Five has hesitated with Eight in front of him, some of the anger directed at Nine going out of him. “Get out of the way, Eight. My offer to you still stands, but only if you let me finish this loudmouth moron off.”

“Let him take a shot, dude!” Nine shouts from the ground.

“Shut up,” Eight snaps over his shoulder. He holds his hands up to Five. “You’re not thinking straight, Five. They’ve done something to you. In your heart, you know this isn’t right.”

Five scoffs. “You want to talk about right? What’s right about sending a bunch of children to a strange planet so they can fight a war they don’t even understand? What’s right about giving those children numbers instead of names? It’s sick.”

“So is invading another planet,” counters Eight. “Wiping out an entire people.”

“No! You understand so little,” Five replies, laughing. “The Great Expansion had to happen.”

“Genocide had to happen? That’s insane.”

Six stirs in my lap. She’s not awake yet, but it seems like the healing has worked. I set her down gently and stand up, creeping closer to the others. Five doesn’t notice me; he’s ranting now, sounding almost frantic.

“You fight because your Cêpans told you that’s what your Elders want! Have you ever questioned why? Or who your Elders really are? No, of course not! You just take orders from dead old men and never even question them! And I’m insane?”

“Yeah,” growls Nine. “Are you even listening to yourself, bro?”

“You’re confused. You’ve been their prisoner for years without even realizing it. Just calm down and we can discuss this,” says Eight. “We shouldn’t be fighting.”

But Five isn’t listening to Eight anymore. I thought he might have a chance of getting through to Five, but that last comment by Nine was enough to set him off again. Five drops his shoulder and attempts to barrel right through Eight.

I grab Five’s left hand with my telekinesis, focusing on prying open his fingers so he’ll drop those balls. He jerks away from Eight, surprised, struggling against me.

“His left hand!” I yell. “Help me get it open!”

I can tell by the looks on their faces that Eight and Nine have gotten the idea. Five screams in pain and frustration. I almost feel bad for a moment; we’re just ganging up on him again. This must be what he’s felt like since he joined us—an outsider. He’s lost and confused and angry. But we can worry about mending fences and fixing his screwed-up worldview later. Right now, he needs to be stopped.

“Please don’t fight us,” I cry. “You’re just making it worse.”