“No, I do. I like you. I would like you a lot if we weren’t here. And I trust you; you wanted to do the right thing for Tuva. I . . . trust or something you. For now. Anyway, how are we going to find them? We can both see Edison, I’ve got my AR, but we have no idea where the other two are.”

“You’re not the only one who can fit into an engineering bay duct,” Misato murmured. “JAX is monitoring the security feeds.”

“Crewmates Endrizzi, Aries and Yasin are currently located in starboard observation.”

“Christ, you’re good. You did all that just now?” Rosalyn was feeling increasingly confident in this temporary alliance. She was grateful, at least, that the one person available to her as an ally was intensely, scarily smart.

“You’re terrifying,” Rosalyn added with a shiver.

“Ha. Just resourceful. I went to work on the cameras and JAX as soon as Piero went dark. Rayan came to see me and he was scattered . . . worsening. Something was different, and I prefer to be prepared,” Misato explained. She began moving down the corridor again, keeping her makeshift weapon at the ready, and Rosalyn copied her.

“Why starboard observation?” she asked in a whisper. “What’s there?”

In the glow of Misato’s turquoise eyes, Rosalyn saw the old woman’s mouth harden into a grim line.

“The brig.”

“Crew member Iwasa?” JAX interjected. “Pardon the interruption, but it seems pertinent: Crewmate Endrizzi is attempting to access the communications hub directly.”

“Directly?” The engineer drew up short and Rosalyn stumbled past her. “Define ‘directly,’ JAX.”

“With his fists,” the Servitor intoned matter-of-factly.

“Oh no. Oh, that’s not good,” Misato breathed. “Show me the feed.”

JAX lit up, his chassis becoming a milky white that then filled with a camera stream from starboard observation. The two women crowded around him, leaning in for a better look. The image was murky and difficult to make out, and there was no sound, but toward the back left corner of the gently curved room, next to a large observation window, was Edison, locked behind what looked like the same tough, clear shielding from cold storage. He shouted something unintelligible, and Rosalyn heard the echo of it in real time, muted by the doors and corridors between them.

Piero had ripped a smooth, silver panel from a waist-high bank of storage bins near the brig. His fists came away with spools and spools of green cording.

“God, what are they doing to him? And what are they doing to the ship?” Rosalyn whispered.

Misato squinted and then shook her head. “JAX, where is Rayan? I don’t see him there. Find him on the cameras.”