The Orphan stood in a hallway near the back of the Berg, squeezed in a narrow spot between the bulbous back of the Grief Walker and the wall. He hoped he was isolated enough to inspect the bag of stuff he’d stolen from the commissary. Things weren’t as bad as he feared—the Grief Bearers, priestesses, and whoever else was on the ship had their hands full just trying to keep the Berg flying and functioning. It wasn’t like any of them had done something on this scale before. He also knew they’d taken it for granted that the prisoners had no choice but to wait in their chains until they arrived in Alaska.

My name is Minho, he thought. Yes. From this point on, my name is Minho and always will be. No more going back. For Roxy and Kit.

He pulled the awkward, bulky artillery suit from the bag, held it to his chest to size it up. It looked small but the things were supposed to fit tightly. The material was heavy with the two dozen inserts of explosives and guidance devices. What kind of person voluntarily wears something like this? he thought. Orphans do. Orphans and former Orphans named Minho.

It took a while, with lots of yanking the crystal-flecked material and wiggling his every body part. But finally he was set, fully wrapped in the most dangerous suit in the world. He reached into the bag and pulled out a smaller bag—this one full of tiny capsules of explosive, each of them rigged with a simple, mechanical timing device.

He took a breath. A deep one. Then another. Then another.

He thought of the note left in his quarters by Orange and Skinny, explaining the plan and that Roxy was safe. It was a good plan. They had at least a fifty-fifty chance of surviving it.

He reached for one of the explosive capsules and jammed it into a crevice at the bottom of the wall. He set the timer. It was on, it was really on.

He stood up and headed for the confinement cell.

Once again, they were all crammed into the tiny room like chopped wood in a stove. Just waiting for someone to throw in a match to ignite the whole bunch. They were all there as she had left them—Old Man Frypan, Ms. Cowan, Miyoko, Dominic, the two council members. They, of course, battered her with questions once she’d returned from the meeting with Minho, aka the Orphan.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” Ms. Cowan had asked, but not with much strength. Sadina’s mom was weak and tired, despite the food they had brought while Jackie was gone. Wilhelm and Alvarez stayed silent, probably ashamed that a young person had gone in their place.