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  Kieran marched up to Waverly. “We need to talk,” he said, his voice tightly controlled.

  The girls all looked at him, alarmed.

  “What’s wrong with the ship?” Waverly said. She sat on a cot, her body hidden by a shapeless white tunic, hair pulled into a hasty ponytail. She looked like she’d just rolled out of bed. Naturally she’d chosen to sleep in rather than get up early to attend services. It didn’t surprise him, considering they weren’t even talking to each other, but it still hurt. And plenty of kids were following her lead.

  “Come with me,” Kieran said to her, and took hold of her elbow.

  She jerked from his grasp but stood. “I’ll see you later,” she said to Sarah, who stared at Kieran with distrustful eyes.

  Kieran led Waverly through the crowded bunker and across the hallway to his office. The large oak desk, the leather chairs, the multicolored Persian rug, the small oval portholes looking to the stars—all was the same as it had ever been, but Kieran had stopped thinking of it as Captain Jones’s office a long time ago. It no longer even smelled like the old man’s pipe tobacco; it had taken on the aromas of Kieran’s spiced teas.

  “What’s wrong, Kieran?” Waverly demanded as he closed the door behind them.

  “Why did you visit Seth Ardvale in the brig?” Kieran said, his voice a slow simmer. He nodded toward the chair facing his desk and took the Captain’s seat.

  She watched him warily, eyes wide.

  “Waverly, answer me.”

  “I wanted to get his side of the story,” she said, her mouth set in a stubborn line.

  “He tried to kill me. Doesn’t that matter to you?”

  “Of course it does. But we’ve known Seth since we were babies, and I just can’t imagine—”

  “Where have you been over the last two hours?”

  This got her attention. “Kieran, you don’t think I had anything to do with—”

  “Answer my question.” His harsh tone clearly humiliated her, and for a moment he wasn’t sure she was going to answer him.

  “I was in my quarters.” She gave him a wounded look. “How can you—”

  “No, Waverly, how can you?”

  “There’s suspicion on me because I went to see Seth? Last I knew, he’s entitled to visitors and medical care. And a trial, incidentally.”

  “Put yourself in my shoes. My fiancée, or ex-fiancée”—he stumbled here but regained his composure—“goes to visit my worst enemy. How would you feel?”

  Waverly softened at this and reached for his hand. He pulled away.

  “Kieran, I’m confused. You have to give me a chance to understand everything that happened while I was away.”

  “If you ever loved me you should believe me without question.”

  “That’s not who I am. I’ll never be that kind of woman.”

  “Then you can never be my wife.”

  The last time they’d spoken, they’d said everything to each other except these final words. Now, with the truth hanging between them, Kieran realized that he’d known already for a long time: He and Waverly were over for good.

  For long moments she stared at him, expressionless, then she turned on her heel and started toward the door.

  “Waverly, wait,” Kieran said. “I’m sorry.”

  She looked at him skeptically.

  “Please, come sit down. Okay?”

  Slowly she walked back to the chair across from Kieran’s desk and sank into it, her feet planted on the ground as though she planned to bolt back out of it again. She was still lithe and graceful, he couldn’t help noticing, with those long, sturdy legs and her delicate wrists that always seemed so heartbreakingly small and beautiful to him.

  “You’re right. It’s not fair to accuse you.” Kieran threw up his hands. “It’s just … so much has changed, and we’re all catching up to it. I don’t know what to believe anymore.”

  She bent her gaze toward the floor. “I know.”

  “But whatever happens,” he said, “we’ve got to keep up a united front.”

  Her eyes snapped to his. “What do you mean?”

  “You don’t know how fragile things are. If I lose my influence over the crew, if they start playing hooky and doing all the other things a bunch of scared kids are liable to do, you know what will happen, don’t you?”

  “The ship will die,” she said quietly. For the first time, he thought he saw a hint of remorse in the curves of her face. He made note of it.

  “You’re the de facto leader of the girls.”

  “Not anymore,” she said ruefully.

  He ignored this. “I need your support if we’re going to keep this crew eating and breathing clean air.” He stood, walked around the desk, and put a hand on hers. “Will you promise to support the policies on this ship?”

  “What I say doesn’t matter to anybody as much as getting our parents back.” She tilted her head in a tentative way, watching his reaction. “Some people think you’re hanging back from the New Horizon because you’re scared.”

  He pulled his hand away from hers. “It’s unsafe to go faster.”

  “Not everyone believes that.” She watched him, seeming unsure whether to continue. “Some think you don’t want the adults back, because then you’d have to give up your command.”

  He stared at her, shocked. No wonder attendance at services had dwindled. Half the crew didn’t trust him.

  “What do you say?” he asked, wishing it didn’t still matter to him, wishing he could keep himself from glancing at her perfectly formed rosebud lips.

  “I don’t know, Kieran,” she said sadly. “Since you, Sarek, and Arthur hardly tell people what’s going on, how am I to judge the situation for myself?”

  He shook his head. “Are you saying this to hurt me?”

  “I’m saying this to help you.” She threw up her hands in frustration. “People are scared and they miss their parents.”

  “And I bet you haven’t even tried to help.”

  “What am I supposed to do?”

  “Back me up instead of undermining me.”

  “I haven’t said a word against you.”

  “You don’t have to! The other kids can tell you don’t agree with the way I’m doing things. They’re following your lead! That’s how you undermine me.”

  She stared at him for a long time, as though trying to read his mind, then seemed to decide. She stood and extended a hand. “I won’t lie for you, Kieran, but I won’t betray you, either, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  Their palms met. Already her hand felt unfamiliar, larger than he remembered, the skin rough from her work as a mechanic. And her eyes—she’d darkened from the inside out. She’d changed.

  He studied her, unsure of what she was saying. “Okay…”

  She smiled sadly at him, then turned and left the room, closing the door quietly behind her.

  Kieran sat in the Captain’s chair feeling as though a fundamental part of him had been scooped out. They’d always known each other. They’d always been friends, until they’d become more. He couldn’t have imagined this distance. He sat thinking for a long time, measuring his options, until finally he pushed his com button and summoned Arthur into his office.

  “Kieran, people are talking,” Arthur said breathlessly. “Did you reprimand Waverly in front of—”

  “Who do you trust, Arthur?”

  “What?” The boy looked at him, bewildered.

  “Who among the boys would you trust to do something and be discreet about it?”

  Arthur stared at Kieran, fingering the seam on his woven trousers, his toes twitching in their sandals. “Philip Grieg.”

  “Who?”

  “He’s nine years old, I think. He never talks to anyone.”

  “Oh yeah.” Philip was that quiet boy with black hair that hung in his face, and the kind of steady gaze that was unnerving if you tried to smile at him. But he came to the ship’s services without fail and always sat in the front row,
raptly fixed on Kieran’s every word. He’d be loyal.

  “Bring him here.”

  “Now?”

  “Yes, right away.”

  Arthur turned to go, but he looked at Kieran over his shoulder as he closed the door. Soon two short knocks sounded, and Kieran stood. “Come in.”

  Philip glided into the room in the feline, small-boned way he had, and Kieran realized that he was the perfect choice for this assignment.

  “Hi,” Philip said. His eyebrows twitched with excitement. Kieran had never singled him out before, and clearly this meant a great deal to him.

  “Philip,” Kieran said gently, for he felt that a careless word from him could hurt this boy. “Can you do something and never tell anyone about it?”

  Philip hugged a cloth teddy bear to his chest. God, he was young. He stared at Kieran as though he’d already forgotten the question.

  “Philip, I asked you a—”

  “Yes. I can be quiet,” the boy mumbled through glistening lips.

  “If I tell you to follow someone, can you do it without being seen?”

  The boy shrugged. “What do you want me to do?”

  Kieran leaned back in his chair and stared at Philip, who lowered his gaze to the floor, though he seemed to be listening with all his heart.

  “Philip. I think Waverly Marshall might be doing something she shouldn’t be doing, and I need you to follow her, watch what she does without being seen, and tell me everything. Can you do that?”

  “What if she sees me?”

  “You have to make sure she doesn’t. Can you do that?”

  “Probably, but…” The boy held his teddy to his nose and inhaled the scent. Kieran wondered if it had been sewn by the boy’s mother, who’d been killed in the shuttle-bay massacre. “Why do you want me to do it?”

  “I think it’s better if only I know why. Is that okay?”

  “I guess.”

  “Do you know where Waverly’s quarters are?”

  “Yes.”

  “I want you to find an empty apartment nearby and hide there early in the morning so that you can follow her all day long. Can you do that?”

  “That sounds creepy,” the boy said. One fine black eyebrow lowered, and he looked at Kieran skeptically.

  “It’s not creepy if you’re doing it for a good reason. And I have a very good reason to keep a watch on Waverly.”

  “Okay,” the boy said.

  “So we’re going to keep this between us, aren’t we?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you’re not going to tell any of your friends?”

  “I don’t really have friends,” Philip said softly.

  “Good,” Kieran said, then he heard himself. He got up, walked around the desk, and lowered himself to one knee. “I’m your friend, Philip.”

  The boy’s eyes widened.

  “I’m your friend, and what you’re doing is very important. You might even save the ship. You’ll be a hero.”

  This brought a smile to the boy’s wan face. “Okay.”

  Kieran went to his desk drawer, found a small walkie-talkie, and handed it over. “You can call me on this and tell me what Waverly does. I’ll want to know who she talks to and where she goes. Take notes if you have to.”

  “Okay.” Philip took the handset but paused, confused. “But isn’t Waverly your girlfriend?”

  Kieran opened his mouth, closed it. He had to take a few even breaths before he could summon an answer. “No. Not anymore.”

  “Oh. Okay,” Philip said. When he turned and walked out, Kieran saw how bony his shoulders were, how skinny his little legs. He seemed fragile.

  Only six months ago, asking a child to perform a duplicitous task like this would have been unthinkable, and Kieran shook his head at how much had changed since the attack by the New Horizon that had killed almost all the adults, leaving the kids to run the ship themselves. If he thought about it too long, his heart raced and his breath came too fast.

  He made a fist. He was doing what he had to do. If Seth was tampering with the thruster controls and endangering the crew, if Waverly was helping him, he absolutely had to know. He had two hundred and fifty lives in his hands, and it was his job to protect them, no matter how uncomfortable it made him feel.

  He was at war. He must never forget that.

  THE TRAIL

  Seth woke with a fuzzy mouth and a sore spot in the middle of his back. After he heard Kieran’s announcement about the thruster misfires, he’d been able to relax, but he’d slept no more than an hour, maybe two. He shouldn’t have slept at all. It was past time to leave. He stretched the muscles in his legs and back, horribly sore from carrying Harvey up all those stairs. Slowly, Seth crept along a mossy path until he reached some peanut plants and dug up as many peanuts as he could carry, then tucked himself into a nest of ferns to eat, thinking as he cracked dusty shells in his fist.

  What he needed was a way around the surveillance system.

  He considered what he knew about it. The cameras were on twenty-four hours a day, but the central computer only recorded when the motion detector on each camera was activated. This was the obvious solution to reducing the sheer amount of video hours recorded every day all over the vessel. Could there be a way to alter the software controlling the motion detectors?

  An idea struck him, and he knew what he had to do.

  He sprinted for the door that led to the central corridor and listened for voices, then slipped out and ran as fast as he could to the stairwell on the starboard side of the ship. This stairwell was rarely used, because it ran along the outer hull, and even with the ship’s insulation, it was deadly cold. Seth gritted his teeth as he bounded up several flights to the section of the ship that contained the living quarters. Shivering uncontrollably though he was sweating, he paused outside the door to the habitation level to listen for people.

  All was quiet. The ship was so underpopulated since the attack, it shouldn’t be a surprise the corridor was empty now, but it felt strange to Seth—haunted. When he finally slipped through the door and into the warm air, his frozen skin tingled. He ducked into the maintenance closet around the corner from his old quarters, well out of sight of his front door, for surely it was being watched. The closet smelled of ammonia and the sludgy grease on the various power tools. He prayed under his breath as his fingers ran over the paneling at the back wall, and sighed with relief when he found his old secret hatch.

  Years ago, his father had shut him into a closet for mouthing off. After several desperate, hungry hours, Seth had finally pulled away the paneling from the rear wall and found a passageway that ran behind all the apartments. The passage was meant for the plumbing, wiring, and ventilation that kept the apartments going, but it was large enough for a thin boy to sidle along. Seth had never told anyone about it because he was worried his father would find out and punish him. He was thankful for his silence now. No one would suspect him of traveling this way. Best of all, he knew that there was no surveillance camera pointed at the maintenance closet, so he could enter it without fear of detection.

  He slipped into the small passageway, which was barely wide enough to admit him, now that he was fully grown. If he sucked in his belly, he found that he could squeeze himself between the dozens of wires that hung in his way, and he could wriggle his legs over the plumbing pipes and ventilation ducts. Each time he stepped over a large pipe meant for a toilet, Seth knew that he’d passed one apartment. When he’d passed twelve of the large pipes, he knew he was home.

  He jiggled the paneling loose with his fingernails. It came away with a jerk, and Seth stumbled into his father’s closet. Immediately he was surrounded by the scent of the old man, a sour odor that had always reminded Seth of rancid lemons. He fought his way through the clothes and opened the closet door, almost tripping over the pile of dank laundry in the middle of his father’s bedroom floor. He caught himself on the desk and paused to listen for signs of life. But no, the apartment was empty, and eerie.
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  A hundred dreary memories threatened to take hold, but he forced himself into motion. He gathered up his father’s portable com system. Folding the screen against the keyboard, he tucked it under his arm and turned to reenter the passageway.

  Negotiating the passageway was twice as hard now that he carried the computer, but Seth took his time, pausing to rest his sore muscles every few minutes. The grimy, smelly maintenance closet was a relief after the cramped passage, and he stopped to stretch his muscles, trying to work out the kinks between his ribs.

  He was ready to open the door and leave when he heard voices outside in the corridor and paused to listen, his heart in his mouth. Had they traced him here? Maybe Kieran had found him on the video! But no. It sounded like two little girls on their way to the central elevator bank.

  “Did you see the way Kieran took Waverly to his office last night?”

  “Maybe it’s true. Maybe they really did break up.”

  “I don’t believe it. Not with the way she still looks at him.”

  Seth’s stomach knotted up, and for the thousandth time he wished he didn’t love her. She’d never be with a brute like him, and he should let her go. He’d been telling himself this for years and he knew it was true, but he still couldn’t make himself give her up. Maybe he was stubborn; probably he was just stupid.

  Besides, there’s no such thing as love, he told himself, remembering the wolfish way his father used to look at his mother. When a husband can kill his own wife, you know it’s just a fairy tale.

  This brought Seth back to the safe place he knew, the one where he didn’t need anyone, where no one would ever depend on him, where he’d never get close enough for anyone to see the darkness inside him. For people like Seth, there was no such thing as uncomplicated love or friendship, and he was better off alone. So was everyone else, especially her.

  Seth heard the elevator doors slide open for the girls, and their voices faded away. He slipped out of the closet, sprinted to the outer stairwell, and ran up the stairs two at a time to the shuttle bay. He peeked in through the window to see only the lifeless forms of the shuttle craft and OneMen that lined the walls, then slipped through the doorway and into the bay.