At the other table, two of the men rose, carrying their trays to the recycler. The man and woman who stayed glanced over at Alex and Bobbie, and then pretended they hadn’t. Alex took a bite of his sandwich. The greasy cheese and fake butter were like being young again. Or else like remembering how long it had been since he was young.

“Any word on the assholes who shot at us?”

“They’re still fighting with the escort ships. Withdrawing, but not retreating. The escort isn’t looking to engage as long as they can keep the bastards from getting close to us.”

“Yeah, all right.”

“Seem weird to you too?”

“Little bit,” Alex said. “Seems like a pretty piss-poor ambush if you don’t actually ambush anyone.”

“It’s because of us,” Bobbie said. “You and me. We were in the right place at the right time. We forced the bad guys to make their play too soon. If we hadn’t, it wouldn’t be just the secretary-general that died. Honestly, I think that’s why we’re getting treated this well. Smith knows it could have gone a lot worse without us.”

“You’re probably right. It’s just…”

“You’re waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

“Yeah.”

“Me too. We’re jumpy. Why wouldn’t we be? Someone just broke pretty much all of human civilization overnight.”

The words hit Alex like a blow. He put down his sandwich. “They did, didn’t they? I don’t know who we are now. I don’t know what this does.”

“Me neither. Or anyone else. But we’ll figure it out. And whoever did this, we’ll find them. We’re not going to let them win.”

“No matter what game they’re playing.”

“No matter what,” Bobbie agreed.

Billions were dying right now, and no way to save them. Earth was broken, and even if it survived, it would never go back to what it had been. Mars was a ghost town, the terraforming project at its heart falling to pieces. The aliens that sent the protomolecule hadn’t needed to destroy humanity. They’d given humans the opportunity to destroy themselves, and as a species, they’d leaped on it. Alex pushed away an angry tear, and Bobbie pretended she hadn’t seen it.

“Yeah,” he said. “Still. I’m going to feel a lot better when the relief ships get here.”

“Amen,” Bobbie said. “Still, I wish it was more than just six ships coming. Well, seven. Six and a half.”

“Six and a half?”

“Relief ships picked up a commercial hauler somewhere. Nonmilitary. It’s called the Chetzemoka?”

Chapter Twenty-eight: Holden

“Cover for some kind of theft,’ ” Holden said again. “I mean what the hell was that?”