Holly watched Owen and Jamie play in the dirt of Biome 1. They chased each other through the trampled remains of a row of cucumber plants. The irrigation poles began showering them with water, prompting cries and shouts of laughter.

She smiled, and for the first time in a week she felt a true sense of happiness flood over her. The resilience of the children in the wake of losing everything and everyone around them amazed her.

For the majority of her career, she had worked with individuals suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder, and while both children seemed to exhibit some traits of PTSD, they were also still behaving like, well, children.

“I’m faster than you!” Jamie shouted, running past Owen and shoving him playfully.

“Nuh-uh!”

The irrigation poles clicked off moments later and the children frowned simultaneously before dragging their dirty feet through the mud. Emanuel had set them to run as little as possible so they didn’t waste any water.

“All right, kids, time for lunch,” Holly shouted, motioning them toward the metal platform.

“There you are,” said a voice from behind her. She turned to see Sophie and Emanuel jogging across the platform.

“What are you guys doing out here?” Sophie said, lowering her voice so the children wouldn’t hear.

“Look at that!” Emanuel blurted. “They’re destroying the crops. We’re going to need every plant we can grow,” he said pointing at the leveled row of cucumbers.

“We’ll manage, Emanuel. Calm down,” Sophie said. She turned back to Holly to reassure her. “It’s okay, and that isn’t what I wanted to talk to you about, anyway.”

“Oh?” Holly replied. They left Emanuel and the kids and walked shoulder to shoulder around the crops.

“Did you know about the implants?” Sophie said quietly.

Holly stopped and squinted. “What implants?”

Sophie studied her face for a second. It was all the time she needed to determine Holly had no idea what she was talking about.

“Come on, I’ll tell you on the way back to the mess hall.”

Timothy sat alone at one of the metal tables in the cafeteria, attempting to drink through a long straw. “Gah damn it,” he mumbled, tossing the cup onto the table. He heard footsteps and managed to wheel himself around to see the entire crew approaching. To the right were Sophie and Emanuel, and to the left was the man who had broken his jaw.

Adrenaline shot through him. He clenched his tender jaw and glared at Overton.

Asshole.

“Mr. Roberts, how are you feeling today?” Overton bellowed as he made his way across the mess hall.

Timothy scowled silently.

“Glad to see you’re feeling better,” Overton said, ignoring the look of almost comical hatred on Timothy’s swollen face. “You’re just in time for a little discussion about the future of the Biosphere. Take a seat—oh wait, you’ve already got one.”