My words were a lie. I had nothing but doubts, and no clear view of the hours and days to come. Everything had changed. None of the plans we had so eagerly shaped on the ground applied anymore. If the explosion wasn’t enough, if the unknown identity of the virus wasn’t enough, I didn’t know how to make Adam understand. I looked around helplessly. Malachi’s eyes were wide and frightened, and Adam never listened to him anyway. Panya would not look at me. Dag was, as ever, placid and unreadable. Henke was still grinning at the hostages. Nobody would speak to support me and counter Adam. Even aboard House of Wisdom, there was nothing they feared more than Adam’s anger.

“Tell me what you are going to do, Zahra,” Adam said.

There was only one answer I could give. “We’ll make the ship safe. We’ll be ready by the time Homestead gets here.”

“Everybody understands,” Adam said. His voice softened fractionally, and I felt sickly and cold. “Everybody is ready for hard work. But we cannot begin that work if you fail.”

“I won’t. We won’t.”

It was as though he didn’t hear me. “The consequences will be terrible if you fail. For all of us. So terrible. We must carry this burden. We cannot go back.”

My throat was tight and aching. “I know. Are the—”

Are the twins okay? The question was there, on the tip of my tongue, but I dared not ask. It was better to keep Anwar and Nadra far from Adam’s mind when he was angry with me. Some days he praised me for caring for them so deeply; other times he raged because it was forbidden to love anybody, even children, more than we loved him.

“Is the family well?” I asked.

“We have encountered no complications,” Adam said. “There is the matter of the vessel Malachi believes he saw. We must keep them at bay.”

“I know,” I said. “I have four hostages.”

“The Bhattacharya boy is among them?”

“Yes. He is. We can use him—”

“We will use him to warn SPEC to keep their distance.”

I pressed my lips together. It was easier to let Adam claim ideas for his own when he was suggesting what I had planned to do anyway.

He went on, “I will assure Councilor Bhattacharya that if they do not stay away, we shall consider her nephew’s life forfeit. That will keep them occupied for a while.”

There was a quiet sound over the radio, a gasp of fear. From the corner of my eye I saw Henke raise his weapon. I had forgotten the hostages were listening. I should never have let them listen. They had been so quiet I had fallen into the rhythm of a private conversation. It was the mistake of an amateur, a child. I felt sick with shame.