I stop in the doorway. Beside me, Gilli is arranging the tins of fish and beans and tomatoes proudly on the shelf. She catches my eye and smiles.

‘You walked a long way,’ she says.

I frown at her, when a bang makes me jump. The General is knocking the cactus syrup tin against the table, drowning her grits with the last of the stuff.

‘One thing is for damn sure,’ Falco says, in the middle of a conversation. ‘The Doc needs to get off this moon. You too, Gabi.’

‘Agreed,’ the General says, shovelling grits into her mouth. ‘But if you think I am going to travel with her—’

‘She saved your life again, you little rat.’ Peg snatches the syrup tin away. ‘Or have you forgotten already?’

‘That was her choice! Can I have that back?’

‘No, you may not,’ Falco says, taking the syrup. ‘You owe her. And if your money’s getting you off this moon, it’s getting her off too.’

The General huffs, slumping back in her chair.

‘That’s not going to be so easy,’ Silas says. ‘Every passenger port’s going to have eyes all over it.’

‘What about you?’ the General says sweetly. ‘Couldn’t you take us off-moon?’

He shakes his head, rubbing at his untidy beard. ‘Charis isn’t built for long distance. She could manage a short hop, no further than say, Waypoint Ninety-Four.’

I must make some noise, because he looks up, and sees me in the shadows.

‘Ten,’ he says loudly. ‘Come and have coffee.’ He pours the dregs from the pot on the stove. ‘We were just deciding where to go.’

‘“We”?’ I ask, with a half-smile.

‘Seems I have been hijacked again.’ He passes me the mug, and his hand is warm against my chilled skin.

‘East,’ I tell them. ‘We should fly east.’

* * *

It’s obvious from the moment we take off it is not going to be an easy ride. Falco stalks around the Charis, poking at the wiring, inspecting every hiding place and cupboard.

‘Amazed it stays in the air,’ she mutters, but there’s a note of amusement in her voice, something like respect. Until we have been flying for an hour or so. Then, a torrent of curse words pours from the corridor, followed by the sound of clanging, and the hiss of the vapour shower turned to full.

‘Hey!’ Silas yells, straining away from the nav controls. ‘What the hell are you doing? We can’t waste water, we need it for the cooling systems.’ He gives me a pleading look. ‘Ten?’

I find Falco standing outside the bathroom pod, hosing it down with vapour.

‘Revolting, hophead slob,’ she mutters. With a laugh, I leave her to it.

Later, after changing the dressing on my chest and helping Pegeen take a weapons inventory, I go to look for the General. I find her at one of the portholes, staring at the hot, hissing desert that slides by below. She does not look up when I join her, but takes a deep breath.