“Yeah,” Amy says, offering me a hint of a smile. “You do.”

We stare at Orion’s cryo chamber.

“What do these numbers mean?” Amy asks, pointing to the LCD screen on the front of the box.

I watch the numbers tick down. “It’s a countdown clock.”

“I was afraid of that.”

I bend down, examining the electronics. Apparently, Doc already started the regeneration process. Orion should be unfrozen within twenty-three hours and forty-two minutes. I try to stop the clock, but even though I turn the dial, the screen continues to tick away time.

“Just turn it off,” Amy says, bending down to look at the electronics.

“We can’t just unplug it,” I say. I’ve definitely learned my lesson about that one.

“Well, make it stop.”

“I can’t,” I say, fiddling with the dials some more. I notice the screen and keypad. “Doc’s locked up the system.”

“Reset it.”

I hesitate. “That could be dangerous. If regeneration has already started, it could damage his body if we just stop it.”

“It’s only been going on for twenty minutes,” Amy says. “It can’t do that much harm.”

But I’m remembering how I froze Orion without preparing his body. He’s already damaged from that. Messing with the cryo tube now might kill him.

“I don’t care if it’s dangerous. He needs to stay frozen.”

“Amy, it’s not that simple. I can’t. The cryo chamber is only programmed to go one way.”

“I don’t want him to wake up,” Amy says in a very quiet voice.

I look at Amy and bite my lip. Because I do.

I don’t know if it’s because of our shared DNA or because I understand the choices he’s made. Maybe it’s because of the guns in the armory or the ship records in the bridge. Maybe it’s because I’m starting to think Doc was right, and Orion would be a better leader than me. But Orion doesn’t seem as loons as before.

Amy puts her hand on my elbow, drawing my gaze away from the countdown clock and back to her. “I couldn’t kill him.”

I stare, unsure of how to respond.

“Doc. He had a gun on me. On you. I didn’t know which of us he’d shoot.”

I touch the bandage on Amy’s arm—not firmly enough to put any pressure on her wound.

“It’s just a graze. But when the gun was pointed at us, I thought, ‘I have to kill him, or he’ll kill one of us.’ But I didn’t. I couldn’t.”

“Why are you—”