Bhattacharya had taken the seat by the window. Nassar was on the aisle. I didn’t like that. It made Bhattacharya harder to reach.

“You’ve got a lot of crew on this flight,” M’Baga said.

“Yes,” I said shortly. I didn’t want to talk to him, but I could not avoid it. Panya was still cajoling the flirting young men into tightening their harnesses. “It’s a full crew. We want to keep everybody safe.”

“Including two with the engines,” M’Baga said.

I silently cursed Nico and Bao for sticking their heads out to watch the passengers come aboard. They were supposed to have stayed hidden.

“They’re a teacher and apprentice from the engineering corps. They’re only here for training and observation. There’s no work being done,” I said, hoping our prepared explanation would not make him suspicious. “There’s nothing to worry about.”

“Oh, I trust it will be a smooth ride,” M’Baga said.

“We’ll do our best,” I said, and I smiled, and I wondered if I would have to kill him before the day was over.

•   •   •

After we had served lunch, about five hours into our journey, I gestured for Dag to come to the front while I went to the back of the passenger cabin. I moved carefully down the short aisle, holding on to the handles on the backs of the seats and hoping nobody noticed how uneasy I was in zero gravity. I wasn’t entirely sure how much more time we had, as Boudicca had kept updates to a minimum to avoid drawing attention to our route, but I didn’t want to be in the front, far from our target, when the time came.

The shuttle windows to my right showed the Earth, too small and too bright. To my left there was only darkness and stars. Neither view soothed my ratcheting nerves. I took my place at the back and hooked my feet into the straps behind the last row of seats. Beside me, Henke was massive, pale, and grim with menace. I did not tell him to smile now.

I was relieved to be away from Professor M’Baga’s searching gaze and pointed questions. Dag was a better choice for the professor’s attentions. He had spent years aboard various ships, working his way up from cargo loader to pilot, before he was caught diverting goods to a smuggler and was given a choice: imprisonment or revocation of his Councils citizenship. He had chosen the freedom of the desert. The Flight Service tattoos on his hands were genuine, and he was happy to chat amiably with the professor about flying transport ships to build Halley Station, piloting a gravity slingshot around Venus on his second-ever command, stories we had all heard a dozen times before. There had never been any doubt that Dag yearned to get back into space. That was one reason Adam trusted him so much.