The world swam in the large curved window in front of Maren. One second, she was looking at the ground, which had turned from its usual dirty red to a near-glowing pink, and the next, she was staring at the sky, which had tinges of colour in one direction and was pure white in the other. Saul had shut off the thrusters, but the momentum spun the ship twice, three times, four times—then it landed hard enough to jar Maren’s teeth.

The ship skidded across the surface of the planet, digging up clouds of dust and shaking its occupants as it caught on dunes and rocks before finally grinding to a halt. After a moment, Maren realised the ship had landed upright, then she finally let herself breathe and released her white-knuckle grip on the chair.

“You both okay?” Saul asked. He’d also blanched white, but his hand found Maren’s and squeezed.

“Yeah,” Gin squeaked, “but I’m not sure the ship is.”

The screen showing the rear of the ship was like something out of a monster movie. The back section was crumpled, dented, and torn in so many sections that there was no question about the hull remaining strong enough to withstand the flare. Even though Saul had airlocked all of the sections to protect them from the poisonous outside air, without the reinforced outer hull to shield them, the flare would melt through the inside of the ship like a flamethrower through butter.

The horizon’s glow was so bright, it was almost painful to look at. Rolls of blue-white gamma rushed over the surface of the planet behind them, burning up the writhing remains of the Cymic. She looked at Saul, who met her gaze, his eyes wide and helpless.

“Drive,” she said, realising what they needed to do to survive. “Go, quickly. Outrun it.”

Gin was hyperventilating as she watched the flare. “We can’t outrun it! It’s faster than this ship!”

“No, we can,” Maren said, suddenly aware of how hot it was in the cabin. Sweat was building over her body, and she was finding it hard to breathe. “We just need to get to the dark side of the planet. Go, Saul, quickly!”

But Saul had started directing power to the thrusters the first time Maren had told him to, and the ship was shuddering and groaning as it tried to move its damaged bulk. The rear thrusters had been nearly destroyed, but they still managed to spit fire as two out of the four units spluttered to life.

The ship jerked forward over on the dunes, but this time, Saul had more control over their course as he eased their speed up notch by notch. Maren glanced to her right and saw the hills and rocks of their planet blurring past the window; not far behind was the blue-tinted rolling wave that consumed everything in its path.

Being on the quiet side of the planet meant the gamma rays only skimmed their station, rather than hitting it front-on. That didn’t reduce their potency, but it was buying them precious seconds. The ship stopped shuddering as it rose from the surface, and Saul applied all of the ship’s energy to the thrusters. Maren was gasping; the air was so hot that every breath she took felt like as though it might suffocate her. Her throat and nose were dry, and the sweat her body produced evaporated before it could cool her. Maren could see the flare in the screen’s rear; the back of the ship was turning pink from the heat as the crackling blue hues spilled closer. Ahead, in the far distance, were faint hints of pinks and yellows. Everything else outside the ship was white.