BLACKNESS GOBBLES UP the beam from my headlamp as I fly along the narrow corridor, barely avoiding cracking my skull on the pipes and casings protruding from the walls. Through the dimness, the shape of a hatch begins to form, round and metallic—a huge manual release adorning the front. Finally, an end to this horizonless trip down a rabbit hole. But what is that? Through the small window in the portal, something moves. The shadow passes over the glass. Then back again. It repeats this over and over, as if someone inside is pacing. A geminoid?

I extinguish my headlamp and float silently like a shadow to the hatch, then carefully peer over the lip of the window frame. Inside, there’s a little more light—a dashboard aglow with dials and buttons. A Creed blocks the doorway, its back to me. Sard.

The robot jerks into action, turning to pace, its magnetic boots clomping away. As it reveals its face, my stomach lurches. Nikolaj.

It’s him, and yet it’s not him. The rubbery skin perfectly simulates every aspect of my brother’s face—every crease and line. But the eyes don’t burn with the ambition I watched with envy growing up. My heart aches. I’m sorry, Nikolaj.

“Demitri, can you hear me?” Mila’s voice crackles over my earpiece.

Turning away from the door and ducking below the glass, I swallow, take a breath, and tap the mic on. “I’m here, Mila.”

“You any closer to shutting down that comms station?” she asks. “I’m almost at the disk.”

“I’ve run into another Creed. Not as easy to get in as we’d hoped.”

“I just watched you nearly rip the head off the last one. Whatever you did before, do it again. We don’t have much time.” She’s calm, but firm—and totally unaware she just asked me to murder my brother.

“Sure.”

“When you’re done, come to me. I need you.”

The earpiece crackles again, and she’s gone.

My chest is tight. The room spins, and my stomach swims for the thousandth time since this all began. I wish I were stronger, braver. Perhaps a god of my own would make me brave.

I tap my forehead again and again. Come on, think. There has to be some way out of this. But I just yearn to be back home with Nikolaj nagging me again.

You have no home. That’s what Vedmak would say. And he’d be right. He’d also just want to break every limb of that Creed, simply because it looks like Nikolaj. How ironic now that you’re gone, Vedmak, I need you.

Here goes nothing.

Forcing out a huff, I spin to face the window and turn on the headlamp. The cone of light streams through the glass. Within seconds, the lock clunks and the door opens inward, swinging effortlessly in zero gravity, to reveal the geminoid inside. My brother’s face stares back, illuminated only by my light. In that moment, there seems to be recognition in his face—a flicker, a lingering memory.

I’m sorry.

Screwing my eyes shut, I grab the robot by the head. It fights back immediately, clamping its cold hands around my forearms. The pressure is excruciating, my flesh crushed by the force. I yelp and twist its head as hard as possible.

The Creed’s neck snaps, and its spinal column severs with a loud crack. The robot freezes in its position—a toy without power. I yank my arms free, grab the open door as an anchor, and kick the robot directly in the chest. It uncouples from the magboots and floats away, back into the comms room, where it comes to rest against the wall. Trying not to look at it, I maneuver to the console, clasping at the walls, pipes, and other protrusions to gain purchase.

Several screens, an old-fashioned physical keyboard, knobs, and dials. Where the hell to begin? On the main screen, green letters flash: PASSWORD. Even if I crack it, I’ll have no idea how to access the comms protocol. This tech is too old. There isn’t even an intranet for me to access. We’re screwed.