The eight teens and Romy crammed back into the car for the return journey. Romy’s stomach twisted nervously as she tried to memorise the path they took. She’d avoided the soldier for one day, but what was to prevent him from coming back at any time? And what if her absence had been noticed? Romy couldn’t help but feel Atlas might have something to say about her disappearing with a bunch of teenagers—even if it was the most fun she’d had on Earth yet.

Romy hadn’t really considered the consequences before going.

“C-can you tell us about the Critamal?” Eddie asked shyly.

The low muttering of the young group halted at his question. None of them could move, but Romy had a feeling that if the others could, they’d be turning to stare.

“Sure,” Romy said. “What do you want to know?”

Eddie’s eyes went wide in excitement. She could see his expression in the cracked mirror in the middle of the windscreen.

“It must be amazing, living up there. In space,” he sighed, stutter disappearing.

Wriggling in place, she tried to mask her amusement. “I guess,” she replied. “It’s all I’ve ever known, just like your homes here, I imagine. It’s the same with the Critamal. They’ve always been a part of my life—I don’t really find the Critamal all that interesting, to be honest. Though battle against them can be an exhilarating change to daily life, and the way their brains stay intact after their body explodes gives me shivers. They’re just something to kill. Something to survive. Something not to get caught by. They want Earth, and we want to stop them. If global warming had destroyed Earth, it could have just as easily been us trying to take their home.”

Nancy hummed. “I never thought of the poachers that way.”

A muffled response came from the opposite seat. “That’s so badass.”

Romy flushed. She didn’t want it to sound like she was bragging. “To my knot, being on the orbitos, it’s the same as . . . feeding the chickens. You get used to it, and it’s just a job you do because you have to.” Romy wasn’t entirely successful at keeping the bitterness from her voice.

“The grass is always greener?” Eddie asked.

“I don’t know.” Romy frowned. “Is it?”

The car rocked with the sound of laughter from the eight teens while Romy went bright red.

Nancy snorted into Romy’s side. “It means, you always think something far away is more exciting than your life.”

Romy wondered if she’d find feeding the chickens more exciting. Probably, she thought.

“Yes, I suppose that’s true.”

Nancy was shaking her head. “That’s messed up.”