Well, no one else was going to say it. As much as I’d tried to leave the guard behind, I kept embracing that role. Someone had to think responsibly. “So, we either keep going with this ship broadcasting our signal, not to mention our solar system’s, to the aliens, or . . .” A sinking feeling rose in my chest, and I fought it down. After everything we’d been through, after our daring escape . . . “Or we find a way to destroy it from outside.”

Cage nodded, his thoughts already mirroring mine. “And the only way we can do that . . .”

“Is to turn ourselves in.”

THREE

TURNING OURSELVES IN TO OMNISTELLAR was a true nightmare. For the rest of the kids on the ship, it meant going right back to the hellhole they’d escaped, a lifetime of imprisonment for no reason other than their powers or, as Mia pointed out, worse, since they’d proven they could escape a high-security prison once. For me, though . . . I was a corporate traitor. That was the lowest of the low. Sure, people could, and did, switch corporations, leaving one behind for another, but that only happened rarely and with the possibility of advancement. There were policies to follow, rules to obey. Actually betraying your corporation, turning on it, was almost unheard of, and I would be lucky if imprisonment was the worst I faced.

Predictably, Mia didn’t take the news very well, shouting and ranting until Alexei quietly asked, “Would you rather bring the aliens here?”

That shut her up. Because even Mia, with all her bravado, knew better. At Alexei’s words, a stillness settled over us as everyone relived the horror of those moments on Sanctuary: tails slithering, claws lashing, speed and blood and the high, hissing rattle that meant you’d been found.

No. We couldn’t go through that again. And we certainly couldn’t bring them to Earth.

But that didn’t make anyone happy with our choices.

The hours following Rune’s discovery passed in a blur of action, Cage insisting on speed. “We need to move fast,” he said. “Not give anyone too much time to think.” As usual, he was right about that stuff. People fell into line out of simple relief that someone else was taking charge, and no one asked too many questions. Cage was always able to predict how the others would react. It was only me he couldn’t seem to figure out.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” he muttered now. He leaned against the console, fists braced on its edge, as if the symbols in front of him might start to resolve into English, or maybe just helpfully tell him what they said.

“That makes two of us.” Mia unfolded herself from where she leaned against the doorframe. “You guys sure?”

I nodded and met her eyes, searching for stability, reliability, something to trust. “We’re counting on you if things go bad.”