KYLEE JUMPED to her feet. “You have to go after her! It isn’t safe.”

An alarm sounded from the cockpit. Taren rose. Through the doorway, he glimpsed the screen. It flashed bright red as numbers counted down from thirty. Had he missed a trap? It didn’t matter. He had thirty seconds to get away.

He raced into the engine room and yanked out one of the fission pods, or what he assumed was a fission pod. It was held in a similar protective casing to the ones of The Andromeda, and was of similar weight and size. And was one of the most expensive parts of any ship. He dragged it out to the loader and hefted it into the open storage area, beside the other items he’d collected.

The hot wind tugged at his clothes, drying up the moisture on his skin. After leaping into the loader’s cab, he cranked the keycard, and the vehicle came to life with a deafening roar. With the gas pedal to the floor, the loader sped into the desert. In the light of the two moons, Taren could see the landscape stretched out before him. He didn’t get too far before the shock wave hit him. The loader lurched forward, metallic arms flailing as it left the ground. It landed right side up with a painful crunch of metal and a curse from Taren. He chanced a glance at his rearview mirror. The speedbarge was now a hunk of splintering metal in the sand next to a half-demolished hill.

He turned on his floodlights, hoping to see Lenore. If the shock wave reached her, she’d be lying flat on her face in the dirt, and he didn’t want to run her over. Up ahead, a figure rose unsteadily from the ground. Taren hit the brakes.

Lenore spun around, dirt flying from her hair, which looked silver in the moonlight. She backed away from him when he jumped down from the cab. Those pathetic fists were up despite the fear written all over her face.

“You stay away from me!”

Kylee appeared next to Taren, her hands out in a placating gesture. “Oh, Nora, it’s all right.”

Taren mimicked his princess, his shadow elongating across the ground in the floodlight. “Think about what you’re doing, kid. Think about what’s out there.”

“I’d rather take my chances in the city than have to spend another second with you,” Lenore shrieked, backing away.

“Why? Because I talk to myself?” Taren barked out a laugh. “I hit my head when I crash-landed on this rock, and now I hallucinate sometimes. I’m not dangerous.”

“You can’t know that!”

“Yes, I can. Look, I care about what happens to some kid I don’t even know,” Taren said, gesturing to her. “Would a crazy, dangerous person care?”

Lenore stopped her backward shuffle but kept her fists up.

Taren raised his eyebrows and waited.

“I don’t know,” she said at last.

The palms of his hands slapped his thighs when he dropped them. “I’m not going to hurt you, Lenore. I promise. But I can’t live with someone who doesn’t trust me. I’ll take you into the city, help you find someone else to watch over you.”

She blinked back tears. “I went home after I escaped the whorehouse. A neighbor told me my parents were off-planet, had been for almost two years. They sold me to those—those animals so that they could buy a ticket off Cartiss. I went to an old friend’s house after that. She looked at me like I was a disease. She wouldn’t let me in, not even for a glass of water. Nobody wants me. I don’t have anywhere to go!” She screamed that last word, bending her knees, flinging her fists down and behind her in violent arcs.

The girl sucked in deep gulps of air as the tears poured down her face. “I’ve been abandoned, betrayed, touched and opened up, and used in disgusting ways. Even through the fog of Bagora, I remember.” She gagged and wrapped her arms around her stomach. Then she collapsed to the sand on her knees. “I just want to die.”

Kylee choked on a sob.

Taren glanced at her before turning back to Lenore. “I’m sorry. What’s been done to you is horrible, and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. But you can’t die.”

“Why not?” she asked, fiery blue eyes meeting his. “I can’t do anything useful! There’s nothing for me here or anywhere. What good will it do to stay alive?”

“I don’t know,” Taren snapped. “My life isn’t exactly wonderful right now either. If the dead princess who’s haunting me wasn’t pushing me forward, I don’t know if I could last another day. But I have kept going. The only reason I was able to help you is because I kept going.” He dragged a hand through his hair, unsure if he was making any sense. “There’s always a reason to live, no matter how much life sucks. You need to find one. Besides, I already bought all those girly clothes, and there’s no way I’m going back to that store to return them.”

Lenore stared at him, looking lost and vulnerable. “What’re we going to do?”

“Right now, we’re going back to The Andromeda before we’re discovered by sand sabers. After that…” He shrugged and walked back to the loader. He sat in the driver’s seat, gripped the steering wheel, and waited.

Eventually, the girl rose and dusted the sand off her knees. She jumped into the loader and tugged the door closed, keeping her head bowed.

Kylee materialized between them and placed a hand on Taren’s knee. “You did good, Terry.”

They drove back to the ship with only the rumble of the loader’s engine and the whistle of the wind to break up the silence. Taren parked the loader in the cargo bay and began the long climb to the upper deck. Lenore followed, sniffling occasionally. Before they parted ways, Taren asked if she was hungry. She nodded, so he led her into the galley. They enjoyed a bowl of reepa with white sauce and ground wapluut under the fluorescent lights. Then Taren tore open the box of mock ice cream cakes. He only had one, but he let her eat as many as she wanted. Then he walked her to the crew quarters.

“We’ll figure this out,” he said. “It’s not all hopeless. I promise.”

She nodded sullenly and made to close the door between them, but he stuck his foot out to stop her.

“Do I have to come in there and take all the sheets off the beds?”

Lenore shook her head. Taren stared at her until she met his eye and said, “No.”

Satisfied, he moved his foot.

HE ADDED the last of the electromagnetic radiation capsules to the warp core, swapped out one of the turbo pumps on the engine, and put in a new fission inlet to provide better power flow to the main engine. Then he sat in the cockpit and tried to decipher the error codes that flashed across the screen whenever he tried to divert more power to the engine. The control board guide said the codes meant a small transmitter in the control board itself needed to be replaced, while the ship’s owner manual said it was the large transmitter in the engine room that needed replacing.

“It’s more than likely the small transmitter in the control board,” Kylee murmured. “The larger transmitter in the engine room looked fine to me.”

Taren closed the owner manual and tossed it aside before dragging a hand down his face. He wouldn’t be getting anything else done tonight.

“Promise me you won’t change your appearance,” Kylee said.

“What?” he asked distractedly.

“When you leave Cartiss and start a new life on some other planet, promise me you’ll just buy a life’s supply of retrodium batteries and use Axel’s choker until the day you die.”

Taren snorted out a laugh.

Kylee sank into the pilot’s chair. “I’m serious, Terry. You’re not you without your curly hair, oak-brown eyes, and dimpled chin.”

“Both facial reconstruction and retrodium batteries are expensive.” Taren ran his fingers over his chin. “We’ll see which one I can afford first.”

“I’m so sorry, Terry. This is all my—”

Taren raised a weary hand to silence her. “If your death wasn’t my fault, then my fate isn’t yours. We both made our own choices.”

She opened her mouth as if to argue further, but eventually closed it and let the matter be.

“I’m sure your mom will figure something out to appease the Mirelings,” Taren said. “You don’t have to worry about the future of your people.”

Kylee looked down at her hands, her jaw working. When she looked up again, her eyes were shimmering. “They’re not really my people anymore, are they?”

LENORE SAT at the foot of the stairs and watched Taren carry the new weapons over to the loader. “Earlier you said you were haunted by the ghost of a princess?” She blushed when he looked up. “But you were referring to your hallucinations, right? There isn’t an actual ghost on this ship, is there?”

Taren glanced at Kylee, who sat in the loader, waiting for him. “I don’t know, but I’m the only one who can see her. That has to mean something.”

“She was the princess from the pictures?”

“Yeah.”

Lenore smoothed the hair out of her face. “How did she die?”

“It happened when we crashed.” Taren activated the magnetic field, and the blasters stuck to the bottom of the storage area. “It was an accident.”

“You loved her.”

“I did.”

Lenore dipped her head in a nod. “I’m sorry.”

“Me too.”

She hugged her knees to her chest. “You don’t see anyone else?”

“Nope.”

Lenore managed a weak smile. “That doesn’t sound so bad then.”

Taren gestured to her bare feet. “Do your feet get cold at night? Do you need socks or something?”

She shrugged. “It does get a little cold sometimes.”

“I’ll pick some up then. Do you want me to look for shoes too?”

Lenore sat up, a big smile stretching across her pale face. “That would be great.”

“All right. Hold down the fort. I’ll see you in the morning.”

WITH THE money Zookum gave him for the weapons from the speedbarge, Taren was able to buy Lenore two pairs of shoes and a pack of socks. He also bought several sheets of metal to fix the broken wing of The Andromeda, and a gaming console along with four educational games from honest-man Faulkner. Taren walked out of the store with a heavy shopping bag over his shoulder. All he had to do was sell the Mireling fission pod to Eli, and then he could head back to his ship.

He drove across town and parked before The Rusty Generator in time to witness Eli shoving a thin, hooded figure out of his shop. The offender fell on his backside, and his hood fell back, exposing the face of a young alien.

“That’s a kid he’s yelling at,” Kylee said, leaping out of the loader. “Hey!”

“Princess, he can’t see—” Taren rolled his eyes. “Why do I even bother?” He hurried after her.

“Tell yer ma to come face me herself the next time she has a problem with somethin’ she bought from my shop,” Eli growled, shaking a fist. “I won’t take any more of this messenger business, understand?”

The boy nodded up at the dwarf-man, droopy ears flapping as he did. Now that he was closer, Taren could see that the alien’s pale red skin wasn’t a trick of the neon lights but his actual skin tone. Yellow freckles dotted the skin around the short, elephantine trunk poking out of the center of his face. He also had four brown eyes—one regular-sized eye on either side of his nose, and then one slightly smaller eye at each temple. The second pair of eyes was barely visible through his glittering, golden hair. It wasn’t an alien species Taren was familiar with.

Eli slammed the door of his store closed with a bang. The boy flinched.

“Here,” Taren said, holding out his hand.

The little alien reached out and gripped Taren’s fingers. Taren barely had to tug to get the boy upright; he was lighter than Lenore.

“Poor thing looks like he hasn’t eaten in ages,” Kylee said.

The alien boy made a small trumpeting sound and backed away, rubbing his elbow.

“Are you all right?” Taren asked.

The boy picked up the pace until he was running down the sidewalk, his ears flapping.

Kylee tore her eyes away from the elephant-like alien to scowl at The Rusty Generator. “Wonder what Eli’s problem was.”

“Could’ve been anything. He doesn’t have a long fuse.”

Kylee hmmphed in disapproval.

A quiet whine had Taren reaching for his neck.

Kylee’s gaze swung to meet his. “What was that?”

“Low battery,” a male robotic voice indicated from the choker.

“Damn,” Taren muttered, turning back to the loader.

Two men loitering nearby gave him pause. The one with dark hair and a mustache was smoking while leaning against a streetlight, but the other—the one with graying hair and pockmarked skin—was staring at Taren. Both were tall and muscular, dressed in dark, baggy clothing, under which they could easily be hiding weapons.

The pockmarked man smiled as they approached. “You seem to be a Good Samaritan, sir. Think you could help us out?”

“That depends.” Taren placed a casual hand on the sidearm strapped to his belt.

The smoking man tensed, his dark eyes zeroing in on the weapon.

“What do you need help with?” Taren asked.

The pockmarked man nodded at The Rusty Generator. “Just wondering if you’ve seen another child in distress. She’s about this tall”—with a flattened, overturned palm, he tapped his chest—“with white-blond hair and big blue eyes.”

Kylee gasped. “You’re the monsters who run the whorehouse!”

“Who’s asking?” Taren said.

The smoking man tossed his cigarette onto the sidewalk with an impatient flick of the wrist. “Philip and Kale Acadien, that’s who.”

Taren cocked his head to the side. “Am I supposed to know who the Acadiens are?”

“Probably not,” the smiling man said. “You look like you might be new in Hurren.”

“I’ve just started doing business here,” Taren said. “I lost too many clients in Wreakmond, so I had to move on.”

“That’s a shame. It’s not an easy journey.” The pockmarked man held out his hand. “My name’s Philip.”

Taren shook the stranger’s hand. “Pleasure.”

“Just so you know, the Acadiens are one of the biggest families in Hurren. We’re involved in a lot of local charities—orphanages, affordable schooling, soup kitchens, that kind of thing.” Philip shrugged modestly in response to a compliment he hadn’t received. “The blondie we were telling you about ran away from one of our orphanages. She thinks she can make it out here on her own, but it’s just too dangerous. We’re looking to bring her back into the fold before she gets hurt.”

Kylee snorted. “Of course, you are.”

“I see. You said she was about yea high?” Taren said, holding out his arm.

Philip nodded. “That’s right.”

“Hmm. Well, I don’t know if she would count as a white-blond, but I did see a girl with fair hair and blue eyes the last time I was in town. She was wandering around, looking lost. I asked if she needed help, but she ran off.”

Philip ho-hummed. “That’s too bad. Well, thank you for your time.” He waved a hand at his companion, and the two of them slinked down the sidewalk.

“I hope you find her,” Taren called after them.

Kylee spun around to look at Taren the moment the Acadien thugs had turned the corner. “They couldn’t have believed your story. There was a reason they were hanging out by your vehicle.”

“Someone must’ve seen me take Lenore.” Taren crouched low to run a hand under the loader and around the hover pads. There weren’t any trackers that he could see or feel, but that did little to comfort him.

“Of course, your choker chooses to start dying now. You need to get yourself more clothes, new goggles or darker glasses, hats and wigs,” Kylee said in a rush.

Taren nodded and straightened up, his head buzzing. He’d drive around the city until morning and sell the loader the first chance he got. Tracker or no tracker, he needed something more inconspicuous. He opened the door with one hand and patted his pocket with the other. How much money did he have left?

“Terry?”

“Hmm?”

Kylee nodded at The Rusty Generator.

“Oh, right.” He closed the door. “I was going to sell the Mireling fission pod to Eli.”

“Yes, you were. Do you think any hovercraft salesmen are still working at this hour?” she asked, looking around.

Taren shook his head and tugged the tarp away from his storage area to reveal the pod. “No. I’ll have to hunker down someplace and wait till morning.”

“Let’s hope Lenore sleeps in. She’ll be worried if she notices you’re still gone at sunrise.”

In the future, Taren would be able to video chat with her using his PDA or Axel’s watch if she downloaded a messaging app onto her gaming tablet. He’d have Lenore do that when he got back, but for right now, he’d just have to hope for the best. He lifted the pod, placed it over his shoulder, and waddled into The Rusty Generator.