“So it’s true,” he whispered. “You let it happen. You just let those people die.” You let my mother die.

“We took the necessary measures to protect the planet’s resources, and then we seized the opportunity to ensure humanity’s commitment to our cause. Your species needed to see the Djarik as an immediate threat. A wounded animal fights fiercest.”

Leo’s breaths grew uneven. He felt for the inhaler nestled in his pocket, wrapping his fingers around it, determined to stay afloat, but three years of anger and grief dragged him down. It was one thing hearing this from the Djarik. Even from his father. Those were accusations. This was a confession.

He could see Baz struggling with it as well. The captain’s jaw was clenched, hands too, as he glared at the Aykari.

“It was a strategic gamble,” Lark continued, as if he was merely reciting history. “But your species reacted exactly as expected.”

With that, Black snapped. In a heartbeat he had one of his pistols free of its holster, angling up beneath the Aykari’s chin. Leo froze. Part of him wanted to reach out, to ease Baz’s arm down. Another part of him wanted to see if the captain would pull the trigger.

Baz leaned in close to Lark, speaking in little more than a whisper. “I was there when you took that gamble. You wanted us angry? Wanted to see if we could fight?” He shifted his aim, pressing the barrel of his gun against the Aykari’s broad, sloping forehead. “Mission accomplished.”

Boo stepped close. “Don’t do it, Bastian. It’s not worth it. You’d only be proving his point.”

“I think I could live with that,” Baz responded.

Lark didn’t flinch, even with the barrel of a gun dimpling his near translucent skin. Leo expected the alien’s eyes to start glowing like cinders, but he stayed calm, staring not at the pistol but at the man holding it. “You should listen to the Queleti,” he said. “If you kill me, you will not find what you are looking for. I assure you, I am the only one who can lead you to Zirkus Crayt.”

Baz shrugged. “I’ll take my chances with that too.”

Leo held his breath, watched Black’s eyes, the icy resolve. He could do it, take this Aykari’s life. He certainly looked like he wanted to. Small vengeance for what happened five years ago.

“I am not what you think I am,” Lark said.

Not what you think I am. Something about that sounded odd to Leo.

I assure you.

I am the only one.

The Aykari always referred to themselves in the first person plural. It was always we or us. It was supposedly a mark of how much more advanced their civilization was—that they had moved beyond individuality and fully embraced the wants and needs of the collective.

Lark clearly wasn’t part of that collective anymore.

“Kill me if you think it justice,” Lark continued. “But I assure you, you will not be teaching the Aykari any lessons. If anything, you might be doing them a favor.”