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“She’s on her way,” Dallin said. “I just saw her.”

“Thanks.” Cleo took a breath and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’ll get straight to it. We’ve reached a crisis point. Fifty percent of the crew are too sick to work. ELVIS is doing what he can, but we need alien hands on deck to make sure everything runs smoothly.”

“We’re still twenty-four hours away from the waystation.” Striker’s face was pale, and he was sweating, just like the rest of the Apexians sitting at the table.

Dallin looked around the room and realized Hunter was missing. “Why isn’t Hunter here?”

Cleo’s face blanched and her jaw wobbled. “You didn’t see him in the medical bay?”

He shook his head, his stomach tightening.

“I... I couldn’t get him to wake up this morning. Last night, he wasn’t doing so well, so I sat with him until he went to sleep. Angel can’t find a way to get him to wake up.”

Wren reached over and squeezed Cleo’s hand. “Hunter is strong. He’ll make it through this. His Apexian abilities will be working on overdrive to keep him stable.”

“He will. He has to.” Cleo looked away and blinked rapidly, before turning back to the crew. “We’ll all make it through this.”

“But we’re running out of time,” Dallin said.

“You think we don’t know that?” Blaze’s arm was tight around Eden’s shoulders.

“Of course. But I’ve got an idea how we can speed things up.” Dallin almost choked on his panic. Could he really do this?

“What is it?” Cleo said. “I’m open to trying anything.”

“A single shuttle will move faster than the Apocalypse.”

“Sure, but why is that important?”

“We’re close enough to get to the waystation using a single tank of fuel. I’ll take a shuttle and go on ahead of you. I’ll investigate the possible sources of the poison and start running tests.”

Everyone was silent as they all stared at him.

Dallin looked at Sloane, whose eyes were wide. “What’s the problem?”

“You never leave the ship,” Cleo said. “I’ve not logged you out of the Apocalypse for over a year.”

“That’s not true. I leave the ship. I went on that mission to Ballant.”

“Sugar, you didn’t.” Sloane worried her bottom lip with her teeth. “We were supposed to go there six months ago, but on the day of departure, you said you couldn’t leave the tests you were running. You said the data would be corrupted.”

Dallin frowned, then realized she was right. “Before that. I went out. I don’t go often because the work on the Apocalypse keeps me busy.”

“You don’t go out of choice,” Rexx muttered.

Dallin opened his mouth to protest, but then stopped himself. He’d become a self-imposed shut-in. But he needed to keep himself separate from everyone. Spending most of his time on his own kept out the chaos and prevented information overloads overwhelming him. Crowded places, lots of aliens, and too much noise. They all short-circuited his brain. He could never think clearly and lost control of his thoughts. Then he lost control of his actions.

Sloane stood from her seat and walked over to him. She stood by his side and squeezed his arm. “I don’t think you should do this.”

“I can get there hours before this ship. And everyone is saying we’re running out of time.”

“I agree with Sloane,” Cleo said. “It’s too risky. The Siblet could have more poison primed, just waiting to see another Apexian board the waystation.”

“It’s risky for everyone who’s been poisoned if I don’t do this.”

Sloane leaned closer. “What if you find the waystation difficult? There’ll be a lot of aliens there. It’s not a place you go to for a quiet time.”

Ash shot him a half-smile. “Sloane means, she’s worried you’ll freak out and freeze.”