“Not even us,” he confirmed. “To the public, it’s a restricted military zone. Aggregate-run. Most people believe it’s deserted.
“But it isn’t. Voíríans live there.”
“Not officially.” Disdain coated his voice. “As far as the government is concerned, I’m Ezebethian. The Aggregate would never acknowledge someone with Voírían blood and still grant them full rights as a Citizen.”
Audrey stared at him. “So Voíríans don’t exist. Humans don’t matter. Convenient for everyone in charge.”
“It makes it legal,” Emerson said. “Intervening with a Level Zero civilization is forbidden. Even if anyone wanted to help Earth, they’re not allowed to.”
Her fists curled at her sides. She itched for a fight with him. “Careful,” she murmured. “If you keep insulting me, I might stop helping you.”
“I never needed your help to begin with—only your cooperation. You’re not just Voírían. You’re a Simas.” He spat out the words like they tasted poisonous.
She’d heard him talk like this before, but it hit her then just how deeply Emerson hated her family—and Voíríans in general.
Audrey plowed on, resisting the urge to pound her hands against the buzzing wall between them. “You’re underestimating how much I like my freedom. I’m not going to meet Ryker at all.” She paced the tiny cell. Only a few steps fit between the cot and the barrier. The engines still rumbled, but the ship felt held in place for the moment. Did she have time to free herself? Maybe. Enough to survive the next hour, at least. Earth already felt extremely far away.
There would be no slipping into a crowd this time. No alley to disappear into. No cash stuffed into her bra. No drugs to mute the noise long enough to think. Every fallback she’d ever used on Earth belonged to gravity, anonymity, and human scale. None of that existed here. Whatever happened next, it would have to come from her.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Exploring.”
He lifted an eyebrow.
If she couldn’t escape the ship right now, she could at least learn it for later.
She tested the sink—brown water sloshed out, metallic and foul. She ignored the toilet entirely. “Do you know how many crew are aboard?” she asked.
Emerson exhaled slowly. “Why?”
“Just answer.”
“At least eight, maybe nine.”
She gave him a curt nod.
He cocked his head to the side, almost like an animal would. “You’ve been changing since your release,” he said.
“I have?”
“You’re not wondering how to survive anymore. You’re taking control.”
That word—control—settled differently inside her. While it meant she was using her power rather than letting it wield her, she shuddered at how much he sounded like her mother and Mihail.
“I think you already know you’re not getting out of here—not yet,” Emerson added. “Not until you become something they can’t contain.”
He was right. Passivity had caged her; she would not die trapped. She would free herself and reach her twin alive. Everyone else was gone. She would not lose Cary twice.
Her hands shook a little as she remembered how Emerson assessed the risk posed by specific Voíríans. He didn’t need to say it; she could feel it instinctively as he studied her in this cell. He thought that shift in her—the refusal to panic—meant she was becoming more dangerous. He might be right.
She snapped her attention to him and froze.
His eyes were luminous blue. A volatile blue of a storm fracturing old-glass windows—electric, nearly glowing, as if charged by whatever ran through the ship’s core. Audrey thought that, in another world, such a color could have powered engines or short-circuited them. There was nothing human about it.
“Like what you see?” he asked.
“Yes,” Audrey said honestly.
