I turned to stare at Ahiga. “I’ve been called a lot of things, but nice isn’t one of them.”

“Doesn’t change it from being true.” He gave my shoulder a squeeze. “Come on. Let’s get you some lunch. Then you need to finish listening to whatever training Carl has going, but I think your best bet is to move as slow as possible. Only take crystals you know are good to go. And if you don’t get a full load, who cares. You get through tomorrow, and all this will be over. No unnecessary risks.”

I nodded. “Okay. Sounds easy enough.” And that was what I was afraid of.

All those miners hadn’t died without a very good reason. I might not have to do the job for all five runs, but I had to live through at least one.

I could survive, but I had to be prepared. For everything. Even if that meant I was running through space being chased by SpaceTech’s warships. Because when we finally did run, that was very probably happening, too.

Chapter Thirty-Four

The morning took forever to come. I was haunted by a whole new type of nightmares—where I was blown up on Apollyon. Nerves had my stomach churning, and when it was finally time for me to get out of bed, breakfast didn’t sound the least bit appealing. I’d made peace with the horrible food—I would’ve starved otherwise—but today that wasn’t happening. So I decided to skip it and hoped that wasn’t a mistake.

I didn’t bother with a shower. There were too many people still in the bunks when I got up, and I just wanted to get the day over with. I dressed in a pair of leggings that Tabitha loaned me—there was no way I was wearing those shorts when I didn’t have to, even if Apollyon was hot—and one of my tank tops, and went straight down to the hangar that Carl had shown me yesterday.

It took me about ten minutes to walk there. Mechanics were already yelling at each other as they scurried around, even though it was early. The clang of metal against metal filled the bay and echoed as they went about their jobs to keep ships running. Spare parts and innards of various ships spilled off tables onto the floor.

The hangar wasn’t as big as the one that held the supply ships that were coming and going from the base at all hours. The ceiling was much lower, only about 25 meters, and just barely fit the ten tiny mining ships.

I spotted 42XLV, nicknamed Araña because of the spider painted on its side, in the center of the hangar. I liked the personalization. Whoever took care of the ship clearly took pride in their work. It was a bit shinier and cleaner than the rest in the hangar.