“You’re mad,” he said with feeling, rolling over, but turning his head so he could watch her.

“Not mad,” she said, pulling out her knife, all trace of the grin now gone. “Just different.”

“I’ll need my clothes. Do you know where they are?”

“In the closet over there,” she said, nodding her head toward a corner of the room.

The repaired tears and the rubbed patches of cloth on his insulated fatigues were impossible to miss. Thoughtfully, he ran his fingers over them. No one could fake that kind of damage. What she’d told him must be true.

“Nothing gets thrown away in Landing,” she said, uncannily following his thoughts. “Everything’s reused. Hurry up. Much as I hate to lose the rather pleasant view of you in your shorts, we must leave now.”

He glanced at her again, trying to work out how old she was as he balanced himself on his good leg and started pulling the one-piece on.

She moved closer, ready for him to lean on as he put his full weight on his injured leg. There was an ageless quality about her, but this close, he could see the tiny signs that she had left the first flush of youth behind-laughter lines at the edges of her eyes and frown ones between her eyebrows.

“I’ll answer all your questions later, when we’re in the air,” she said, holding up the top of his fatigues for him, taking the weight so he could push his arms into the sleeves.

“Lady, I’m going nowhere with you till I get some answers,” he said, pulling up the zipper and sealing the protective flap over it.

Shrugging, she turned away. “Then you can stay here and I’ll try to fly the shuttle myself.”

“That’s insane, especially in this weather!”

“You keep saying those words,” she said, frowning. “I assure you if you come with me, you’ll find out that I’m perfectly sane. Now, are you coming or not?”

Knowing she had no intention of telling him anything until she got her own way, he followed her to the window with an exclamation of annoyance.

Outside, though there was no sign of snow on the ground, it was bitterly cold. The night sky overhead was only partially clouded; every now and then the crescent moon swam into view, illuminating the village that was Landing.

Almost immediately, they’d stopped behind the generator shed belonging to the medical facility, where she’d hidden her own winter gear-brown fur jacket and hood and plain fur-lined trousers that tucked into the matching boots she wore.

“They’ll be cold,” he said, picking up her jacket as she began hauling the pants over her jeans.

“You don’t know much about Danu, do you? Furs like these are better stored outside. Helps them keep their thermal properties.”

He held the jacket for her as she shrugged herself into it.

“Follow me, and keep to the shadows.”

She led him round the outside of the village, darting into the shadows of the buildings whenever the moon lit up the sky.

“The place is deserted. I thought you said Weis had escaped. Doesn’t look to me like they’re looking for him or guarding anything.”

“They aren’t. They expect the mountain to kill him,” she said shortly, as they waited in the lee of one of the communal buildings for the moon to disappear behind the clouds again.

“The mountain? Why the hell would that kill him?” Even as he said it, he felt a shiver of uncertainty run through him.

“How much do you remember about the crash, Jensen?”

“Everything, of course! The wind slammed us into the mountain and the actual crash knocked us out.”

“Then what?” she asked, turning round to look at him.

“We got out and… walked away from the scouter before it blew up.” Even as he said it, he knew that wasn’t right.

“You saw or heard something else, though, didn’t you? You must have.”

Her brown eyes regarded him seriously as he tried to remember that night.

There had been something more, he was sure of it, but the harder he tried, the more it seemed to slip away from him.

“I can’t remember,” he said, angry and frustrated with himself. “You know what it was, so tell me!”

“I can’t,” she said, turning away again. “You have to remember it for yourself.”

The moon disappeared behind a large cloudbank, plunging them into darkness.

“Let’s go!” she whispered, starting to run out across the last open space to the building where the shuttle was stored.

Safely inside, she switched on the lights, almost blinding them both after the darkness outside.

“Won’t they see the lights?” he asked, blinking and rubbing his eyes.

“No,” she said, pushing her hood back and taking off her mitts. “It’s the middle of the night, and the building has no windows.”

Satisfied, he did the same as he walked over to where two squat grey vehicles took up most of the hangar space.

“You’ve got two shuttles?”

“We had three but we lost one in the first year.”

Jumping up on the running board at the nose of the nearer one, he thumbed the opening mechanism. The door slid back, allowing him a good view of the cramped bridge.

“These are ancient,” he said. “They should have been scrapped fifty years ago.”

“The Company isn’t exactly known for its altruism toward its settlers,” she said drily. “We’re grateful to have even these. This one is fueled and ready to go. Can you fly it?”

“In my sleep, darling,” he said, turning back to grin at her. “In my sleep.” For the first time since the crash, he felt confident of his ability to handle the situation.

Time seemed to slow as he watched her mouth drop open and her eyes widen in fear. Then something cold and hard was pressed against the back of his neck.

“You ain’t goin’ nowhere, Jensen. I’m taking this shuttle. You just step back down onto the ground and back away.”

“Weis! They said you were dead.”

“Well, they were wrong. Move it!” Weis snarled. A hefty shove in the middle of his back sent Jensen stumbling off the running board, down to the concrete floor.

“Weis, what the hell are you doing?” he demanded.

“Same as you, but for different reasons. There’s aliens out there on the mountain, that’s what you saw and heard, and they’re controlling the settlers, twisting their memories till they believe what they want! I got me some of Landing’s explosives, and I aim to stop it, not warn them we’ve found out the truth!”

“Will you listen to yourself, Weis? Aliens? Mind control? That’s wild talk. We’ve thirteen colonies now, and not one world has had any life more intelligent than a mouse on it!”

“They made you forget, Jensen, but they couldn’t wipe my memories.” Weis gave a short, bitter laugh and reached up to touch the scar that ran from one temple, across his forehead and out of sight into his cropped hair. “See, I got lucky. A rock hit me on the head, made it impossible for them to mess with my mind. As for that woman, I wouldn’t get too cozy with her; the rest of the village is afraid of her, she’s important to them.”

“Don’t be a fool, Weis. Even if what you say is true, you can’t possibly kill all of them! At worst you’ll start a war…”

Avana pushed past him. “Weis, you’re wrong,” she said, taking a few slow steps toward the shuttle. “It’s not what you think. There’s no mind control, no danger to us.”

“Come any closer and I’ll shoot you,” said Weis, pointing the gun at her.

“You don’t know the whole truth,” she began, taking another step.

“Avana, no!” said Jensen, lurching forward for her as Weis let off a warning shot.

It hit the concrete just in front of her as he grasped her around the waist and swung her out of the line of fire. He felt her stiffen in shock, then relax back against him.

“Enough talk! I’m outta here!” snarled Weis, stepping back and closing the shuttle door.

“You OK?” Jensen demanded as he put her down, then dragged her with him to the back of the hanger, well clear of the shuttle’s exhausts.