They sleep ten to a room, curled up on the floor. There used to be bunk beds on the walls–Prakesh saw the places where cots were bolted on–but they’re long gone. There’s no light in the ceiling, and when the door behind them is banged shut the room is in total darkness. The bodies inside it quickly raise the temperature, and the smell of sweat mixes with the coppery tang of dried urine.
At least the room is large enough for all the workers. They huddle in small groups, sitting against the wall or trying to stretch out on the hard floor. Prakesh tries to find a spot, tripping over outstretched feet more than once.
He’s too tired to sleep, and too wired to do anything but sit and stare into the darkness. The last few hours passed in an exhausted blur: more soil bags, another dose of slop in that mess hall, some water, a chance to use the bathroom. Then this… hole. He saw Jojo come in with them, caught a glimpse of his face before the door was shut, but he doesn’t know if he should call out for him.
He keeps seeing Carver, vanishing under a hail of feet and fists. Keeps seeing the look on his face. Prakesh curls his hand into a fist of his own.
Jojo’s voice comes out of the darkness, so close that Prakesh nearly jumps. “Hey. Y-y-you… uh, awake?”
The kid is right next to him, his mouth by his ear, but Prakesh can’t see a thing. “Yeah,” he says, keeping his voice low.
Jojo’s stutter seems to be less prominent, as if the fact that it’s too dark to see him means he finds it easier to speak. “W-we can talk now, if y-y-you want. W-what’s it like?”
His question catches Prakesh off guard. “What do you mean?”
“Outside the sh-ship.”
Prakesh tries to marshal his thoughts. It’s hard to even know where to start. “We weren’t out there long,” he says. “We got picked up by Ray and Nessa.”
“I hate them. R-R-Ray ’ssssssspecially. So w-where are you from? I’m f-f-from Denali, up north, or I w-was before my p-p-p-” He stops, and makes two of those gulping sounds again. “Parents brought me here. Th-th-they n-named me J-Joseph, but th-they always called m-m-me Jojo. Everyone d-d-does.”
“Where are your parents now?”
“D-d-dead.” He says it without regret, like it’s a simple fact, and that alone is enough to make Prakesh’s stomach clench. It’s enough to remind him of his own parents, on Outer Earth. Thinking about them is like walking on the edge of a gaping hole. He knows he’ll never see them again, but even trying to comprehend that fact is like leaning out over the hole, daring gravity to take him.
“B-b-but I’m g-gonna get back there,” Jojo says. “My uncle st-stayed b-b-behind. He’s w-waiting fffff-for me. I know he is.”
Prakesh nods, knowing Jojo can’t see him, but not sure what else to say.
Jojo saves him the trouble. “So w-where are you from?”
Prakesh takes a breath. “Outer Earth.”
“Like the ssss-space station?” Jojo says. It’s impossible to miss the excitement in his voice.
“That’s right.”
“But that’s a m-m-million m-miles away! W-why did you come down here?”
Because I unleashed a virus that destroyed the station. Because we couldn’t stop people from leaving. Because no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t do the right thing.
“Doesn’t matter,” Prakesh says. “We’re here now, and that’s all there is.”
Jojo pauses, as if turning this over in his mind. Prakesh takes the moment. “Jojo,” he says, leaning in closer. “How many people on this ship? How many prisoners?”
Jojo shrugs–Prakesh can feel it, feel JoJo’s shoulders brushing his. “Th-thirty of us in the farm. M-m-m-maybe another thirty somewhere else?”
“What about the guards?”
“Twenty-f-f-five, I think? B-but they got all the guns and they never let us near them and th-th-they—” He stops, and takes a couple of hitching breaths.
“How long have you been here?” Prakesh says.
Another shrug. “A c-c-couple years. I d-d-don’t r-really know. L-lost time. But P-P-Prophet says we have to w-work for the—”
He stops, coughing, like he hasn’t talked this much in years, and isn’t used to it. “Engine,” he says eventually, without a single hitch in the word. “The Engine.”
“And what is the Engine?” Prakesh says.
“W-we don’t know. It’s b-b-below decks, and they d-d-don’t l-let us go there.”
“You’ve never been?”
Jojo makes a negative sound. “Th-they keep their f-f-f-f-f-fuel down there, right at the bottom of the sh-sh-ship. Th-th-they won’t l-let anyone near it.” A note of excitement creeps into his voice. “One day w-w-we’re gonna burn this place down. All of it. G-go off and f-f-f-find a suh-spot of our own.”
Prakesh hears movement–someone scrabbling across the floor in front of them. He feels hot breath on his face. “You two shut up. Shut up right now.”
“We were just—” Prakesh says.
The man cuts him off. “I don’t give a shit. I don’t want our rations taken away because you felt like a conversation.”
“Hey f-f-f-f-f-” Jojo says in a harsh whisper, not quite managing to get the curse out. He swallows loudly. “I’ll talk if I w-want. Just ’cos you got n-n-nothin’ good to say…”
He trails off. For a moment, Prakesh wonders if the other man is going to retaliate, but then the hot breath on his face vanishes and he hears the man withdrawing to the other wall.
Jojo shifts his body a little. “F-f-fraid he’s right. We shouldn’t r-r-really be talking. I’ll s-s-s-s-s-see you tomorrow.”
He turns away. Someone snores loudly, groaning in their sleep.
Prakesh sits in the darkness, thinking hard. And the more he thinks the angrier he gets.
He’s been on the edge of a long drop before, only that time it was for real. After Riley brought him the news about Resin, that it was his genetic experiments that caused it, Prakesh almost took his own life. The grief and despair was almost too much to take. He stood on the roof of the Air Lab control room, seconds away from stepping off. It was only a last-second thought that stopped him.
He was going to save as many people as possible. It didn’t matter where they ended up, whether they stayed on the station or came to the planet below: he was going to dedicate the rest of his life to that goal. It was the only way to atone for what he’d done.
It’s what he thought he was doing, when he helped stop Riley from destroying the Shinso Maru’s fusion reactor. Saving lives.
But it didn’t work. Everybody he tried to help is either dead, or trapped here. His colleagues, his friends, his parents–another clench of his stomach muscles, an involuntary reaction. And Riley–gods, even the thought of what happened to Riley is enough to make him want to pound the walls, scream and roar until they come in and knock his head right off his shoulders.
What would Riley do? If she were here right now?
That’s when Prakesh has a thought that is as clear and sharp as the one he had on the control room roof. She’d fight. She’d do whatever it took to get to safety. She’d never give up, never, no matter how bad things got.
As sleep finally takes him, Prakesh has time to think one last thing. He’s going to escape. No, not just escape. He’s going to do what he promised himself, and get the rest of these people off this ship.