Gin nodded, kicked off the billiard table, and fetched some throw blankets from the cupboard. Then she retreated to one of the lounges in a shadowy corner of the room.

Maren paced through the recreation room a few times to wake herself up before returning to Saul and the screens. There wasn’t anything to see; Holly and Mark continued to camp in the supplies room, carefully hidden from sight, and Suriya hadn’t ventured out of the office. Maren couldn’t help wondering what their commander was doing—sleeping, maybe, like Gin, or awake, sitting in the wicker chair nestled in the corner, watching the door, that vicious kitchen knife swinging like a pendulum in her bony hand.

The red screen in the corner of the room counted down to the next flare: two hours, then one hour forty-five, then one hour thirty. Maren felt as though it were echoing the countdown on her life. She had four days, with luck, before thirst forced her into the supplies room or compelled her to face Saul’s gun. Four days isn’t long. There’s so much I wanted to do. So many things I’d planned for.

You got one of them, at least, she reminded herself, glancing at Saul’s sleeping face. You get to play defence technician for a handful of hours. Tick that one off the bucket list.

Motion on the screens caught her eye, and Maren leaned forward. Suriya was hurrying down the hallway, apparently not trying to be quiet anymore. Maren glanced at the screen monitoring the storage room entrance, expecting Mark or Holly to come out, but they didn’t seem to have heard.

“What’s she doing?” Maren hissed, watching as Suriya went into the communications room. The older woman pulled the small chip off the chain she’d retied around her neck and fitted it into the communications panel. Maren felt a rush of horror as she realised what was about to happen.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

“Gin?” Maren reached behind herself to shake Saul. “Gin, this is bad!”

“I’m awake,” Saul muttered when Maren didn’t stop shaking him. “And yes, I’ve been watching.”

“Is there anything we can do?” Maren wasn’t able to keep the panic out of her voice. The metallic taste of fear had returned to her mouth, making her feel queasy.

Saul’s silence was an answer in itself.

“What?” Gin asked, kneeling on the cushion pile next to Maren. “What’s happened?”

Maren pointed at the screen, where Suriya was typing on the panel. “She’s used her chip. She’s going to override the lockdown, I’ll bet. She’ll open the doors and let the gamma rays fry the Cymics.”

“Well… that’s good, isn’t it?” Gin asked, looking between Maren and Saul. “This is an emergency lockdown room. It’s safe against the rays, even if they contaminate the rest of the station. The Cymics will die, and we’ll be safe.”

“Yeah,” Maren said, right as Suriya turned away from the panel and looked directly at the camera. A sickening smile stretched over the woman’s face. “That would work great if Suriya hadn’t gone—what’s a polite way to put this? Nuts. Bonkers. Psycho. She’s going to kill us all.”