Leo still wasn’t convinced, but he followed his dad’s example and got a buttery spoonful himself. It wasn’t terrible, though not half as good without the streusel topping. The butter kept it from being too dry. The fresh blueberries still melted in his mouth.

“I can’t believe you were about to throw these away. They’re delicious.”

“They taste okay,” Leo said. “But look at them. They look awful.”

Dr. Fender shrugged. “It’s what’s on the inside that counts.”

The two of them sat side by side and finished their muffin guts in silence, then split open seconds, the charred tops piling up in the trash can. This time his father held his spoonful up to Leo.

“To your mother,” he said.

Leo clinked his spoon with his dad’s. “To Mom.”

That bite was a little tougher to swallow.

Leo swallowed hard. He wished he could snap his fingers and turn back time. Follow Baz’s initial instinct to not walk through that door.

The door that had automatically shut behind them, sealing them inside. The gun platforms that emerged from the ceiling were fixed on Baz and Kat, presumably because they were visibly armed, but the behemoth known as Number Nine had at least one of its barrels trained on each of them. Leo kept his hands up, fearing the slightest movement might trigger the robot.

It didn’t stop Kat’s tongue from wagging, though, rubbing Baz’s nose in it. “Walked right into it this time, didn’t you?” she whispered. “I mean, literally walked right in.” No doubt it would go in her book, volume one . . . if she survived long enough to add it.

Baz ignored her, kept his eyes fixed on the Aykari and not on any of the weapons trained on him. “Listen, Lark, or Crayt, or whoever you are. I’m sorry about that whole threatening-to-kill-you thing back there. Honestly, we didn’t come here to hurt you. We came here to find you. To give you something.”

Crayt’s eyes continued to blaze bright orange, the same ember glow as the soldiers they’d fought their way through on Halidrin. Leo couldn’t recall ever seeing an angry Aykari before that moment. Not in person. It was a look they saved only for their enemies.

“I know why you are here, Captain,” he said. “They sent you. Exile was not enough for them. It is a wonder they did not have me taken out before.” It seemed strange, hearing such spiteful words delivered in the alien’s monotone. But there was no doubt in Leo’s mind: Crayt saw the crew of the Icarus as a threat, one that he was prepared to neutralize.

Number Nine was certainly prepared. “Permission to disintegrate the intruders, sir?” the robot asked, sounding every bit like another robot Leo knew. He glanced at the six-legged automaton, looking like some monstrous, metallic, gun-toting spider. Was that a rocket launcher perched on the robot’s shoulder? Even Skits didn’t have one of those. For her part, Number One simply looked on, standing beside her master, watching and waiting with carefully calculated interest.