Indigo shook his head.

Time to face the music. It was pretty obvious that Quint, Benny, and I had made a break for it, but maybe I could spin it another way before Number One executed me— or worse, executed them. “Really good luck you came when you did,” I said to Indigo. “We were pretty lost out here in the dark.”

Indigo sighed. He got one hand under my elbow and, using that as leverage, propelled me forward.

“Couldn’t see anything,” I said to Indigo as he half-dragged me down the hall towards Number One. “If you hadn’t showed up those things might have… I don’t know, eaten us. Do you think they eat human flesh?” I pressed on before Indigo could reply; it came to me that I didn’t actually want to know whether those things were likely to eat us. “We couldn’t tell up from down out here. Might’ve wandered off trying to escape those things, gotten lost somewhere. And you guys were moving too, chasing those things down the hall. I guess we—”

“May I give you some advice,” said Indigo.

“Go ahead,” I said, intrigued.

“Think in your head,” said Indigo, “not with your mouth.”

Was that his way of telling me to shut up? I’d saved his life and lost my chance to escape, and he told me to shut up?

I glanced back at Benny and Quint, like a reflex. But when I looked back I saw Benny with his hand on his brace.

Behind me, Benny and Quint sat side-by-side. Ahead of me, the Ministers gathered in a glowing crowd. Beside me, the hull hissed and sighed, so thin it might be pierced even by a single small, low-caliber bullet. And between the humans and the Ministers, Benny and me, jutted one of the decompression ledges in the wall, a panel that would separate us in the event of a sudden decompression.

The pieces fell together.

I pulled myself out of Indigo’s grip. “Don’t!” I shouted, one hand outstretched.

Benny met my eyes, a flinty look on his face, raised his braced hand and fired.

The world peeled apart.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN:

The Indigo Minister and I

I unfolded like a flower, the air in my lungs exploding out. My internal organs pressed against my skin, trying to spread like oil on water. The side of me facing the exploding sun crisped with heat but my other side was the sort of cold that was dry, ice so frozen your skin clung to it rather than melting. I was an origami bird coming undone, blood through the seams, scorching and charring to ash—

Something slammed into my chest and I slammed into a floor.

Suddenly I could gasp, and there was air to be drawn in. Tears streaked down my cheeks as my dried eyes overcompensated, and I stared up at the ceiling as black spots flashed in my vision.

Indigo crouched over me, a blue cast to his skin like a corpse. He had one hand gripping the back of my neck, my collar pulled painfully tight against my throat. The other hand had drawn his knife, and he held the point of it over my heart.