He drugged us, I think. The acknowledgment of that is enough to free a part of my mind and I find some clarity.

“You drugged us,” I repeat.

“That’s quite an accusation you two have leveled at me. I can tell you that it’s not true.”

“We’re not going back there,” Malachai says. “We’re not … We’re …” And then the blood loss and pain cause him to pass out, his head hitting hard against the floor.

“A shame,” the doctor says, pulling a small USW pistol from the pocket of his jacket and aiming it at Malachai. “I didn’t want to do this, but if you won’t come back willingly, I can’t risk you destroying everything I’ve built. I guess you two were unlucky enough to be in the ten percent who die upon exiting Safe-Death.”

I stare at the barrel of the gun, too weak to run, too confused to think of a way out.

I hear the whipping of the air as the round comes toward me, and I flinch, waiting for the impact.

But the sound was not a USW round coming toward me; it was Apple-Moth zipping past.

“Bad man!” the drone screams as it flies directly into Dr. Price’s face, covering his eyes. I blink in confusion. How is this possible? I powered the drone down before entering Safe-Death!

No time to think. I grab Malachai by the legs and pull him behind a row of cryochambers. I turn in time to see Dr. Price grabbing Apple-Moth and flinging the small companion drone across the room. One of the tiny drone’s rotor blades is damaged and it can no longer fly. I see the words SELF-REPAIR MODE projected a few inches above its body in red lights.

I move quickly away from Malachai, trying to draw the doctor’s attention away from him. I dash across the aisle and dive behind the opposite row of cryochambers and I can feel the USW rounds vibrating the air around me as I hit the ground and roll away.

“I don’t understand,” I call out from my hiding place. “What happened to you? Didn’t you use to fight against Happy?”

“I did,” the echoing reply comes back, “but now there’s no point.”

“What does that mean?” I ask.

“I have calculated the odds of victory for the remaining humans. Do you want to know what your chances of success are?”

“It doesn’t matter,” I call as I begin to move slowly around the back of the chambers. “It won’t change anything.”

“There was a time,” Dr. Price says, his voice closer now, “when I was just like you. But the painful truth is, good doesn’t always win. I will sit out the war; I won’t let any more of my friends die.”