The General shoots her a withering look. ‘I have an anonymous account, out of reach of the Accord. How much would you charge, since you know so much about this place?’

‘Me?’ Falco smirks. ‘More than you could afford.’

‘I’m not in the mood to barter with criminals. Name your price.’

Falco does. A figure so absurdly high it’s laughable. But the General only grunts.

‘For that amount of money, I’d expect a guarantee of safe passage. And your word that you won’t sell me out to the Accord.’

‘I’ll guarantee passage, and if I receive a better offer for your head, I’ll do the courtesy of letting you know.’

The General stares up at Falco, her lined face stony. Abruptly, she turns to me. ‘You, traitor. Do you trust her?’

She has nothing, I realise. Without the Accord she is totally alone, and she knows it. ‘Slightly more than anyone else on this moon.’

Falco smiles. ‘Then you’re going soft.’

The General nods briskly. ‘Very well. It’s a deal. You’ll take me to this Pit.’

‘And what about the Doc?’ Falco demands. ‘She risked her neck to save yours.’

‘Her conscience has repaid her, no doubt. I’ll send some money to settle our debt when I’m safely off-world.’ The General raises an eyebrow at me. ‘Agreed, traitor?’

Looking at her, something squirms in my chest, like a grub held to a flame. There would always be a debt.

‘No,’ I say softly.

They want me to go with her, I’m certain of it.

‘Here’s the deal,’ Falco interrupts. ‘I take both of you to the Pit. You pay half upfront, half there, and you guarantee to give the Doc whatever she’s owed. If you cheat me, my people will find you, and the fact you’re a kid won’t mean shit to them.’ She bends down. ‘Agreed, sweetie?’

The General’s smile is like steel. ‘Agreed.’

* * *

‘Taking a holiday, Mala?’

The wagon lurches to a halt. I lie as still as I can, trying to breathe evenly through the mask. Despite Falco’s promises, the stench is almost worse than the waste tank. It makes my eyes flood and my throat close. For the second time in less than a day I fight down nausea.

The General lies next to me, tense with rage. She’s furious, has been ever since Falco insisted she cut her hair, saying it marked her as Accord a mile-off.

They argued about it and, of course, Falco won. The General snatched the scissors from Pegeen and spitefully hacked at the thick, black bob until it stuck out in an uneven crop. Coupled with the baggy, colourful clothes it makes her look all the younger – like the child she truly is. Her anger hadn’t abated when she saw Falco’s foolproof method for sneaking us out of Landfall past the sentries.