The sound of rubber wheels squeaking was the only response Overton got as Timothy wheeled himself away from the awful man’s presence.

The sergeant was still chuckling to himself as the two doctors entered the room. “Dr. Rodriguez, now that you and Dr. Winston have had a chance to settle down, maybe you wanna tell me what you’re not telling me about that ship.” Overton took a seat and retrieved his combat knife, twirling it on his fingers.

Emanuel paced over to the table and clasped his hands behind his back. He wrinkled his nose and took a deep breath. “Yes, I believe I probably should,” he said, glancing at Sophie for approval.

She nodded, and he continued. “Secundo Casu is the most sophisticated ship ever built. Its engines were designed to run off several different fuels, allowing it to travel significant distances without having to refuel. Between jet fuel, solar power, and a new classified nuclear reactor, this ship has the ability to make it to Mars in six months. I don’t know much more than that—Sophie could explain it in much more detail—but that isn’t what you want to hear anyways. What you want to hear is why I believe this ship is no longer a prototype and is instead prepped and ready for space flight.”

Overton stopped twirling his knife and set it on the table. “Go on.”

“As I was saying, Sophie had a very specific dream about this ship on Mars, seeing it in action. And after hearing about the implant, I believe she did so for a reason. I believe it means something.” Emanuel unclasped his hands and stepped forward, placing them palm-down on the table. Jamie and Owen sat on either side of Holly, and as he caught Owen’s eye, the little boy smiled.

The action took Emanuel off guard. He was about to tell the team one of his craziest theories yet, and this child had absolutely no idea what was going on. For a second he wished he was in Owen’s place, almost completely oblivious to the threats around him. But he was a scientist. He cleared his throat and continued.

“I believe her dreams mean Secundo Casu is ready for space flight, and could still be our ticket off this planet. I believe Dr. Hoffman was trying to tell us to go there so we could escape and the human species would survive.”

The room erupted into commotion. Timothy began mumbling beneath his breath, and Overton’s curses mixed with Bouma’s. Emanuel took a step back, amazed at their reaction. To him it didn’t sound all that unrealistic, but he was a biologist, not a Marine or a programmer.

“Who would pilot the ship?” Bouma asked.

“There are only eight of us—not exactly enough to repopulate Mars,” Overton added.