It was never whatyoubelieved, she counters.You needed the noble speeches to hide behind – you were never brave enough to look what you were doing in the eye and own the fact that you were saving yourself because youdeservedto be saved. You look down on the rest of us, but at least we knew what this was.
‘That’s not true! Marguerite, please. We said that we had to dream huge dreams, and make hard choices, but it was always meant to be for something greater than us.’
There is nothing great here without us!she snaps.
‘I don’t agree,’ I say. ‘I’m sitting here in this classroom, looking at these pictures stuck to the wall, thinking about the kids who made them. About who those kids could grow up to be. What they could do for this place, given a chance. Trying to understand how my own sister is willing to murder the children at half a dozen different stations.’
She doesn’t reply. Instead, the alarm above me starts up again.Decompression warning, says the woman, her voice slowing and deepening as the power bleeds away.Evacuate. Decompression warning.
‘Marguerite!’ I shout, but I’m moving, throwing myself off the desk and out the door. I swing around to slap at the palm plate, praying there’s enough juice left for the door to close.
It wheezes shut, and through the clear screen that’s supposed to let parents watch their children learn, I see the porthole blow,and the school supplies fly up in a flurry of white as the classroom decompresses.
I told her where I was. I’m a fool. But I’m not foolish enough to say anything now – to scream at her, like the anger burning inside me wants to do. Perhaps she won’t be able to tell the door closed. Perhaps she’ll think I was on the wrong side of it.
Should have come with me, Hunter, she whispers to my ghost.
I can hear alarms wailing in the distance and fire alerts starting to go off. The station’s dying around me.
Cleo’s not the only person running out of time. The station isn’t going to make it to the end of our countdown. That timeline never planned for us running around trying to destroy each other, shorting circuits and setting fires, sabotaging basic functions.
Any second now, fire is going to rip through the oxygen-enriched air and start blowing the seals that protect the base from the outside. The fire will make it a long way in just a few seconds – and then when the seals blow, Pax will decompress.
There’s nothing more I can do for Cleo – I have to hope she and Sabrina can stay ahead of Nico and Blue Braid for long enough to deliver their message. Maybe long enough to reach safety, even.
But the thought of Cleo out there on the red planet’s surface has given me one last idea, and maybe I have enough time to pull it off.
One last chance at maybe, just maybe …
I start to run.
33.
CLEO
12 MINUTES REMAINING
WE’RE ON THE CUSPof radio contact when we see the other rover behind us. The dust storm is still swirling in the air, which means they can’t be more than a hundred meters away.
‘Shit.’ I twist around from my nav duties to get a look at them. ‘How did they catch up?’
‘Nico’s driving,’ Sabrina replies, eyes never leaving the path ahead. ‘He’s good. Very good. Plus, they know the way. Take your pick. What do you see?’
‘There’s nobody in the passenger seat,’ I say. ‘But the rover … it’s the wrong shape.’ I’m squinting through the haze, trying to make out more details. Then, a chill going through me, I understand. I let out a slow breath that’s half a moan.
‘Cleo?’ Sabrina prompts me, her voice rising.
‘He’s got someone on the outside,’ I rasp.
‘What now?’ She tries to twist her head around, and the rover wobbles, which snaps her attention straight ahead again.
‘There’s someone on the hood of the rover,’ I say.
‘But why?’
I can see it more clearly now – someone in a pressure suit and helmet. I catch a glimpse of color inside the helmet. It’s Blue Braid, with her augmented vision.
She raises her hand, pointing it at us through the fading dust storm.
