Leo glanced down at his hands, at the flecks of white peeling from his fingers from the stones he had patched. What do you do when the well runs dry? The moment this world had nothing left to offer them, they disappeared, leaving the Orin to deal with the aftermath.

Crayt dove back into his contraption, carefully attaching some wires to their contacts, none of which were black or red. “Ask yourself: Who stands to lose the most from a galaxy without EL-four eight six? The Aykarian empire depends on the element. They could never conceive of a device such as this. You, on the other hand . . . you see things differently. Tell me, Leo Fender, what do you think will happen? Better still, what do you hope for?”

What did he hope for? To save the Earth, obviously. That’s why he was here, after all.

And yet . . . that wasn’t all. It wasn’t even the heart of it. There was a wish that ran deeper, one Leo had long before his father sent him to find Zirkus Crayt. Before he stowed away on board the Icarus. Even before his dad was taken. The wish he made every time he stared through the window of the Beagle at the endless stretch of stars.

“I want my family back,” he said softly. “I want to go home.”

But of course there still had to be a home to go back to.

“How very human of you,” Crayt said. “The Aykari do not believe in hope. We . . . they . . . have no word for it, even. Hope implies uncertainty. It hinges on forces outside of one’s control. The Aykari do not hope for the future—they dictate that future. They believe everything is within their power. But to deny someone power is a kind of power itself. Perhaps this device will help them see the error of their ways.” Crayt fixed Leo with his deep blue eyes. “That, at least, is my hope.”

Leo mustered a half smile. Crayt acknowledged it with a blink, then turned his attention back to his work. “Now, this last part is especially delicate. I could use a steady hand. Would that be you?”

Leo held out his trembling hands. Too much adrenaline and too little sleep.

“A mechanical’s precision perhaps. Where has Number One gone to? She usually assists me with such matters.”

Leo hadn’t seen the robot since the successful test. “I’ll go find her,” he said.

He left Crayt huddled over his workbench and made his way down the corridor, peeking in every room he passed till he came to the one at the end, the same place he’d discovered the Aykari the night before, when Leo had caught him sifting through his father’s files just like he said he wouldn’t. Curiosity is a dangerous thing.

The room was dark. Number One was standing at the main console, plugged into the data receptacle through one fingertip, though the screen above her was blank. Undergoing some kind of routine maintenance, perhaps. Leo cleared his throat.