Park wanted to say something, do something—she wanted to see if Fulbreech could see her, she wanted to throttle the three mutineers. But at the urge to move, she felt the corkscrewing, spinning sensation again, and then the feeling of hurtling away from the scene, falling back toward her own body. The golden light retreated from her mind. There was the feeling of coming back to herself with a horrible jolt, as if she’d been sleeping on a flight and had experienced sudden turbulence. And when Park opened her eyes, she felt that she could control herself again, that she could breathe—but also as if she were limited, constrained within the dense, heavy clay of her own body. For a moment she was not sure of who or where she was.

Then she looked at Sagara and said, “I think I can open the door.”

—

To Sagara’s credit, he didn’t question her. He only tested his leg lightly and said: “I think I can stand.”

Park felt a little silly at that; only the sudden fierce throbbing pain in the back of her head distracted her from her embarrassment. She said, “I think the unity rain came while we were asleep—”

“I was not asleep,” Sagara corrected. She noticed for the first time that he had the silver point of the Regenext syringe glinting in his clenched hand. “But I did feel—something. I think they’re trying to start the ship.”

“They are,” Park said in a rush. She closed her eyes, trying to recall the golden feeling, the ethereal scene she’d witnessed. “They were arguing about it.”

“How do you know?”

I think I merged with them, Park wanted to say, but that didn’t feel right: if it were true, why had none of the others reacted to her presence, or consciousness, or whatever it was? She felt another tremor of nausea as she reviewed the details of the experience; how she’d seemed to turn without turning. The feeling of corkscrewing in place. When she thought of that, the sensation of light flooded back into her again, but this time it was a different feeling as well: something almost wrathful, sudden and confounding like lightning, heavy and metallic like dark iron being poured into her bones. Park felt a shifting in her brain, like gears clicking together. Then she pushed the feeling outward, away from her and toward the door—and there was a sudden clicking noise. The sound of pneumatic locks withdrawing.

Park opened her eyes to find Sagara staring.

“It can’t be open,” he said.

“It is,” she told him, more certainly than she felt.

Sagara reached out and pushed open the freezer door.

23.