When they were past, Indigo stepped so quietly he might have been a breeze drifting over the floor. We were almost at the door when I glanced to my right.

There was an open area on the other side of the room, visible between the bookshelf-like servers. Perhaps there had once been a seating area there, couches, a table—perhaps this room had been a library, of some sort, with all the books made electronic. There was nothing there now except empty space, meticulously tidied of debris by the ship’s relentless self-repair. Some of the ship’s décor had survived its decay: massive metal statues of men and women were set into alcoves in the wall, looming like watchers. A swarm of Dreamer-bots hummed through the clearing, targeting a fire at the feet of one of the statues, the flashing light of it rendering the figure’s mask oddly animate.

And in the midst of all of this, on her knees with one arm swollen and cradled to her chest, was Lieutenant Tamara Gupta.

CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT:

Enemy of the Enemy

“Sean,” Indigo said, still pronouncing my name the Kystrene way. His hand under my arm pulled, but I dug in my heels. Lantern-Eyes was surrounded by enemies. None of them had noticed her yet, but how long before they did? She didn’t seem to see them. Her face was turned my way, barely visible in the uneven light. I tugged my arm out of Indigo’s grip, pulled out my flashlight, and flickered it onto her face.

Indigo hissed out his breath next to me, but this room was full of flashing light and the Dreamer-bots didn’t pay much attention. As soon as the light fell on Lantern-Eyes’ face, I saw why she wasn’t moving.

Her face was crawling with Dreamer-bots.

She must have had her eyes screwed shut, but they were swarming over her skin, tiny, so densely packed it looked like her face had become a swarming mask. Her arm broken and blinded, she was trapped, helpless.

For all her knowledge of the ship, for all her careful, precise planning, Tamara Gupta was screwed if something changed in those plans. And she had no back-up to support her in the event of a change, because all her back-up had died on this ship a year ago. Lieutenant Gupta’s lack of back-up was going to get her killed, right in front of me, just like it likely would get me and Indigo killed eventually, each separately.

Between the server walls, I watched Lantern-Eyes bend down, unbroken arm extended, sweeping her palm over the floor. Behind her and a little to the right, far outside the reach of her arm, I saw her bloodied club lying in the detritus; beside that, her battered flashlight. She was looking for her light or her weapon: blinded, maimed, and alone, and she was still moving forward with iron determination.

“Sean, we have to leave,” Indigo said in my ear.

“What? No,” I hissed. I flicked off my light. “We’ve got to get her out of there.”