The ship groaned with her. In an instant, she knew. The generator was still engaged. A shrill alarm undulated through the shuttle, and the emergency lights had turned burnt amber, dying her skin muddy orange. They were functioning on auxiliary power only, but the ship was still bucking and heaving. She realized then that she was sprawled on the deck, and her chin ached, and when she brought her hand, her fingers came away red with her blood.

“Joshua,” she choked, spat out a gob of blood-tinged saliva. Her mouth tasted like warm salt. She propped herself up on her arms. “Joshua?”

He wasn’t in his pilot’s chair. Bat-Levi clawed her way over to the command console and hauled herself upright.

Starbase 32 was there, dead ahead.

She brought her fist down on the companel. “Starbase 32, Starbase 32, request emergency beam-out! I repeat, request emergency beam-out! We have a runaway! Starbase 32, do you copy?”

There was a sizzle of static, a sputter, and then Bat-Levi caught fragments of words: …n’t…good lock…gravi…distor…evacuate…Then a wash of interference.

Starbase 32 couldn’t get a lock. The shuttle staggered, and Bat-Levi grabbed hold of the command console to keep from hurtling to the deck. They had to get out, she and Joshua had to evacuate, they had to get out!

Bat-Levi spun on her heel. “Joshua, we have to go, now!Josh…!”

Her voice died in her throat. The hatch to below-decks was open.

No!No! He’s trying to take the generator offline…

“But there’s no time,” she whispered, and then she was shouting again, to no one, “there’s no time, no time…!

Somehow she stumbled below deck. Her eyes flicked to the rack where they stowed their environmental suits. Her stomach bottomed out. Joshua’s was missing.

He’s in the pod.Bat-Levi’s mind raced. He’s in thepod. She had to stop him. She’d drag him out by force; she’d knock him unconscious, if she had to, but she had to stop him before the ship broke apart. Grabbing her own suit, Bat-Levi dashed to the magnetically sealed hatch that led to the pod. Through the portal alongside, she could see Joshua’s suited figured hovering over the generator.

“Joshua!” she screamed, bringing her fist down on the portal, even though she knew the sound wouldn’t carry in vacuum. Maybe the movement would get his attention. “Joshua, stop!”

Joshua didn’t look up. Quickly, she pulled on her suit. Kneeling, with her helmet tucked under her left arm, she keyed in her combination to open the magnetic lock.

But nothing happened. She punched in the code again. Her eye caught movement, and she watched as Joshua glided away from the generator and then Bat-Levi understood. They hadn’t been able to blow the pod free because the explosive bolts had frozen. So Joshua was arming them himself. Joshua was going to blow the pod clear… from the inside.

“No, no!”Bat-Levi screamed. She brought her fists down again and again, hammering on the portal. “Joshua, no, stop, stop!”

Whether it was the vibration, or some premonition, Joshua looked up. She saw the horror on his face through his faceplate, and then he waved his hand the way a person does when he wants you to go away, and she saw his mouth moving, the words he was shouting: No, no, Darya, go back, get out, getaway!

“Damnyou!” Bat-Levi clawed her way to a computer com. She punched the audio to life, and the computer, silent for so long, urped, “…ull breach imminent in twenty-five-point-nine seconds. Recommend immediate emergency evacua….”

“Computer!” Bat-Levi shouted. “Magnetic seal to vacuum pod, emergency override!”

“Emergency override command acknowledged. Magnetic hatch disengaged.”

At her feet, the hatch began to dilate. Bat-Levi jumped down into the airlock, her fingers flying over the controls. As she jammed her helmet over her head and toggled the seals shut, she heard two things. One was that maddeningly calm voice of the computer telling her that the explosive bolts to the vacuum pod were engaged, and they had three seconds to detonation.

The other was her brother’s anguished scream: “No, Darya, no!”

And then the bolts ignited. And blew.

Bat-Levi was awareof the light more than she actually sawit: a white-hot flare that seared her retinas. Then she was aware of her body impacting something solid, and her brain exploded with pain. There was a sensation of being flung back and of something—the ship, or maybe it was the pod—blowing free, disintegrating into a halo of debris. Bat-Levi was standing, and then, suddenly, she wasn’t standing on anything anymore, because the airlock was gone and she was standing on empty space and the stars spread like diamonds beneath her feet and then the strange shape of Starbase 32, upended like a child’s top, wheeled in her vision.

And then she saw nothing. Felt nothing. Because there was nothing left.

Chapter 16

“You understand now, right?” Bat-Levi’s voice was thick. Her streaming eyes focused on Tyvan. “You understand why I’m…why things are the way they are.”

Tyvan debated then said, “I understand that what happened to you was a horrible thing. And I understand how you feel that you’re to blame.”

“I should have double-checked that grid. But I wasn’t on task. I just wanted to get the hell out of there, get on with my,” she gave a bleak laugh, “my damned love life.”

“Right. But Joshua was in a hurry, too. But,” he said, cutting her off when he saw her open her mouth, “but you’ve already made up your mind about that. We could argue all day, and I’ll bet other doctors have done just that. So I don’t think it’s worth rehashing. I don’t see the point in trying to talk you out of guilt you so clearly want to hang onto. But I’ll tell you what I’m more interested in.”

Bat-Levi’s lips had thinned, and Tyvan knew this was not how she expected things to go. She’d told her story, and it was horrific, but he also knew that she’d told it before. The words had a rehearsed quality; the story was a neat, tidy package, and Joshua’s death would be the first thing that any psychiatrist, him included, would’ve latched onto—because it was so obvious.

“And what’s that?” she asked, her voice flat.

“Did you keep your date with Devlin Connolly?”

Bat-Levi blinked. “What? That’s what you want to know?” An undercurrent of fury churned in her voice. “That?”

“Yes.”

“What kind of question is that?”

“I thought it was a good one. After all, Devlin Connolly was your lover…”

“Was,” she said, “was.”

“So it stands to reason you’d have contacted him again.”

“Unbelievable.” Bat-Levi grasped the arms of her chair, and Tyvan saw the fabric pucker as her fingers dug in. “Un. Be. Lievable. Doctor, take a good, hard look. I wasn’t exactly in any shape to go to Pacifica.”

Tyvan’s eyes traveled over her body, her disfigured features as if seeing them for the first time. “Well, no, but we’ve already established that this is the body you wanted. I don’t see what one has to do with the other. So, did you send for him? I’m sure Devlin…”

“No,” she interrupted. All the color had bled from her face now— Borg,thought Tyvan, just like the Borg—and this made her scar stand out so pink and taut, it rippled like a worm. “I didn’t send for him.”

“Ever?”