I ignore Pander and step out of the cryochamber. “It’s over, Dr. Price.”

He clenches his jaw, and tears form in his eyes. “But I’ll be alone.”

“You’re already alone,” I reply.

The old doctor lies on the floor and begins to cry. For a moment I feel sad for him.

“I don’t accept,” he mutters.

“What did you say?” Molly asks.

“I said, I do not accept.”

The doctor’s hand moves quickly; he grabs the USW pistol from the floor and begins firing at the chambers that surround us. The glass shatters and the emaciated corpses within slump forward.

He manages to hit three, including Shion’s chamber, by the time Molly pulls the trigger.

The gun falls from the doctor’s hand, and before he dies, his eyes meet Dr. Ortega’s. I watch an odd expression flit across his face—shock or recognition?—and then he falls back, dead.

I glance at Dr. Ortega as she tries to hide the look of fear on her face.

“Yo, what the fuck is going on?” Igby asks, breaking the silence.

I push aside my doubts about Dr. Ortega—for now. “Molly, can we get them out of Purgatory and back into their bodies?” I ask, pointing to the collapsed corpses half inside the destroyed chambers.

But Molly doesn’t have time to answer before the red light above the arcade’s door comes on, followed by the old tablet computer with the words MOSQUITOES APPROACHING.

“Apple-Moth,” I call, looking toward the downed drone, the words SELF-REPAIR MODE still flashing over its body. “No,” I whisper, knowing that the only way to hide from the approaching Mosquitoes is back inside Purgatory. But if we all go in, we might not come out.

Shion is completely free of her tank and lies on the floor. Dr. Ortega is kneeling next to her, eyes fixed on Shion’s stone-white face—Kina’s at her side. Igby’s frozen by the door, head bowed, like the shock has nailed him to the spot, and Pander moves around the arcade, looking for … a way out? A cache of weapons to fight off the impending army of Alts? I don’t know.

“The Mosquitoes are coming,” Molly says. “We have to get back to Purgatory.”

“We can’t,” I tell her. “We don’t know how to stop the drug. We might never get out.”

“We’ve got three minutes, maybe less,” says Molly.

I try to think faster, my eyes skimming over the tubes and wires snaking across the room and into a huge central console. “Igby,” I call. He lifts his bowed head to look at me. “If Dr. Price was drugging everyone in Purgatory, the drug must be somewhere in here, right? Feeding out from the computer thing?” I point at the console.