And he’s right. I do know it. I saw the reluctance in his eyes, the way he protested my immediate reaction to land the ship.

“I have faith in him,” I say. And much more than that, I think.

Doc shakes his head as if I’m a student who can’t answer the homework question correctly.

“You don’t think I put all my faith in Victria, do you?” he asks, sneering over the word. And he pulls out his own gun. It sits weirdly in his hand. Like Victria, he’s unsure of how to hold it. Still, it’s not like a gun is hard to figure out. The killing end’s pointed at me, and that’s enough.

I widen my stance, making my feet even with my shoulders. I was raised with guns like a proper military brat; my father made sure I knew how to protect myself, to treat weapons as tools, not toys. I’ve never been more grateful for the Saturdays at the target range than I am now. I breathe out and feel the cool metal of the trigger under my finger.

“You can’t kill me,” Doc says.

“You’re right,” I say, and pull the trigger.

Chapter 67

67

ELDER

I SEE IT ALL IN SLOW MOTION, WITH EVERYTHING FUZZY around the edges. The bang from the gun bursts out; a cloud of acrid smoke evaporates quickly, leaving behind only the smell of copper and burning. Doc crumples, an explosion of red erupting from his leg. Amy dives forward, soaring through the air, smacking a pale green patch on Doc’s arm.

Another bang. Another gun. Doc’s gun.

Another burst of smoke and blood.

Amy crashes down, clutching her arm. Dark red blood seeps through her fingers.

She pulls her hand away, presses her wi-com. Shouts.

She staggers to Victria. Drops to her knees beside the body.

I see it all but can’t move, can’t react. Everything’s so heavy and slow. I just stare as Amy screams, choking on her own sobs. Amy presses both hands into the blossoming red stain across the front of Victria’s tunic. Blood leaks out of Amy’s own sleeve, but she ignores it, intent on putting pressure on Victria’s wound.

I move my head and stare impassively at Doc. His dull eyes meet mine. The green patch on his arm ensures that he just lies there, ignoring the bullet in his leg.

I turn back to Amy and Victria.

“NO!” Amy says.

Victria’s hand reaches toward Doc. No. Toward Orion.

“NO!” Amy screams again.

She throws her weight against Victria. Blood pumps between her fingers, spurting out in bubbles of crimson.

“No,” Amy whispers.

Victria’s hand goes slack.

My face is wet. I raise my hand and touch my cheek. The tears drip from my fingers like the blood dripping from Amy’s.

Chapter 68

68

AMY