SILENCE—A STILLNESS like I’ve never experienced before. In Etyom there’s always some racket: a generator running, screams in the streets, a bar fight. Etyom is not silent—ever.

My eyes open with great care, unsure if I’ll be among the living or the dead, but I’m greeted only by darkness. I’m inside the rocket. If the rocket wasn’t destroyed, and it launched ... I’m in space.

Why does my head hurt? I must have passed out. Am I in a cargo area or a maintenance hatch? Is it safe in here? As I attempt to sit up, the strange sense of weightlessness pulses through my stomach.

“Demitri?” More silence. “Demitri.”

“I’m here. Keep your voice down.” As he glides toward me, the lamp on his head illuminates his blood-soaked clothing. His grisly appearance is out of place with his meek personality.

“What happened to you? Where’d you go?”

Demitri paws at the blood on his face and clothes. “I don’t really remember. Vedmak took over. It was bad this time.”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m a little sore, but yes, I think so. The people I came into contact with fared worse, I’m afraid.”

“Are you in control now?”

“For now. He tricked me and used a drug to subdue my consciousness for a time. I think I’ll be all right.”

“Where are we?”

“I think it’s the cargo hold.”

“But we’re in ...” I motion to his floating body.

“In space? Yes, with our dumb luck, we actually made it.”

“I can’t believe it. We just left everybody.”

“We had to,” Demitri says. “They’re resourceful people. I’m sure Denni has some gadget to help keep everyone safe.”

Denni. He doesn’t know.

“What?”

“Denni. She didn’t make it.”

“Oh.” Demitri’s face grows solemn.

“I’m sorry, Demitri. She was overtaken by Rippers and detonated her satchel while she was still on the bridge.”

He doesn’t say anything for a long while.

“It’s not your—ˮ

“But it is, isn’t it? If I hadn’t abandoned everyone ...”

“We both abandoned them. We had to. We didn’t have a choice.”

“On the rocket maybe, but if I’d had control of Vedmak, Denni might still be alive.”

There’s not much I can say to that.

He turns and pushes off the bulkhead, floating away into the dark.

Can I live with myself? What choice do I have? Someone had to finish this. I didn’t die. My dream was incomplete. There’s still work to do.

“Demitri,” I call after him, pushing off into the dark passage. “We can’t bring them back. But we can make sure they didn’t die in vain. You may not believe in Yeos, but He believes in you. He has a plan for us both. And right now, we are the best hope for everyone—Robusts and Graciles.”

“I know. It just isn’t fair.”

“If life were perfect, Demitri, it wouldn’t be.”

“That’s pretty profound. From the Writ?”

“My brother, actually. He used to say it to me. Didn’t really get it myself until now.”

He allows a gentle smile, but who knows if it’s genuine.

Demitri believes my religion is a security blanket designed for weak-minded children, that without it I’m as broken as he is. In that regard, he’s right. I am badly broken. But it’s my acceptance of this brokenness, and my need for Yeos, that draws me back to life. For what he doesn’t understand is the wellspring of hope that can be found in true faith. How the power of belief can triumph over even the worst of circumstances—that even when we’re lost, and alone, and beaten, we are never truly these things because we rest in the knowledge that the hand of our creator is upon us.

How would I know about the love Yeos has for me if I hadn’t been told about it? How would the gift of the Lightbringer be real to me? It wouldn’t, and thus, I can’t expect Demitri to understand, unless I choose to show him.

Demitri clears his throat. “You want to see something?”

“Sure.”

“I figured out his backup plan. If it all goes wrong. If he creates strange matter. He’s prepared to start over.”

“Start over?”

“The cargo hold of this ship is full of Gracile embryos.”

“What?”

“Genetically enhanced embryos. If he botches up the black hole, he can start over up here.”

“He’s trying to play God.”

The Gracile nods. “The Leader is in the station now. I have an idea, but we may not have much time.”

“The station?”

“Follow me.” We propel ourselves toward a small window. “Look.” Demitri gestures.

Through the small porthole, I see it: we’re connected to a huge space station. Behind it sits my home, my planet, glowing blue and white. I’ve never seen anything so beautiful in my entire life.

“Look here now.” Demitri taps the glass. “That’s Asgardia—or at least it was going to be.”

“Asgardia?”

“It started almost as a joke, an experiment in how willing humans were to jump ship and create a whole new nation free of the bonds of tyranny, capitalism, and politics. It was laughed at—until the New Black Death took hold. Huge amounts of money were poured into building a long-term habitable environment for humanity to survive here. This is the result.”

“What happened with it?”

“It was never fully realized. The NBD happened too fast.”

“But this station is still operational?”

“Entirely,” he says. “The Leader just had to provide the sustainable power source—my brother’s miniature fusion reactor.”

“Okay, what next?”

“I have an idea, but it’s a little far flung.”

I give Demitri a stern look, urging him to continue.

“The Leader needs to fire the supercollider under Fiori from up here,” he continues, “probably using the ancient spacenet set up between Asgardia and Earth. You’ll have to distract the Leader while I shut down his connection to the spacenet.”

“Can we do that?”

“I think so, but remember—”

“You have no idea if this will work, do you.”

He shakes his head slowly. “No. It’s an assumption.”

“Okay.” I rub my hands together. “Where do we start?”

“We’ll climb up into the cockpit and then into the equalization chamber. Hopefully we can do so unnoticed and make our way to the Leader.”

“You know where he is?”

Demitri shrugs. “If I had to guess? The control platform inside the disk. It’s the only place with gravity.” He taps his fingers on his forehead.

“We need to split up. How do we communicate?”

“With these.” He holds up a small circular plug.

“What’s that?”

“It goes in your ear. It will allow us to talk to each other.”

“Where’d you get it?”

Demitri looks flustered. “Here in the ship. What does it matter?”

“It matters. I’m not jacking myself up with strange tech.”

“You’re not jacking, it’s ... You used Denni’s radio to talk to Ghofaun, correct?”

“Yes.”

“This isn’t different. It’s a miniature radio. Take it out when you’re done. You’re not jacking it in permanently.”

I warily accept the small device. “A radio that fits inside your ear? Nothing else?”

“Nothing else.”

“And I can take it out whenever I choose?”

“Yes. I don’t see what the fuss is about. Try it.”

I purse my lips and frown at Demitri as I push the small plug into my ear.

“See? Not so bad. Let’s test it. Put your finger on the surface and twist like this to activate the transmitter.”

Again, I follow his direction. A bleep sounds in my ear and makes me jump.

“That’s just it turning on. Adjust the volume by tapping it.” He turns his on. “Can you hear me?”

Inside my head his voice repeats the words with a short delay.

“Now you know what it feels like to be me.” Demitri gives a little laugh, his small voice repeating inside my inner ear.

“Not funny.”

“It is, though,” he says with a smile that fades. “Mila?”

“Yes?”

“I never thought I’d say this to a Robust.” He swallows. “Whatever happens, I want you to know how much I ... respect you. You have a strength and character I’ve never had. I’m glad you’re not like me—or any other Gracile for that matter.”

“You’re not a bad person, Demitri.”

He turns his head away, but I reach forward and turn his shoulders back toward me. “Whatever our great differences, I appreciate you for being here with me in this. I consider you a friend.”

He looks flustered and quickly changes the subject, “Hey, uh ... look.” He motions out the window. “The Leader has activated the artificial gravity. He’s almost got the station completely powered up.”

“I see it.”

“I’m afraid the odds aren’t in our favor, and we’re running out of time. Are you ready?”

“I’m ready. The odds are irrelevant. We can do this. Are you with me, Demitri?” I take a deep breath and hold out my hand.

He accepts it with a firm shake. “I’m with you, Mila.”

Up through the cargo hold, we float toward a closed portal. Demitri pulls on a lever and the hatch glides open. Before us is another chamber.

“What is this?”

“It’s an equalization chamber. It’s harmless. Get in.”

I pull myself into the sterile chamber alongside Demitri. He secures the door and then cranks a lever on the wall. With a hiss, the pressure in the chamber equalizes.

“Okay, I’ll head for the tech platform, and you—ˮ

A green light registers on the wall, and the hatch to the station flies open. Anchored to the floor by magnetic boots are two Creed soldiers. They stare blankly at us—their heads twitching. “Intruder,” one calls out.

I grab a support bar above the door’s opening and kick the soldier on the right square across the front of his visor. To my surprise, Demitri thrusts off the wall, grabbing the other geminoid and wrenching its head around, disabling it with brute force.

Taking his cue, I wrap my legs around the neck of the Creed, pull a straight-blade knife from my waistband and drive it through the side of its skull. The robot spasms, then stills. Its internal processor silenced, it floats slowly away like a hunk of garbage. I kick it to create more distance and replace my knife.

Demitri is staring at his hands. “I didn’t mean to ... I mean, I did, but ... I just did what came naturally, I didn’t mean to kill—”

“Just go, Demitri,” I shout, pushing off in the direction of the giant spinning disk. “Shut up and go.” The Leader knows we’re here.