SPLINTERING CRAMPS RIPPLE up and down JC’s legs. She forces herself to move. Nothing. She reaches down and clamps her finger around her thigh, massaging the muscle. The free-flowing blood restores her circulation.

Scott belts Amye to the examination table. “She attacks another crewmember—I’m going to space her.”

“Harsh much, Lieutenant?”

“Discipline should be educational—death teaches nothing,” Australia snaps at her lover.

“She’s going to kill one of us.” Scott weaves the belt end back through the loop. “Where the smerth did you learn to fight like Joe?”

“A long time ago. Get back to the bridge and locate Reynard,” JC orders.

“Her directive is correct,” Australia confirms.

“Then you two work out what to do about her.” Scott storms from the medical bay.

As soon as the door seals, Australia orders, “Blank her.”

“No.”

“I know of no other way to rid her of her demons.”

“Blanking is forbidden. I don’t know how,” JC lies. “It won’t fix genetic problems. If she’s predisposed to addiction, Blanking won’t prevent her from returning to the bottle.”

“Commander Reynard will have to discharge her. She is a danger to herself and the crew,” Australia says.

“You work it out with William after we recover him,” JC says.

“Keep her sedated until we recover the commander,” Australia orders.

“Athena, prepare a sedative to inhibit alcohol absorption.”

“There are medications to prevent her from desiring the taste of alcohol,” Australia says.

JC loads a syringe gun. “Drugs to prevent the ingestion of other body-altering substances will not cure her. Addictions are in the mind.”

“Which is the justification to why you should Blank her.”

“Blanking is much like a computer reset. You would have to reload the software. I’m not going to reteach her to wipe after she uses the bathroom,” JC says as she places two squares on each side of Amye’s forehead. Vital life sign readouts appear on the monitor. “It was developed for serial murders, not as a cure for drug dependency.” JC unzips her jacket, exposing the scratches and bruises on her chest.

“Did the altercation with Amye damage you in such a manner?”

She rubs some of the orange bacterium over scratches. “The claw marks. The contusions are from attempting to reach the Hex Darmight.”

“The orb did harm to you?” Australia asks.

“I felt something darker.”

“If it attracts Sandmen—”

“We attract the Sandmen. They will destroy us for uncovering the orb,” JC says.

“Did you know this before you entered Ki-Ton’s temple? You said you had a future vision. What did you see regarding the Sandmen?”

“Flashes. Events out of context until we get close to their happening,” JC lies.

“But you witnessed your death?”

“You should be on the bridge. Your captain crashed.” JC zips up her jacket.

“Between your cryptic visions, a cat guide without a map and a captain who fails to remain aboard his ship compounds locating the Hex Darmight fragments and end these Sandmen,” Scott snaps.

Once alone in the medical bay, JC wakes Michelle.

Groggy, the princess realizes she’s back on the Silver Dragon. “Where’s Amye?”

“She’s on the main table. I sedated her.”

“It’s not her fault. I—”

“She told us she took you off ship to stretch your legs.”

“But—”

“I need you to speak with her. It will stimulate her mind.” JC instructs, “Whatever you do, or if she wakes, don’t release the straps.”