The story was that tall, dark, statuesque Madison was considered to be the most beautiful woman on Donovan. That once upon a time, a too-ardent suitor—a good friend of Supervisor Clemenceau’s—had been determined to possess her, that he’d ignored any warning to leave her alone. According to legend, Chaco had used the man’s own knife to kill him, and he and Madison had fled Port Authority before Clemenceau could have them arrested. As Wild Ones, they’d built their marvelous farm and mine, bore and raised a passel of children, some of whom they’d buried along the way, and flourished in the aftermath.

Chaco made a face as he took in the ruination of Tip’s leg. Looked like he wanted to puke. “We know what happened?”

“Some creature,” Madison told him wearily. “From the way Tip was talking, it wasn’t anything he recognized. Something in the cliffs. Part of it’s still in his leg. Probably rotting.”

Kylee fought back tears. If Tip died. . . . Fuck! Why was it always someone she loved?

Madison choked back a sob, added, “This is more than we can do. Not here.”

“I just got off the radio with Two Spot. He raised Dek. He’s flying out as soon as he can get the plane off the ground. He should be here by daybreak.”

“It’s storming out there, not to mention the middle of the night,” Madison said woodenly, her almond-dark eyes on the point of tears.

“This is Dek we’re talking about.” Chaco placed a comforting hand on his wife’s arm. “And you know how he feels about the kids.”

“So, what’s Dek going to do?” Kylee asked. “He bringing Dr. Turnienko with him?”

Chaco gave her a sober look, then glanced again at Tip’s leg. “Seeing this?” He shook his head. “I figured it was bad. Kylee, I know how you feel about PA, but Tip’s only chance is in the hospital. Just like it was yours once.”

“Sure. Right. In more ways than one, it was the end of my world.”

“But you walked again,” Madison reminded. “That was then. And we’re not Mundo, not to mention that it’s a different time and world.”

Rocket’s memory flashed in her mind. The sight of his bullet-shattered body lying on the dirt at Mundo. How he looked when Talbot and Talina laid his corpse in the grave. How it felt to crawl into that gaping hole and press her body against Rocket’s cold corpse.

Kylee bit her lip, thought she saw Tip’s swollen leg pulsate as if something inside it was writhing. “Those people wanted to kill Rocket. One of them finally did. I hate them all.”

Flute made a gurgling where he filled the door. His colors had turned to teal mixed with yellow and black: worry and fear.