Top bumps against Ester’s leg. He makes a little whimper, looking up at her with his mournful Pet me eyes. That’s when I realize Ester has been silently crying. Top is really earning his dog biscuits.

“Hey,” I tell Ester. “We’ll get through this—”

She makes a noise somewhere between a sniffle and a hiccup. Then she rushes out of the bridge, Top right behind her.

“I’ll go after her,” Nelinha offers.

“No, I’ll do it,” I say. “Nelinha, show Tia your LOCUS thingy. If it works, I want it installed right away.”

“LOCUS thingy?” Tia asks.

Nelinha holds up her metal tennis ball/Slinky catastrophe.

“Cool,” Tia says. As I’m turning to leave, she calls, “Ana, I want to try one more thing with Hewett’s control pad. When his drones flew over the campus, they would’ve tried to sync with the school’s intranet.”

I suppress a shiver. “But the school had already been destroyed.”

Tia hesitates. “The computer systems were designed to withstand a lot. Like the black boxes on airplanes. It’s possible the drones retrieved some data before the intranet died completely.”

I don’t feel confident about this plan. More data will mean more pain, more reminders of what we’ve lost, but I manage a nod. “Sounds fine. Keep up the good work.”

Then I jog after Ester and Top.

Chapter Twenty

I find Ester in the ship’s library.

On past trips, it’s been one of our favorite spots. The walls are lined floor-to-ceiling with books: everything from physics manuals to recent best sellers. Wooden crossbars secure the shelves to keep volumes from flying around when the ship moves. The mahogany study table has armchairs for six. Against the back wall is a comfy old corduroy sofa that we always fight over when we have free time. When we had free time. There won’t be much of that for the foreseeable future. Ester is curled up at one end, clutching a leather-bound book in her lap. Top lies next to her, wagging his tail.

“Hey…” I sit cross-legged on the rug at Ester’s feet. This gets me a sloppy wet kiss from Top.

“It’s my fault.” Ester sniffles. “I needed to…They have to let me rebuild. They will, won’t they? I didn’t bring extra index cards. I’m so stupid. It’s all my fault.”

I don’t follow everything she’s saying. Sometimes when Ester talks, you just have to go along for the ride and enjoy the scenery. But one thing I do understand.

“None of this is your fault, Ester.”

“It is. I’m a Harding.”

I would give her a hug right now, but she isn’t like Nelinha. Unexpected physical contact with anyone other than Top, especially when she’s feeling upset, makes her uncomfortable. Exceptions are hugs she asks for and the occasional tackle in combat training.