Naomi still had her tablet, but she’d been afraid to check it too often. Valerie would know that Naomi was in contact with someone on Earth, and she’d have to assume it was Evan. Hopefully she’d think it was only through the console in the rec room, not on the tablet. More likely, Valerie knew about the tablet but let Naomi keep it so she could monitor their conversations. There were no new messages. Naomi had tapped out a terse update. It wasn’t easy telling him that his mother had destroyed the world and sentenced her own son to die.

Naomi wouldn’t be able to force her way out of the lab—she’d have to use charm. Machines were harder to break than people.

When Lebedeva came to collect the nutriblocks, Naomi stood in the corner as instructed, hands on her head, the purple tubes of the algae pressed against her back.

“I need to see Hart, so she can check on the baby,” Naomi said.

“No, you do not. You just had scan after we jumped. You are up to something,” Lebedeva said.

“I’m under a lot of stress. I want reassurance.”

Lebedeva grunted. “I will mention it to Dr. Black.”

“Thank you. Oksana—” Naomi tried. She hadn’t dared use Lebedeva’s given name before this.

“Do not bother, Naomi,” Lebedeva said, packing the nutriblocks in a bag. She’d returned the favour at least. That was something. A little chink in her armour. “You are not changing my mind. I know where I stand.”

“Eight billion people,” Naomi said, switching to Russian. Valerie was undoubtedly listening, but she didn’t speak the language. “They are dying as we speak. How many yesterday? How many tomorrow? How many right now?” She stumbled, a little, and her accent was atrocious.

Lebedeva paused, pinching a nutriblock hard enough to warp the shape. “It does not matter.” She spoke English.

“It does,” Naomi said, stubbornly continuing in Russian. “It has almost certainly spread beyond California now. It will be out of the U.S. by next week. You still have family in Russia. They are at risk.” She didn’t know how to express in Russian that she suspected Valerie hadn’t even dosed Bryony, and the woman had killed the planet for a broken promise of inoculation. “Valerie… she uses people, Oksana. She has done it to me my whole life, and I was too stupid to see it.”

She was pushing hard. A week ago, she wouldn’t have. It was freeing, in a way, to know with such clarity what was important and what was immaterial.

Lebedeva didn’t respond. The grow lights turned her blond hair violet, and her eyelashes cast shadows on her cheeks. The muscles of her jaw clenched.

“Oksana—”