Momma reaches down, opening the boxes one after another and placing four glass vials on the desk. They seem almost completely clear at first glance, but when the light hits them, a barely perceptible glimmer of color appears in their depths. I frown. Is this really a weapon that can end the war? It looks so small, so insubstantial, especially in comparison to the things I’ve seen here on Titan… though in an odd way, the swirling colors remind me of the steady movement on that alien ship. The longer I look at the vials, the more they fill me with unease—and yet, at the same time, it’s hard to look away.

Momma stiffens upon opening the last box, pulling me from my thoughts. Altair is busy studying the other vials, but I watch her, my own body tensing at her quiet alarm. After a long moment, she shuts the box, straightens up in her seat, and folds her empty hands on her lap.

“As you can understand, the president had a few reservations about Gaia’s first interplanetary deal of this magnitude,” she says, her face unreadable, her tension subdued but not gone. “At her request, we will be holding on to the final vial until the power source is secure on our ship.”

Altair tears his eyes away from the vials. The corners of his mouth tighten.

“That wasn’t part of our deal.”

“Well, it is now.”

I glance back and forth between the two of them, unsure if I should say something. Neither is outwardly hostile yet, but the tension is palpable. My heart rate rises. Why would Momma change the terms of the deal at the last minute? She knows as well as I do how suspicious Altair can be. I think again of Momma tensing the moment she opened the final box, how quickly she closed it. The box that Scorpia retrieved and brought here. My blood goes cold.

No. She couldn’t have taken it. She knew how much danger it would put us in. She wouldn’t do that. Would she?

“Then I have an additional condition as well,” Altair says, rising from his seat. “You will accompany one of my sergeants to test the weapon before the agreement is finalized.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m no soldier.”

“And I’m no fool. I will have the weapon demonstrated or the deal is off.”

Momma is silent for a long moment. I know she hates to get her hands dirty in such a way. But what choice does she have? She’s merely a middle-woman between two planets. She has nothing to negotiate with.

Then she glances at me, and my stomach drops as I see her calculating eyes. She does have one option. She could send me in her stead. Please, I think at her desperately, though I can’t bring myself to speak. Please, no more. Don’t send me back to the war.