“You’ve been through hell? Good. Then you might just be tough enough to help me untangle this mess.”

Rosalyn held back a weary sigh. “And what does that look like?”

“For now? Getting rid of Piero. Disabling Rayan. Keeping Edison halfway human. Sound okay?” Misato had led them through the snaking tunnels of the ship, down a steeply curved ramp and to another closed, circular door on the lowest level of the ship. The collection rovers were in a bay nearby, with the only other entrance hatch besides the one she had initially entered through with Walters. Rosalyn brought up the schematics of the Brigantine on her AR and nodded. Starboard observation was just through the door and around a quick right-hand corner.

“Sounds like something, and that’s way better than nothing,” she agreed. “Which is what I got.”

“That’s the spirit,” Misato teased, but Rosalyn could hear the edge in her voice, the tremor of nervous energy. “You got anything new for me, JAX?”

The Servitor remained quiet, and no lights flickered in his head or body.

Misato shouldered up to the rounded door, hefting her makeshift weapon and nodding once. “Then we go for Piero, hit him hard. We have to stop him before he disables our comms.”

JAX sidled up to the door panel and disengaged the seal, allowing them into the corridor beyond. It was still and mostly dark, the only light emanating from the strands of turquoise Foxfire glittering along the ceiling, thousands of little eyes watching them, measuring them, twinkling with what felt like anticipation.

27

Piero still remembered exactly what Io looked like as the transport descended. Like a moldy golf ball. Like a burnt pizza with all the cheese scraped off. It didn’t look friendly or like home, and his skin itched with nervousness as they breached the atmosphere and the transport rattled hard enough to make his teeth clack.

His nose had been pressed against the cool observation window for an hour. Mamma sat next to him, legs primly crossed, her high heels on the bench next to them. Traveling was a luxury, she told him, so it was important to dress your best. Her long, tanned legs were drawing glances from other passengers. Some were there for short trips; others were destined to stay. A small blond girl Piero’s age had tried to show him a game with AR creatures you could chase and keep as pets, but Piero didn’t have the expensive tech headset it required. He wanted to cry, but shoved her instead.

“Don’t look so cross,” Mamma said as he glowered out the window.