Rosalyn narrowed her eyes, hugging her knees. “Agreeable can turn into horrifically grumpy, just you wait. And anyway I’m not much of a partner in this endeavor if I’m asleep on my feet.” Her eyes closed slowly, as if completely beyond her control. “I can’t sleep now. Not with Piero going completely AWOL like that. It creeps me out. You I sort of trust. Him? Nope.”

Edison didn’t know if he ought to tell her, but if this partnership was going to work, then honesty would be key. Frowning, he slid to the floor completely, sitting across from her with his hands resting on his ankles. “Rayan is missing, too.”

“What?”

“I know. Well, shit, no, I don’t know. I don’t know what it means, Rosalyn.” The hairs on his arms stood up and he patted them down nervously. “It just happened. He was in the lab, I could sense him there, now he’s . . . just gone. It’s like Foxfire disappeared him. Swallowed him.”

Her eyes were wide open now. “This is going to sound really cruel, but do you think . . . do you think it means they died or something? What if this stuff doesn’t want to control you but kill you?”

“That should scare me but it doesn’t.” Edison leaned his head against the barrier and sighed. He felt weary, too, though his body tended to resist sleep. The dreams he had lately were terrifying, nothing like the nightmares he experienced in the past. The worst part was that he knew why the dreams frightened him so much—they weren’t his dreams at all, but the thing inside him going into fitful rest, showing him a glimpse of its unconscious thoughts.

He shuddered just remembering it. “This thing is too virulent. It wants to spread. Killing my whole crew wouldn’t accomplish that.”

“I suppose,” Rosalyn granted him. She looked more alert, slightly panicked, her hazel eyes scanning the hall behind him. “But the spores are in the air. It just takes exposure, right? If those Merchantia ships turn up, the situation kind of takes care of itself.”

“No. They’ll be suited up like you are. You’re lucky Rayan met you at the cockpit. If it was Piero, he would’ve gone straight for your visor.”

Now it was her turn to shiver. “What an image.”

“Sorry.”

“No, it’s fine, you’re right.” Rosalyn shrugged, trying to conceal another long, long yawn. She stretched like a cat, and it was kind of cute, he thought. No. Not helpful. It was bad enough that she was prettyish, not his type, but maybe his type was changing. Or maybe the Foxfire is changing you.

“What?” he heard her say, and he coughed.

“What what?”

She rolled her eyes at him, which was becoming routine. “Your eyes went all soft focus. Don’t tell me we’re both falling asleep. Kiss your sweet plan goodbye.”