Something touched down on the canyon floor on the other side of the wreck. Through the tenuous nitrogen atmosphere, I heard the whine of its engines. The downdraught from its thrusters sent billows of dust and smaller fragments tumbling out from beneath the jammed section of the ’dam’s hull. Its landing lights threw long shadows through the debris field.

“We keep walking,” I said. “We stay out of sight, and we stay alive.”

* * *

The corner was a perfect, knife-sharp right angle. As soon as we were around it and out of sight of the wreck, we paused for breath. Hard, bright stars filled the strip of sky two kilometres above us. Our chests heaved and my injured arm ached. From behind, echoing up the canyon from the crash site, I caught a series of soft whines.

Adam cocked his head.

“What’s that?”

“Gauss rifles.” I knew the sound well. “I expect they’re shooting the survivors.”

Adam gave me a disapproving look.

“That’s not funny.”

“I’m not joking.” Whoever was back there had brought magnetic rifles, and they didn’t seem to be hesitant about using them.

“Come on.” I took hold of his upper arm. “We should keep moving.”

He hung back like an unwilling child. “Shouldn’t we do something?”

“There isn’t anything we can do.”

“But those people—”

I held up a hand. I was acutely aware that when the shooting stopped, the attackers would probably widen their search for survivors. If we were caught here, between the smooth, vertical walls of the canyon, we would be easy targets.

“They were people,” I told him. “But now they’re dead. There’s nothing we can do to help. We have to help ourselves.”

Adam swallowed. I could see he was going to argue, so I slapped him. The sound of it echoed off the walls.

“Right now, grief’s a luxury we can’t afford.” I spoke quickly, while he was still reeling from the blow. My palm stung, but I kept my voice low and dangerous. “When we’re safe, you can weep for the dead. You can write them a fucking sonnet. Until then, you need to stay close to me and follow orders. Do you understand?”

He blinked at me and cradled his cheek.

“Do you understand?”

“I—”

“DO. YOU. UN. DER. STAND?”

“Y-yes.”

“Yes WHAT?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

I turned on my heel and marched away, knowing he would trail along in my wake. He had no place else to go. His whole world had been upended, and he needed me to look after him, to tell him what to do. As long as I kept him moving and busy, he wouldn’t have time to succumb to shock.