Thrym gave a tight nod. “Then we need to decide if we stay or go,” he said.

Romy exchanged a look with Phobos.

“We have to stay. They have Deimos.” He answered her unspoken question.

“We’re too vulnerable at the moment,” Romy said. “We’d need equipment, and, well, we need to know more about surviving here, too.”

Elara pursed her lips. “We didn’t pass any other camps on the way. Maybe we don’t have to worry about being caught.”

There was one massive flaw in that line of thought. “How many Earth humans do you think saw our battler enter Earth’s atmosphere?” Romy asked.

The others returned her grim expression. The obvious answer was, a lot. And who knew what machines had registered the battler’s entrance.

“The Mandate will search for the wreckage.”

Just like Atlas had.

“And when they don’t find our bodies?” Romy asked.

Thrym sighed. “Then they’ll search for us.”

“Find us.” Elara’s voice trembled.

“Probably kill us,” Phobos added cheerfully. “Don’t forget that.”

Elara sniffed. Romy’s fiery friend was at the very edge of her tolerance. “So, what? Stay. Wait while Deimos recovers. And then escape?”

It was a vague, uncertain plan. Stupid really, when the Mandate could show up without warning. But when the floor has just caved from underneath you, you hang on to whatever control you can to stay afloat.

Romy gazed at her knot with solemn eyes. “We learn all we can while we’re here. We take anything that might help us survive,” she said.

Three pairs of grave eyes met her own.

The door flew open, startling the group.

“Sorry, team,” the doctor said. A grin covered his boyish, bespectacled face.

Romy frowned at his cheery façade. They’d just learned their entire existence was a lie. But the man with the curly, mousey hair was oblivious to their disapproval as he spun around to the hall, calling, “After me, aliens.”

CHAPTER TEN

Eventually Romy stopped questioning everything Houston was doing. After their visit to Deimos, he’d wasted no time in plugging her into medi-tech, which didn’t concern her. It was a routine occurrence on the orbitos. But she knew that by doing so, he could alter the programming of her nanos.

He took a lot longer on her than he did on any of the others.

His answers to her questions included so many foreign words of Latin origin that she instead asked him, “Is it safe?” His reply of “yes” had somewhat reassured her. Which didn’t make any sense, considering he was a bit strange.

The man took blood from Romy and the others, and injected them several times before programming the medi-tech to update their nanos for Earth diseases. Then, after what felt like hours, Houston finished jabbing and tinkering and led them to an isolated “bungalow,” leaving the four members of the knot with instructions to clean and eat.