There’s no way Koji just said what I think he said. I keep the gun pointed at him. The only sound is my breathing, harsh and hot.
“I knew your father,” he says. “I was with John Hale on the Akua Maru. I—”
“Shut up.”
I get to my feet slowly, keeping a very, very tight grip on the gun.
“Look,” Koji says, spreading his hands slowly. “My name is Koji Yamamoto. I was born on Outer Earth, in Tzevya. I was a junior officer on John Hale’s crew. We crash-landed in eastern Russia eight years ago.”
This isn’t possible. The Akua Maru was thought destroyed, lost forever. It wasn’t. My father was still on Earth, and with Janice Okwembu’s help, he managed to repair the ship, intending to use it to destroy a station he thought had abandoned him. We thought the rest of the ship’s crew were dead.
“You’re lying,” I say. But is he? How could he know any of this? How else would he know the names John Hale and Akua Maru? Could Okwembu have told him? But why would she?
“How do you know who I am?” I say.
Koji lowers his eyes. “You look just like him.”
I lift the gun a little higher, and he starts speaking more quickly. “I knew he had a daughter, but I never thought… you have his eyes. You are his daughter, right? Riley?”
“The Akua landed in eastern Russia,” I say. “That’s a long, long way from here.”
He nods. “Kamchatka. Some of us survived the crash. We decided to head east, see if we could find anything. We crossed the Bering Strait, ended up here.”
“Why tell me this now? Why not say anything before?”
A pained expression crosses his face. “I was scared. All right? They would have killed me if I tried to help you.” He points to Iluk’s body.
“So you wait until I’m the one with the gun,” I say. “Convenient.”
“I’m telling the truth, I swear.” He’s trembling now, overcome with emotion. “I don’t know what happened to your father–he wanted to stay with the ship, but if you—”
“Shut up,” I say for the second time. I have to calm my racing mind. I have to think.
Right now, it doesn’t matter who Koji is, or where he came from. What matters is that he might be the only person here who could help me. There’s no chance of taking Okwembu down yet–not with one gun, not when she’s on the ship’s bridge. But she’s not the only reason I’m here.
“Uncuff me,” I say.
He gives a helpless shrug. “Ray had the key. I’m sorry.”
I bite back the frustration. Nothing I can do–I’ll just have to live with it. “I’m looking for two people,” I say. “Their names are Aaron Carver and Prakesh Kumar.” I have to assume that they’re alive–I almost physically recoil from the alternative.
Koji shakes his head, and I feel my stomach drop a couple of inches. “We’ve had some new people,” he says. “I don’t know their names.”
“Tell me about these arrivals. What happens to them?”
“They get put to work. All across the ship.”
“Where?”
Sweat is trickling down his face. “All over. Depends on what needs doing. But the closest is probably the generator room. We’ve been having some power problems, so—”
“Take me there,” I say. “Right now.”
I make him go first, keeping my gun up, ignoring the burn in my cuffed hands. We’re almost at the corridor entrance when he says, “Wait. You need to give me the gun.”
“Are you serious?”
“You don’t understand,” he says, licking his lips. “What do you think is going to happen if someone sees you marching me at gunpoint?”
“They’ll do nothing. Because if they do, I’ll shoot you.” The words sound hollow, even to me.
“You think they care?” Koji shakes his head. “If we’re going to find your friends, then you’re going to have to trust me.”
“Why should I?” I say.
“Because—” He stops, looks away. “Because I owe your father. I owe him everything.”
I don’t move.
“Please,” he says.
My finger tightens on the trigger.
Then slowly, very slowly, I pass him the gun. I’m already visualising the angles, anticipating what he’ll do. The moment he brings the gun around, I can swing my hands into the side of the barrel, knock it away, then shoulder-charge him, which should—
But he holds the gun as if it’s an unexploded bomb, keeping it pointed at the floor. He tries a smile, but it’s gone before it can fully form.
We resume our walk down the corridor. Every so often, Koji will tell me to turn left or right, directing me deeper into the ship. He’s visibly trembling, trying to look everywhere at once. It’s hard to imagine someone like him surviving in this place.
“How did you end up here, anyway?” I say.
“Me and two of the crew–Dominguez and Rogers,” Koji says. “We left the crash site. Rogers, she… she didn’t make it.”
He goes silent for a moment. Then he says, “There was this radio message. Talking about food and shelter.”
“I’ve heard it.”
“It was a lie. Obviously. I got put to work like everyone else.”
“But you’re not a worker any more.”
“No. I figured out what the Engine—”
At that moment, a shape blocks out the light from the passage above us. Koji swears quietly, not looking up. I keep my gaze on the corridor ahead.
Footsteps descend the stairs behind us. “Hey,” a voice calls out.
Neither of us responds–I’m waiting for Koji to say something, but he stays silent.
“Hey,” says the voice again, louder this time, and now it’s accompanied by heavy footsteps, clumping down the corridor behind us.
Koji looks round. “Just bringing her to the work detail at the generators,” he says, nodding at me.
I keep my eyes on the floor. The man is wearing thick work boots, much too big for him, as if he took them from somebody else.
“Where’s Ray?” says the man, his voice gruff.
Koji shrugs. “Probably with Iluk somewhere.”
“Go find them. Something’s happened in the farm, we need every available…”
He trails off. I flick my eyes upwards, and that’s when I recognise him. Sandy hair, red face. He was on the bridge when I was brought in, and I can see recognition sparking to life in his eyes, see the yell forming on his lips.