Suddenly it made her a little sad, that she had to remind herself of that. She shouldn’t have to consciously remember such an intuitive thing.

“And your money,” Boone said.

Park started. “What?”

He scowled at her. “They don’t just have your family,” Boone said. “They have your money, your access to everything, your tech and travel rights. You do something to piss them off, they’ll strip you of everything and send you and your whole family back to Earth. And everyone knows that’s basically a death sentence.”

“I’m from Earth,” Park said. “It’s not that bad.”

Boone snorted. “In a dome, I bet. Try doing it in the wild, when they won’t give you the clearance to use a goddamn stun gun.” He shook his head. “Honestly, throwing you out into the cold with nothing to your name—shit like that should be illegal. What gives them the right?”

That was some of the talk that had started the Outer System Wars. And the Privacy conflicts. But Park, wanting to seem somewhat agreeable, said, “They gave themselves the right when they claimed most of unsettled space. No one stopped them then.”

“They took advantage. We were too busy dealing with the Comeback and trying to survive.”

“And now they’re too powerful—why would they ever pass laws limiting their own power over people, with no one to challenge them?”

“People challenge them,” Boone said. He eyed her. “You could.”

Why should I? Park thought, feeling defensive—accused, as if Boone thought she had contributed to this problem and was enabling the ISF’s hold over him. Why didn’t you know what you were signing up for when you were conscripted?

He must have been born into it, she thought, staring at the lump of his figure in the dark. His parents could have been the ones bargaining for passage to the colonies—offering pledges of their fealty in exchange, along with the lifelong servitude of their children. Maybe he hadn’t had a choice. She’d simply been recommended for the job by her superiors in New Boston; she could have backed out at any time. She still could now.

“You talk of Earth like it’s a hellscape,” she said. “But I realize now that I was lucky to be born there.”

Boone was sullen now. “Yeah,” he grunted. “Like I said. You don’t know what it’s like.”

They walked on for a while in silence, working their way steadily down the hall. They had no utility flashlight, and Park’s head ached from the strain of peering through the gloom and listening hard for any out-of-place shuffles or footsteps. There was a tension in her stomach; she’d seen old footage of haunted houses, theme parks where you paid to have things jump out at you. This felt like that. Insane to her that people could be addicted to fear.

“You said you’d kill someone for ISF,” she said after a moment, feeling a little strange—as if not totally in control of herself. A little giddy, and paranoid. “Is that really why you shot Holt?” Something sparked in her brain. “Or let them freeze Hunter?” Would you kill me, too?