Heat rushed to my cheeks. I was used to being the strong one, always on guard against any sign of weakness. But even I had to admit the alien ship was taking its toll. “I don’t want to be here anymore,” I confessed. The lights we’d strung across the corridor flickered, illuminating the smooth, blocky alien architecture, a constant reminder that we weren’t home. We weren’t anywhere humans were meant to be. “And no, I don’t have anything better to suggest at the moment. The second we’re spotted, Omnistellar will descend on us. We’ll all end up back in prison—if we’re lucky. If we stay here, we eventually run out of supplies, or we all kill each other due to stress. I don’t see a way out.”

He grinned bleakly. “You’d think escaping the most secure prison in the solar system would be the challenge, huh? Or the vicious aliens. Not keeping everyone’s heads together in the aftermath.”

I examined his eyes, warm and dark and sparkling and yet with a layer over them that kept anyone from seeing his true self, even me. “Don’t you feel it?” I demanded, fighting the nervous tremble in my voice. “You’re always so . . . so calm. Don’t you feel fear? Remorse? Worry? Does any of it touch you?”

For a moment that veil dropped, and turmoil raced behind his eyes. “Kenzie, you have no idea.”

And I didn’t. Because he didn’t tell me. Didn’t trust me. The silence between us grew taut and cold, and at last I forced a smile. “Our course was going to take us near Mars today. I’m going to check in with Rune, make sure we’re outside the range of their sensors. I’ll see you later.”

“Kenzie, wait.”

“What?” I faced him, arching an eyebrow, affecting an annoyed demeanor even as I hoped he would have something to say, some way to make things better. To alleviate the guilt. The fear. The pain.

But he only sighed. “Right. See you later,” he said.

“Yeah.” And with bitterness gnawing at my heart, I stalked across the corridor and out of sight.

TWO

USUALLY ONLY RUNE HUNG OUT in the command center, fiddling with technology, trying to force a bond with the computer, but even she had taken a break from her usual perch. A nest in the corner marked where she slept, a smattering of dirty clothes, electronic parts she’d pilfered from God knew where, and nutrient bars. Just the sight of them made my stomach turn over. We’d survived on nothing else for about three weeks now. The sickly sweet smell permeated the entire ship.

A series of raised symbols filled the fluid comm board, and I ran my fingers over them. I’d grown increasingly familiar with the alien language over the last few weeks, but not familiar enough to sight-read it. Like everyone else, I had my own set of powers, a “gift” from the aliens who’d sought to harvest us as hosts for their own reproduction. Rune bonded with computer systems. Me? I understood languages. I could communicate easily with Rune and her brother Cage in Mandarin, or with our friend Alexei in Russian.