The right words. From the wrong person.

“I led you off-course at first, following a branch of the river.” Atlas’s voice broke through, rushing. “I could easily fake one space soldier’s death, and leave the rest of your knot to be found by the Mandate.”

Of course he did, Romy thought bitterly.

“But then, I . . . ,” he trailed off, almost sounding nervous. “I woke one day, and I just couldn’t do that anymore . . . so I led you to your friends,” he finished.

And disappeared.

“I meant to wait until Deimos died,” Atlas admitted. “One less body to fake.”

Silence occupied the cavern, aside from the steady typing from Houston.

“Well . . . that’s . . . shitty,” Deimos said.

“I was going to get rid of Rosemary’s part of the ship with a team, and then collect the rest of you, and bring you straight here. But then . . . I couldn’t do that either.”

He sounded angry about it, not apologetic. Some of his decisions seemed callous and ruthless, but with this insight into the weight he bore, it was no wonder he’d made them.

“Thank the stars you wanted to have sex with Romy,” Deimos muttered sarcastically.

Houston laughed and Atlas glared at him.

The doctor shrugged. “Everyone’s thinkin’ it.”

A slight red tinged Atlas’s cheeks. Her face was burning. Thrym’s face hovering directly in front of her wasn’t helping. She cleared her throat, sweat breaking out on her forehead.

“We told you to tell the others you were there on research,” Atlas said. “But what we didn’t tell you is that we told the Mandate all of this. An edited version. But they were aware of where you were the whole time.”

“They knew?” Phobos said, stupefied.

Atlas nodded. “I contacted them and reported that my people found you; that you were mentally impaired from the crash and my psychiatrists wished to observe you on Earth. The insane space soldiers cost the Mandate billions and billions of dollars every month. The Mandate agreed to let us study your transition.”

Elara whistled low. “That was the biggest bluff of The Retreat.”

A flicker of amusement crossed Atlas’s face. “Yes, it was. They gave us a month. We had a month to find your body replacements.”

Thrym’s eyes looked over her head, watching Houston. That was the “other stuff” he’d been working on.

Phobos’s voice was adamant. “The bodies never would have passed inspection.”

Houston rounded in front of Romy, checking the placement of a cable. “Not if we didn’t have people in the right places.”

The knot was quiet. Could it have worked? Had this organisation infiltrated that far into the Mandate and the Orbitos?

Romy spoke stiffly, not wanting to jostle anything. She was covered in cables and tubes. “You were going to make the switch the next morning. . . .”

Atlas crossed his arms. “I was.”

She blinked hard. “And I ruined everything.”