“You were a fool to believe her,” Chanur answered, unblinking. Park could barely recognize her; the physician suddenly seemed to stand much taller, straighter. She seemed somehow much more present than she had ever been, as if she had stepped into her body like it was previously an empty suit. She jerked her head at Fulbreech. “You stay here. We’ll talk things out in a moment.”

He lapsed into silence. Park wouldn’t look at him, but she thought, Don’t you dare, you fucking traitor. Don’t side with them. Defend us!

Fulbreech said nothing; out of the corner of her eye she saw him nod. Chanur turned to Park and pointed the gun at her. “Get up.”

Everyone moved in a weird, frozen silence after that, as if they had all been requisitioned to act out parts in a play, against their wills. There was a sullen, awkward tension; Park batted aside Fulbreech’s hand when he went to help her up. Boone hauled Sagara roughly to his feet, despite his broken leg—Park supposed that was the genetic augments at play, pumping abnormal levels of adrenaline through his system, dulling his pain. Park could see that Sagara was tense and silent, and that he had a lot of blood running down his pant leg. She hurried over to brace him up with her shoulders. No one else moved to help him: not even Fulbreech.

“Fucker broke my leg,” Boone growled, not looking at it. Park also didn’t want to look at it: his calf and foot were twisted at an unnatural angle from the rest of his body. She looked instead up into Sagara’s white face and said, “We need to stop the bleeding.”

“It didn’t hit bone,” was all he said in response.

Chanur motioned to them with her gun. “No talking,” she said. To Boone she snapped: “I’ll see to your leg in a moment. Stay here with Fulbreech and make sure we can still get off this goddamned planet.”

Then she turned back to Park and gestured for her to start walking. When Park glanced at her eyes, it felt as if she was peering into the depths of a pool with no bottom.

They were marched down the corridor to Deck B by Natalya and Chanur. The entire time Park’s mind raced with possibilities, looking for escape routes, some moment of distraction she could use to her advantage. But the strange, lightning-quick, nuclear energy had been drained out of her—and now she was saddled with Sagara’s weight as he limped against her, tight-lipped with pain. It seemed to her that he wasn’t even breathing. On the other hand, Natalya made little hissing noises as she walked: either from an injury or a barely stifled fury, a complaining desire to kill them. Park wasn’t sure.