Gently, I touch a very old real photograph. It shows a sandy beach, where people with brightly coloured bathing costumes sit smiling on striped towels. Then, as if the image comes to life, an unexpected sound catches my attention: laughter.

Pulling boots onto my bare feet, I head for the tiny galley kitchen. Silas is there, the pipe hanging from his lips as he shovels at something on a grease-thick stove. The General leans in the doorway, listening.

‘—and he told me, “son, I ain’t never seen a jackrabbit.”’

The General snorts into the mug she’s drinking from. They both turn as I enter.

‘Morning,’ Silas greets. ‘Hungry?’

‘About time you dragged yourself up,’ the General says. She looks much improved; the grey pallor is gone from her face, though a trace of weariness remains in the wrinkles about her eyes. She nods to the stove. ‘You might be crazy, but you picked the right ship to hijack. One with coffee and eggs.’

‘Vulture eggs,’ Silas says apologetically, sprinkling some very shrivelled green chillies into the pan. ‘Still, they’re not bad. Better than protein.’ He swings around to pour from a battered pot. ‘Here, saved you some.’

I take the cup. It is indeed coffee – oily and bitter, but real.

‘Thank you.’

‘All part of the service. For what you’re paying me, I should be laying on a buffet.’

I glance at the General and she shrugs. So, they have evidently worked out the details of this arrangement. How much money does she have, stashed away?

The horrors of the Pit remain on my mind, but – as always – my body is a traitor. A mug of coffee and a full belly make the memories easier to push aside.

‘We’ll reach At Least by noon,’ Silas says, scraping oil from his plate. ‘We can refuel there, then head onwards to Depot Twelve, the mining port I was talking about.’

‘At Least?’ The General raises an eyebrow.

‘It’s the only trade post in this sector for miles, nearest civilisation to the Edge. Place is hit so often by Seekers and bandits, only thing people can say is “at least it’s still there”.’

‘Seekers again,’ the General complains. ‘They’re a menace. They should be dealt with.’

Silas laughs at her. ‘I’d like to see you try.’

‘If I’d had a gun when they attacked us, there would be a few less of them.’

‘You actually saw them?’ Silas asks, alarmed. ‘How close did they get?’

‘We managed to get away before they could land,’ I interrupt, before the General can say anything. ‘We were very lucky.’

Silas is frowning, and no wonder. I’ve never heard of anyone facing the Seekers like we did and walking away. I can tell he is trying to figure us out, whether to believe a word we say.

‘Will there be many other ships in At Least?’ I ask quickly.