jumped, and the door shuddered wide to it him. Spectral light from the monitors outlined Everest’s silhouette in a blue corona like the outer layers blown away from a collapsing star. He spun slowly in his chair to face Ash. “Well, how was Mars?” he asked in a genial tone. “I didn’t expect you back so soon. Or, indeed, at all. It’s an unexpected testament to the success of anthroforming that you’ve proven so difficult to exterminate—I it, I never even expected you to return from that first unauthorized dive!” Suspicion crystallized its dark shards in Ash’s mind. “Then it wasn’t Juniper who ordered Willow to kill me at Goldstone, and it wasn’t Holly who tried to drive me and Skye into Shackleton Crater. It was you. You….” He bit back his breath. “You triggered the fire protocol in the classroom,

too, didn’t you? My mother died because of you! Halley smokes, you would’ve murdered those kids just to get rid of me?” “No one would have regretted the waste more than I, but sometimes great sacrifices are necessary,” said Everest. “I couldn’t allow you to divide us with false promises of Earth, not when we were so close to our goal.” “But we weren’t!” Ash clenched his fists. “You lied to us about Mars.” “Not at first.” A spotted, papery palm raised in a contrite gesture. “You’re so young, Ash. You can’t possibly understand how we came to this. When we first found ourselves exiles on Luna, our only solace was knowing my company had dispatched terraforming bots to Mars before Sporespread, and that this wretched mining colony was only a waystation on our journey to a new home. Every transmission the machines sent back—every stripe of tilled soil, every faint dusting of green—gave us hope to keep surviving.” “But it failed.” Everest nodded sadly. “After a few years, the images stopped showing progress. Then they stopped altogether. What could I do, Ash? Doom us to despondency and extinction? Or fabricate a few pictures to keep us moving forward until we were able to transform the planet ourselves?” “You did more than just alter a few satellite photos. You altered us.” Ash held his fingers against Everest’s for illustration. The contrast between their skin reminded him of Mars and Luna. One all but dead, and one that might still have a distant chance at life. “Is that the real reason the Darksiders split? Because they didn’t want you messing with their genes?” A strange sound rasped from the old man’s throat—bitter, triumphant laughter. “Did you imagine any child of mine would succumb to some irrational impulse and forsake her species? We orchestrated the schism to isolate a control group of human specimens, in case the anthroforming went awry. Stella, my clever girl, invented the whole Exile ideology to ensure the group would preserve the integrity of their genomes. Rose’s birth was the perfect excuse for her apparent desire to resume nature’s order.” Everest shook his head, grief tracing old furrows in his brow. “She made a tremendous sacrifice—we both did. I knew I’d likely never see my daughter or granddaughter again.”

“Madurai knew, too?” asked Ash. That would explain why she hated Skye for her genes. “No. It was supposed to be a covenant ed down the family line of Speakers, but Stella died before she could explain to her daughter the true purpose of her beliefs.” An indulgent smile turned up the corners of Everest’s mouth. “Rose’s beliefs were as pure as her genes. Enlightening her when she came here was…a challenge. But she reconciled.” “Yeah, you really won her over with your plan for Ascension.” Ash articulated every syllable with cold precision. “Do you think the Colonists will be as excited that you’re adapting them into Martian workers to build a new world for your pure elite?” Computers hummed into the silence. Everest leaned slowly back in his chair, furniture and exoskeleton creaking in harmony. “Social stratification is a natural part of human behavior. Before there were Hunters and Gatherers in GAEA, those roles existed in our earliest tribes. There have always been serfs and monarchs, proletariat and aristocrats, working and ruling classes. Such hierarchies ed our species’ greatest empires and most magnificent achievements.” He tapped the keyboard and the sparkling Bach melody Skye had once hummed in the rain shimmered from the speakers. “I invested decades of my life in petty technological innovation, and only marooned out here did I realize that this is what it means to be human—to create enduring works that reveal our spirits and speak to generations after us. Without such things, we’re merely apes sharpening sticks and digging in the dust.” “That’s exactly what we’ll be, terraforming Mars,” said Ash. “Why not let everyone start over on Earth instead?” “We cannot build a new future on the ruins of the past. Our world was dying long before Sporespread, Ash. Aspergillus may have been the proximate cause of humanity’s destruction, but it only came about because conflict and greed had pushed billions to the brink of starvation. If we returned to Earth, we’d inevitably fall into those old patterns. No, we must have a blank canvas for our civilizational masterpiece.” Everest closed his eyes briefly, savoring the vision. “Who knows? Perhaps one of Skye’s

descendants will compose the Sinfonia sottomarina a Europa, carve one of the Kuiper belt asteroids into a magnificent orbiting sculpture, or write the authoritative history of humanity’s migration through the solar system. And your descendants will enable all those accomplishments.” My descendants. A curious figure appeared in Ash’s mind: a little girl with dark hair and bronze skin, unmistakably a Colonist kid, running across a field of red dust. She looked so real that Ash took half a step forward to catch up. As though she’d heard him behind her, the imaginary child turned to smile at him, and his heart quivered in the beam of her deep blue eyes. What kind of life would she have in Everest’s universe? Could she come to life at all? The familiar eyes dissolved, leaving Ash to stare into beseeching green ones. “Don’t you want those generations to rise above this crude survival state and truly embrace their humanity?” asked Everest, almost plaintive. “Not at the expense of someone else’s humanity,” Ash growled. “Why don’t you ask the people waiting in the auditorium how they feel about being the human replacements for your rusted terraforming bots?” “They certainly deserve to know that tremendous efforts lie ahead, but I’m not the appropriate person to explain that.” The old man nodded graciously. “You’re the only one of us to set foot on Martian soil. I think any discussion of our future there would be best led by you.” “I didn’t come here to be complicit in any more lies.” “Other than those you’re already perpetuating?” Turning back to the console, Everest entered a few commands. Schematics reeled on the screen and came to rest on a bright dot. “A noble gesture, transferring your identity tag to enable someone else’s escape. But I’m rather disappointed that, given how you discovered the Tenax, you forgot how the tags collect biometric data.” Another tap brought up a table of glowing, irrefutable numbers. Dread sank its cold jaws into Ash’s heart. “Are you an eighteen-year-old female, Ash?” asked Everest, his voice as cool and smooth as the brackets ing his limbs. “Our Colony has suffered considerably from Skye’s misguided insurgency these past two years. I

imagine security would remove her with…enthusiasm.” The whisper carved up Ash’s throat. “Leave her alone.” “Hasn’t she been alone long enough, Ash?” Everest steepled his fingers. “Orphaned, ostracized, then finally abandoned by the only person she’d dared to call a friend.” The jab punctured Ash’s insides more acutely than a Hornet’s beam. “I can give her the family she always wanted, elevate her to her rightful position as a child of old Earth, crown her queen of the new world and planets beyond. But that’s not my decision,” said Everest. “It’s yours. Testify before the assembly that Mars is suitable for habitation, and Skye won’t be harmed. Refuse, and perhaps she’ll have another opportunity to explore the bottom of Shackleton Crater.” Ash swallowed hard. Is there any scrap of human heart left in his broken old corpse? “She’s your great-granddaughter.” “The last of my family line. It would pain me to see her hurt, but I can’t put the welfare of a single human—even my own blood—over that of hundreds of others who rely on me for survival.” Everest’s expression darkened. “She would not be the first person in my family I’ve given up for the good of our species.” Standing in a sigh of gears, he made his ponderous way to the door at the back of the chamber. He turned to look at Ash, one eyebrow arched in inquiry. Blood pumped hot and fast through Ash’s fists. There’s only one thing I can do. Luna’s sparse gravity seemed crushing as he crossed the chamber to stand beside Everest. Thin, spotted fingers fluttered onto his shoulder and the old man murmured a scrap of verse: “O fear not in a world like this and thou shalt know erelong, know how sublime a thing it is to suffer and be strong.” The door slid open, caging them together in a rectangle of light from the

auditorium. A blurry sea of faces waited beyond. Madurai smirked in the center row. The retractable inner dome had slid back, leaving the outer glass shell exposed to the stars. Silence fell as Everest glided forward, exuding congeniality. “Even after a hundred and fifty years, the universe still finds ways to surprise me, my friends. I’d planned to talk to you today about our journey to Mars, but a guest just arrived who is much better qualified to tell you about our new homeworld than I am!” Smiling, he drew Ash forward. Six hundred pairs of eyes snapped onto him. The crowd was half again as large as the one he’d faced at fifteen, standing on the exact same cracked floor in the stage while Everest pontificated about the GAEA record. I was too upset about Thorn getting red-ringed and too high on Edge to notice anything until Everest presented me that stupid syzygy medal…. Ash glanced down at his uniform. Silver loops winked back at him. The imprint of Skye’s fingers still warmed his chest where she’d pinned it on him. “Mars is….” Ash raised his head and looked out at the assembly. “Mars is exactly what Everest told you it is.” He gestured to the massive video screen behind him. Instead of fabricated satellite photos, it now showed the empty chair in Everest’s chamber. As if on cue, the feed paused and rewound, and Everest materialized back in his seat to address the camera he hadn’t realized was recording: “There have always been serfs and monarchs….” The real Everest stood so still that Ash wondered if his exoskeleton had run out of power. “I didn’t give Skye my tag so she could escape. I gave it to her so she could hack the computer system and activate your broadcast feed,” Ash told him. “Our conversation just played on every screen in the Shack.” Shadows deepened the lines of Everest’s face, but his expression retained its complacency. “Hardly a catastrophe. Now everyone can appreciate the parts we all must play in ensuring our species’ continuation.”

“You mean as slaves to your inbred Darksiders?” cried someone in a white medic’s uniform. Ash recognized Pyres, his pinched face alight with indignation. “That hideous word has no place in the Ascension plan,” said Everest. “Slaves are people taken against their will—uprooted, transplanted, forced into menial service beneath their dignity. You face no degradation, only destiny. Instead of struggling to find your place as humans have traditionally done, you will know the satisfaction of fulfilling the purpose for which you’ve been designed.” “Our DNA is not our destiny!” The chrome voice rang from the back of the room; Skye stood framed in the doorway. Relief and resolve soared in Ash’s chest. In the beam of her triumphant smile, he addressed the gaping assembly without a stutter. “Mars isn’t your only choice. Juniper created Spores that can adapt anyone for Earth, like the Tenax. It won’t be easy on either planet, but I think everyone should decide their own path.” “You’re advocating a second schism!” Everest’s yellowed teeth flashed in a snarl. “I can’t allow it, Ash. It will compromise any hope of survival.” “Why do you think it’s your responsibility to save us?” “Because he’s the one who almost destroyed us,” said Skye softly. She shifted her gaze to her great-great-grandfather. “You told me once that your company invented all sorts of things intended to solve Earth’s problems, like genetically engineered crops. That’s what gave rise to Spores, isn’t it?” The dome’s acoustics bore her hard, quiet words to every ear in the auditorium. No one breathed. “That was never supposed to happen,” Everest whispered, moving nothing but his dry lips. “We ran so many tests, developed so many safeguards to ensure we had a flawless product. But we couldn’t for how other organisms might engage with it.” “Like Aspergillus?” Ash prompted.

The old man gave a tremulous nod. “By the time we realized what had happened, Spores had spread around the world. My wife died on Earth trying to stop the catastrophe that our work had engendered. And I’ve spent a hundred years on this empty moon, trying to preserve the species I almost erased from the universe.” A spiraling sound—half sob, half scream—echoed off the dome. Madurai sprang up in her seat. “You cast us out from our Mother?” Everest raised trembling hands to calm her. “Rose, please, you must understand—” “I understand that you violated her creations and condemned us all to the void!” She shook so hard Ash thought she might tumble down the tiered rows. “I should never have let you lead us astray. We will return to Mare Ingenii!” “You can’t survive there now,” Skye told her. “Tomsk destroyed the bioreactor—there’s nothing to breathe.” Madurai clapped hands over her ears. “We will wait in our Sanctuary, like seeds underground, for our time to bloom!” “We will still ascend, Rose!” said Everest, raising his voice for the first time. He waved a brittle arm over the crowd. “They cannot leave the Colony, much less Luna, without my permission. I control the vehicles, the space elevator, the ship….” Shade engulfed him and plunged the assembly into dimness. Heads snapped up with a collective gasp. A massive shape hovered outside the dome, blocking sun and stars alike with its grey bulk. Ash took a reflexive step backward. Halley smokes, it’s the Mars ship! “The ship will take us back to the pole,” Skye called over the chatter. “If you really want to ascend, the lunar Vator is ready to launch for Earth.” Hundreds of feet hit the lunarcrete floor. Some fought toward Everest—he barely managed to retreat into his chamber before the first irate Colonists reached the stage—while others sat stunned. A few clustered around

Madurai, a wailing island in a shrunken sea of followers. The rest swarmed the auditorium doors. Ash charged up the stairs to Skye. “This wasn’t part of the plan!” Victory blazed pink across her cheekbones. “I thought of it while I was meddling with the broadcast system, so I signaled the base station. It was a wild idea, but….” She laughed, gazing through the dome to the stars. “Hasn’t it been from the start?” Ash cupped a hand behind her head and kissed her. Restless warmth surged against him, wet with a saline glaze. Finally, I know what the ocean tastes like. The throng flowed around them, but for the first time in his life Ash didn’t care how many people stared at him. Skye clasped his good hand, broke gently away, and led him into the crowd. His boots barely touched the floor, the human tide sweeping him all the way to the airlock. Violet’s voice filtered through the speaker system, static frothing her cheerful tone: “Strap in, Earthlings, and hope they haven’t left without us!” Ash threw himself into one of the folding launch seats and secured his harness. The ship rose with a groan. Loose bolts rattled ominously behind the incomplete bulkhead plating. Skye still held his hand, her heightened pulse pumping courage into him. The Shack shrank below—Violet gave them just enough height to clear the battered domes—and they shot off across the basin. Shackleton Crater yawned hungrily at them through the porthole, then vanished. Ash pressed Skye’s fingers tight in his own as the Vator cable emerged glimmering from the darkness. We did it. We’re going back to Earth, and I’ll get to hear her sing to the sound again…. Scarlet light flickered against the grey landscape below, and Ash didn’t have time to yell before the first laser bolt punctured the hull.

7

Ascension

Profanity cascaded through the speakers, half-drowned by atmospheric gases spewing from the hole overhead. “That was my stabilization fin, you little—” Ash wiped the clouds of his own panicked breath from the porthole. Camouflaged in a rocky cleft opposite the station lurked Willow’s vehicle. Another volley flashed, but Violet anticipated it and rolled sideways. Malapert Mountain veered close—Ash yelped as the Vator cable ed so close to the window he could have touched it—and the ship lurched back to the surface. Regolith spewed along its sides. Shudders ran through the hull, then stillness. Violet stumbled out of the cockpit and patted the bulkhead. “Good thing it’s a one-way trip.” Kicking open the emergency docking tube, she connected it to the station hatch a few meters away and beckoned everyone inside. Thorn whistled as engers stumbled past him. “Must’ve been one hell of a speech, Ash—the Vator won’t take this many people.” “Then we’ll make two trips. Fill whatever capacity is left after the Tenax board, and when you transfer to a shuttle at orbit, send the cabin back down. The rest of us will follow.” “Us?” Thorn narrowed his eyes. “I told you, we’re not leaving you.” “You’re not. You’re just going first, like always.” Ash gripped his twin’s shoulder. “You always led the way—don’t stop now.” Thorn looked at him for a long moment, then nodded and turned to the anxious knots of people. “All right, everyone, the ex-terranauts here will how this works….” Leaving him to coordinate, Ash followed Skye into the control room. Lily scrolled through launch diagnostics with Gen on one hip, stretching tiny

fingers toward the colorful buttons just out of reach. “More engers aboard than it’s had in a century, and it’s not happy,” said Lily, grimacing at the readout. “But I think it’ll last two more trips.” “Not with Willow outside—one hole in the climber cabin and we’re all spacewaste.” Slinging herself onto a stool, Skye opened a comm channel and growled into the mic. “I thought you terranauts won honors for preserving species, not driving them to extinction. If you give a quark about human survival, Willow, stop firing—half our population is packed in here.” “A few hundred pieces of human terraforming equipment,” Willow replied mockingly. “It would be very inconvenient for Everest to lose so much capital.” “So you heard the assembly broadcast?” Ash leaned over Skye’s shoulder. “And you’re still on his side?” “The only sides in this game are winners and losers,” snapped Willow. “And I’ve got a better hand than the old man. I’ve Gathered a lot of valuable specimens here—maybe I can exchange them for my own Earth colony.” “Being queen of Earth is overrated,” said Lily dryly. lights painted auroras on her strong, weathered face. “Only if you don’t have any subjects. I’ll take the Tenax, Everest can have the rest, and we’ll each have our own planet to rule. It’s probably smart to split up anyway, in case he accidentally engineers a new Sporespread on Mars.” Willow giggled. “Look at me saving humanity, Ash.” “You won’t save anyone by shooting at us,” he said. “Oh, I’m not going to hurt you. I’ll just keep you sealed up like any other samples until I can trade you in for a top spot.” Shouts from the room outside sent Ash flying to the doorway. Raw space shone cold through the airlock as laser fire shredded the docking tube. Santiago hauled on the manual control. It stuck after years of disuse; Ash grabbed on and together they cranked it closed.

“She’s cutting us off from our vehicles to trap us here,” Ash panted. “The trailer!” Santiago cursed and slapped a palm on the window. The long cargo vehicle protruded from the docking bay, an ostentatious target. “It’s still carrying those tanks. Compressed hydrogen and oxygen…if Willow hits it, the South Pole will have a new crater, with us at the bottom.” Horror flooded Ash’s veins. He scrambled back to the control room, Santiago on his heels, and punched the transmission key. “Willow, stop, that trailer’s full of—” Lily slapped her hand over the mic. “Let her find out the hard way.” “By blowing us up?” asked Skye, incredulous. “Not all of us.” Ash caught his breath as the implication struck. “No. Absolutely not.” “You’d rather she tear the station in half and let hundreds of people die in vacuum?” Lily shook her head, the white blaze in her hair flashing across her face like lightning. “I’ll drive up behind her, she’ll panic and fire….” She clapped her hands together and floated them apart to illustrate. “Then you’ll have a clear path for ascent.” “Let me do it,” said Santiago. “You have to lead your clan back to Earth.” “For what, a week? A month? I’ve had my turn. Now I have to give someone else a chance.” She held Gen up in front of her, gazing soberly into the eyes inherited from Rowan. “They took your parents, pup, but I’ll be damned if I let them take your planet.” Tears welled under her lashes as she kissed Gen’s head, burying her face a moment in the fine dark hair. Then she turned to Santiago and held out the baby. “Take her.” “What?” He stared at Lily, mouth open. “Earth’s a rough place. She needs someone to look out for her.” Lines unfurled across Lily’s brow as if each word took conscious effort to speak. “Please. You’re the only friend I’ve had in a very long time. I wouldn’t ask this of just anyone.”

“You know what a lousy parent I’d be.” Santiago cast a wincing look at Skye. “Only if you’re too scared to try, like you were with me,” Skye hesitated, then gave his hand a brief squeeze. “Do better for my sister.” Santiago turned back to Lily, twisting the ends of his beard. “Are you sure I’m the person you want to trust with her?” “Yes,” said Gen emphatically, blinking her double-lidded eyes at him. Santiago gave a startled smile, one of the few Ash had ever seen him wear. He lifted the baby gingerly in his callused hands. “Just that you agreed to this,” he told her, nestling her in his elbow. “Unless you come with blueprints, it’ll take me a bit to figure out how you work.” “I’m sure you can handle one mutant brat,” said Lily. “I managed to keep dozens of them alive.” “And they’ll do the same for you,” said a hard voice behind her. Spinning around, Ash saw Ryll in the doorway, hands clamped on the frame as if she could barricade the exit with her body. Fear tightened her face. “You can’t send us back to Earth without a leader.” “I’m not,” said Lily pointedly. Ryll shook her head. “I can’t lead anyone, Lily. I’m just a clueless kid you pulled out of the desert.” “The first clueless kid. Who learned fast, never lost her cool, and helped everyone that came after her when I didn’t feel human enough to deal with them.” Lily took the younger woman’s face in her hands and fixed her with an almost parental look of stern affection. “Do you know where the name Amaryllis comes from?” “Some extinct flower on the Colony’s name roster.” “It was the common name for flowers of the genus Hippeastrum,” Ash murmured.

Lily nodded. “Hippeastrum—knight’s star. That’s what you’ve been from the moment I pulled you from that pod. A protector, the pole star people can follow.” “I can’t replace you,” whispered Ryll. A tear traced through the fine scales on her cheek. “No, and you shouldn’t try to. Not when you’re already a better alpha than I ever was.” Biting her lip, Ryll released the doorframe and clasped her arms around Lily’s neck. Lily went rigid for a moment, startled, then the steel in her spine gave a little and she returned the hug. Ryll wiped her eyes as she pulled away and turned to Santiago. “If you hurry up, Ced will show you how to change her before we launch.” Lily barked her raw laugh and herded the three of them into the corridor. Leaning against the doorframe, she watched them disappear with a wistful look. Ash touched her sleeve. “Lily, you don’t have to do this.” Emerald light from the control softened her face and brought out vestiges of the portrait etched in his childhood memory. “I’m just going off the map again, Ash.” “I hear that’s risky,” he mumbled, trying to smile. The fine scar on Lily’s lip shone as she grinned back. “It’s also the only way to discover anything new.” She rested a hand on his shoulder a moment, then ducked out of the control room without another word. Strength ebbed from Ash’s legs. He collapsed on the stool beside Skye. Is this how Rowan felt every time we left for a dive? Trapped behind a screen, knowing people would be hurt but helpless to do anything about it? “There has to be another way,” he murmured, staring at the empty doorframe.

“Was there when you took off your mask at Goldstone, or when I invoked Judgment of the Stars in Mare Ingenii?” Pale waves of hair tumbled forward to hide her damp eyes as she pulled up the external video feed. The cargo trailer appeared in grainy duotone, undocking from the station. It shrank to a featureless grey point on the featureless grey landscape. A bark through the open comm channel made Ash jump in his seat. “The universe has some sense of humor, Ro. You tried to scrap yourself in a rover when you thought I’d died on Earth. Now you’re at the bottom of the sea, and look how I’m going to go.” Lily sighed through the static. “This thing had better blow high enough to send my particles all the way back to you.” Ash reached out to turn it off, to block out Lily’s intimate last conversation, but tears blurred the into a bright smear and he couldn’t find the button. “At least no one can keep us apart when we’re just elements. We can be the grass that Gen sleeps on or the rain that touches her face. We can fly across the galaxy as ice crystals in a comet’s tail, or burn forever in the heart of a star. Hell, we can do them all at once.” Lily’s sniff dissolved into laughter. “All those years we worried about survival, we forgot that matter is immortal.” Ash bit his lip so hard it drew blood. Fingers found his, Skye’s hand a lifeline in the suffocating grief. A new voice burst onto the channel. “Where do you think you’re going?” Willow’s words had a nervous edge. “Go back or I’ll shoot. I won’t tell you again.” A human’s uncanny interpretation of a coywolf’s howl erupted through the speakers, wild and mournful, with a hint of remorseless joy in its cascading octaves. The sound ran down Ash’s spine and resonated deep in his bones. A series of small flashes popped on the far side of a bluff, then a blinding tower of light consumed the entire screen. Ash clenched his eyes shut, bright blue coronae throbbing inside his lids. When his vision returned, the image had returned to binary: black sky, grey soil, unaltered by the sudden dissolution of human lives.

Every breath seemed too fast, every heartbeat too slow. Ash moved through a stupor and activated the station’s address system, his own voice ringing strange in the new emptiness: “Lily just launched us. Everyone who’s making the first trip, get on board —I’m going to start the countdown.”

⁂

They straggled over the ridge, four of them, the smallest figures almost floating in microgravity. I can’t believe they’re still coming. Ash slowed his rover and opened a hailing frequency. “Need a lift?” He helped the refugees through the suitport: a Colonist boy who might have been just old enough to start GAEA, a Darksider girl several years younger, a woman who looked like her mother, and finally a man in a blue civic division tunic, his bronze face shining with exertion and relief. “Thank Goddard!” he exclaimed, shaking Ash’s hand. Ash vaguely recognized him as an old colleague of Fern’s. Aster, that’s it. “Two of the suits had already sprung leaks, and we’d used up the patch kit before we crossed the crater.” “I don’t think they were made for walking a hundred and twenty klicks of rough terrain,” said Ash. “There wasn’t much choice—most of the vehicles were taken after the assembly. Luckily Tori here could modify suits to fit the kids.” Aster nodded at his companion. Tori doesn’t sound like a Darksider name. Ash raised an eyebrow at the woman.

She shrugged. “Pretoria. The other engineers on the Shack shortened it for easier comms. I didn’t like it at first, but when the Speaker yelled my name to summon me back to the Sanctuary….” She shuddered and laid a protective hand on her daughter’s head. “That isn’t me anymore.” Like the Tenax and their abbreviations. “So you left?” asked Ash. “Everest wanted the engineers to shut off the water and the civic personnel to deny rations. Thought he could starve everyone into cooperating,” Aster explained. “Neither of us liked that idea much, so we sort of teamed up to escape.” Near side, far side, allied. Ash smiled to himself. “We’re not too late for Earth, are we?” asked the boy. Ash imagined him as a weed, skinny and overeager in a new green uniform. “Nope. The cabin should be reaching orbit soon, then it’ll come back down for us.” “What’s Earth like? What part are we going to? Will we still look for new species?” “You’ll see soon enough, son. Don’t pester him.” Aster gave Ash an apologetic look and added in an undertone, “He’s been gawking at you on the scoreboard for years. You’re kind of his hero.” “It’s okay—I used to look up to someone like that. Still do.” Ash slid back behind the controls and grinned at the boy. “Anyone ever tell you about Lily?” Tales about Earth carried them all the way back to the base station. Ash docked and ushered out his engers. “Let’s go see Sydney, our chief medic—he’ll treat the frostbitten spots from your leaky suits, then we’ll get you settled.” He led them through the crowded station, wending through the sleeping bags and crates of supplies that had turned the once-hollow space into a temporary camp. A blond head popped out of the control room as he ed. “Ash, you’re just

in time,” said Skye. Excitement lit her tired face. “Come in here.” He dropped off the newcomers—Lu’an and Tori squealed and embraced— and ed Skye in the control room. Soft mechanical humming filled the space, almost peaceful after the constant chatter of people in the main area. Skye leaned over the mic. “Okay, he’s here.” “I know. I can see that shiny-ass medal from orbit,” Thorn replied, snickering. Ash sank onto the stool beside Skye, smiling at the syzygy medal hanging around her neck once again. “So you made it?” “Yep. Just got everyone on your old shuttle,” said Thorn. “Tight fit, but it’s only a few days to GEO.” “We’ll leave the Spore canister in the sickbay, so you can dose up when you arrive,” Hazel chimed in. “Then we’ll finally know whether it’s me or Ash who makes a handsomer mutant,” Thorn concluded with mock gravitas. “Good thing I gave you a headstart,” said Ash. His brother laughed. “We’ll see you soon,” said Hazel, and the transmission ended. Colors shifted on the control . A legend blazed in bright capitals: BEGIN DESCENT? Skye waved her right hand over the screen, tapped the authorization key, and slumped against the back of her stool. “We did it,” she whispered. “In a few days, we can finally go home. What are you going to do first when we get there?” “Sleep.” Ash scrubbed at his bloodshot eyes. “Then start Gathering again. I want to plant a garden for all the people who couldn’t come with us. Lilium, Sorbus, Athyrium, Alnus…what about you?” “Go out in the rain.” She shot him a wicked grin. “Without a suit this time.”

Laughing, Ash slid his arm around her. She leaned into him gratefully, her chin nestling in the hollow of his shoulder as if it had evolved to fit that exact space. The steady breeze of her breath warmed his skin. Instrument lights bathed her face in color, and for a moment Ash returned to the lonely cockpit of his Mars shuttle, projecting anguished dreams on the instrument display. All the months being miserable, pretending she was there with me…and now I’d make the whole trip again if we could just sit like this and watch the stars go by. He rested a cheek against Skye’s hair. Consciousness wavered. The murmur of equipment became soft coastal rain, the scratched plastic stool turned to tree bark, cradling them in a verdant eyrie…. The ping of an incoming transmission drew him back to awareness. “Thorn again?” he asked drowsily. Skye examined the console, frowning. “Wrong frequency. It’s a short-range band.” She tapped a key and the video screen flared to life. “Hello, Ash.” Everest’s weary voice trickled from the speakers. The accompanying feed was not the carefully composed image from Colony broadcasts. Harsh, flickering lights carved shadows in his ancient visage and the angle seemed distorted, as if he sat too close to the camera. Ash caught his breath, instantly awake in a rush of anger, fear, and— unexpectedly—pity. He pressed his lips together. There’s nothing more to say. “I deeply regret that we couldn’t come to in our last conversation, and now we see the consequences,” said Everest. “I’m sure we both agree that the lives lost in this fight are too many.” Lily. Linden. Chiba. Ash squeezed his eyes shut, recalling them in a stinging haze. And it goes back farther—Rowan, my parents, Geneva, Jeddah, all the divers who left their bones on Earth. We were all fighting this war before we ever realized it. Warm fingers slipped into his—Skye intuiting his silence as she so often did. The pain balanced between them and became easier to bear.

“Humanity cannot afford such losses, Ash,” Everest continued in a tone of soft onishment. “That’s why I’m warning you.” Ash gritted his teeth. “About what?” “There’s something on the scanner. Coming in fast.” Skye traced a colored dot flashing its way toward the center of the display. “It’s the settler ship.” Snapping his eyes back to Everest, Ash recognized the video’s unusual backdrop with a sick drop in his stomach—a cockpit. “That hunk of aluminum can barely fly after the crash, much less break orbit! Do you really think it’ll get you to Mars?” A pained look crossed the old man’s face. “I expect this is the last time I’ll speak to you, Ash. And to my great-great-granddaughter—I’m certain she’s there with you. You are about to become the last scion of our family, Skye. You inherit our legacy.” “I inherited your genes, nothing more,” she snapped. “What I do with them is my own choice.” Everest ignored the denouncement. “I hope my death will bequeath to you what I never managed to achieve in my life—a united race of people.” Closing his eyes, the old man began to recite in a slow chant. “Within my breast there is no light but the cold light of stars….” “He’s accelerating straight for us. If he crashes into the station….” Skye flipped on the address system. “Emergency evacuation, everyone. Get to a transport and get away from the base, now.” The station burst into chaos. Ash and Skye fought back to a rover and took off, other vehicles streaming out behind them. “Get the turret primed and find the ship,” Skye ordered, driving around the near side of the mountain. Ash craned his neck out the porthole. “There!” Faint lights streaked the black polar sky, circling for speed before hurtling toward the station. He exhaled hard. “It’s coming in too high. He’ll miss his target.”

“No, he won’t,” said Skye in a horrified whisper. She spun the laser turret around, but too late—the ship sheared through the Vator cable. A cord deep in Ash’s body severed with it. The short end of the cable slackened, collapsing in slow, thick loops around the mountaintop. The other end soared away as the orbit station kilometers above, no longer anchored to Luna, drifted free into space. The ship spiraled into a nearby bluff, blooming shards and fire. Ash hardly saw it. He stared at the ruined coils, flickering with interrupted electricity. The same devastated blue shone from Skye’s eyes when they met his. “What do we do now?” Ash whispered, his own voice barely audible over the blood pounding in his skull. “No Vator, no ship….” No Earth. Impossibly, the tiniest twitch of smile touched Skye’s mouth. “That’s not entirely true.”

8

Home

She found him right where she expected, dark head bowed amid a thousand shades of green. Fronds stirred as he separated a small root cluster and placed it tenderly in one of the vessels beside him, oblivious to anything beyond his verdant microcosm. Imagine what he’ll do with a whole planet like this. Smiling to herself, Skye crept up behind him. Foliage absorbed the footsteps that had followed her through the Shack’s deserted corridors, but the box of data cartridges on her hip rattled and Ash looked up from his work. “Looks like you found one more thing worth saving.” He nodded at the box. Skye lifted the lid and showed him the neat rows of data cards. “Everest’s personal archive. All the art, music, books, and everything else he’d hoarded on his private computer partition.” Ash frowned. “I don’t want anything of Everest’s following us to a new home.” “They don’t belong to him. They belong to all of us. It’s as much our Earth ancestry as the seeds you collected for GAEA. And we’ll add even more to it.” “The authoritative history of humanity’s migration through the solar system?” Ash quoted, rolling his eyes. “I’ve got the first illustration.” Skye pulled a thin square print from the box and Ash’s expression softened. “I wish we could find her flower,” he said, cradling Lily’s GAEA photo. “I guess Everest didn’t think lilies would have much utility in terraforming. I hoped it might be one of the species from your archive, like these.” He indicated the seedlings in his lap, each a spray of feathery compound leaves.

“What are they?” asked Skye, fingering the vibrant red berries. “Sorbus acuparia.” When she raised an eyebrow, Ash translated: “Rowan trees.” “That little thing turns into a whole tree, like the one we climbed on Earth?” “Depends on where we plant it.” Ash transferred the sprigs gingerly into a transport container, enriched medium trickling between his fingers. “Gathering all these to travel made me think about something Willow said.” Skye groaned. “It’s a little late to nominate yourself for ruler of Earth.” “Not that part. About how colonizing two different worlds doubles our chance of survival.” He gazed around the dome full of modified mosses, grains, and cacti. “I bet Lu’an could make at least some of these grow on Mars.” “But you said the terraforming didn’t work.” “Not Everest’s kind, with robots and atmospheric algae bombs. That doesn’t mean it’s impossible.” “Few things are, if people are clever and stubborn enough.” Ash smiled. “You’ve got enough of those traits for a whole planet.” “Maybe so, but even I can’t open a wormhole between Earth and Mars. If we split up, we’ll never see any of the others again. Thorn or Hazel or Gen or….” “I know. That’s the part where I get stuck.” Ash drew rings in the soil, the air system draft ruffling his hair. “But it’s not just my choice. There’s a few hundred of us left with a shared one-way ticket, so we’ll all have to discuss it and decide.” A quiet laugh slid from Skye’s chest. “We’ve gone from no homeworld to too many. Not the worst problem we’ve had.” She sealed the box of data cards and began unfastening her boots.

Ash stared at her. “What in Goddard’s name are you doing?” “I told you I wanted to go out in the rain. If we don’t go back to Earth, this might be the only chance I ever have.” Padding barefoot to the environmental control , she ran her finger down a row of buttons. The irrigation system burst into full storm. Mist fell in sheets from the ceiling and silver arcs shot up from the floor hoses. Skye danced through the spray until her clothes were soaked through. Wet tendrils of hair tickled her neck as she tipped back her head. Cool beads glided down her nose and between her lips. Ash, crouched in the dry patch beneath a massive plantain leaf, made a face. “You know how many times this stuff’s been recycled?” “That’s the best part. All this hydrogen and oxygen was part of something else once, and will be again.” Grabbing his hand, Skye dragged him into the artificial downpour. “Like Lily said, our molecules are immortal. Wherever any of us ends up—Earth, Mars, or anywhere else—we’ll all be together again in some configuration.” Ash curled his arms around her waist, shy mischief in his smile. “I like this configuration the way it is.” Water cascaded through his dark hair, and Skye traced the paths across his skin. Covalent bonds, balancing the atomic forces and fusing two separate elements into a stronger whole. Smiling, she fit her lips into his.

⁂

The lantern beam hardly touched the darkness, but Skye’s feet knew the Sanctuary’s network like their own veins. She wound through the abandoned tunnels, collecting any last useful items: a spent atmo generator, a box of tools, a spare helmet camouflaged among loose rocks. Madurai’s chamber was bare except for a ragged sleeping bag and the altar—without its meticulous array of relics, it was only a slab of stone.

That’s all it ever was. Swallowing a sting in her throat, Skye descended the ladder to the archive. The long niches stood empty, concentric shadows in the stone echoing every breath she drew through the oxygen mask. Glass crackled underfoot—a specimen jar half-buried in the rubble. Digging it carefully free, Skye held it up to her headlamp. Inside the cracked vessel lay dry, multi-lobed husks full of shiny black seeds. The label made her smile even as tears blurred the letters: Lilium lancifolium. “We wouldn’t be going anywhere without you,” she whispered. The seeds winked at her in the beam. “Come on. We can’t blossom down here in the dark.” She left the tunnels and stood on the skylight floor for the last time. Long shafts of light fell on the row of cairns: Jeddah, Linden, Chiba, and others buried under the galaxy’s glittering shroud. Skye paused beside Madurai’s and shuddered at the still-fresh memory of clearing the Sanctuary: the Speaker’s long white hair frozen in bright needles around her face, hypoxic blue lips fixed in a prayer for Florence and the last few faithful curled around her feet, all of them shimmering with crystals like natural cave formations. “May the stars judge you justly,” murmured Skye, the fragment of ritual speech dissolving inside her mask. She turned away and approached the Ship, complete at last. Its sturdy shadow embraced her. She stowed her gear in the airlock and ducked through into the cargo bay. “There you are! Are we all ready for takeoff?” said Lu’an, looking up from the horticultural cubes fitted into the bulkhead. “We are now.” Skye handed her the jar. Lu’an examined the contents and smiled, the expression more brilliant than ever in her subtly altered face. “We’re going to have such a beautiful planet.” Skye left her to secure the specimen and climbed up through the ship’s compartments. Everything was tight but well-organized, built for maximum efficiency. Unfolded launch seats filled the main cabin, most of them occupied. She wended between the rows, her smiles reflected back three-

hundredfold. “Is Lu’an still messing with her plants?” Sydney grumbled, adjusting his harness. “They’re going to be a lot better protected from the g-forces than we are. I hope old Santiago knew what he was doing when he designed this thing, or I’m going to be dealing with a lot of ruptured capillaries.” “The pilot’s launched from stronger gravity than Luna. We’ll be fine.” Skye poked her head into the cockpit. “Won’t we, Captain?” Ash nodded from the controls. “It’s not too different from my old Mars shuttle. If I can get us up, it’ll be easy enough to follow your course. Everything still checks out?” Sliding behind the co-pilot’s console, Skye ran through the calculations she’d plotted hours before. “Yes. Given the respective orbits, we’re in the best window for a swift, safe age.” Instrument lights cast a warm spectrum on Ash’s face. “Last chance to change your mind,” he said softly. Skye shook her head. “It’s the right choice. For all of us.” She glanced back at the cabin, where everyone seemed to be holding their breath. Lu’an slipped into place beside Sydney, filling the last gap in the field of eager faces. Like the seeds packed in the Lilium pod—ready to take root and grow in new soil. “Everyone ready?” she called, and the responding roar of assent sang in her blood. Turning to Ash, she reached across the narrow gap between their seats and wove her fingers with his. “Let’s go home.” The boosters ignited, propelling the ship up from the regolith. G-force pressed Skye back against the seat, keeping her gaze fixed on the front windshield. The skylight’s grey walls streaked past in a last blurred glimpse of Luna. Ash’s pulse kept rhythm with her own as the ship leapt into an expanse of sparkling blackness and they soared into the stars.

Author’s Note

Thank you for sharing Syzygy with me! If you enjoyed this title, please consider reviewing it on the retailer’s website and suggesting it for your local library collection. Reader recommendations are incredibly powerful in connecting independent authors like me with new audiences, and your helps us keep writing stories you'll love. For more about my books, visit my website: jkullrich.com.