The ship swayed beneath them as they walked. They were still hiding in the lee of Eos’s bulk, to avoid the proton storm bombarding its light side. Park’s efforts to resend her messages to ISF Corvus had, once again, failed. Before breakfast she had also recorded a memo to send out to the crew, offering counseling if anyone had concerns about the events of the night before. She’d prepared a script in case anyone happened to inquire about the cause of Holt and Ma’s behavior. “Standard emotional distress,” she’d say. “Normal for colony missions. Let’s talk about you.”

But no one came to see her.

She passed a few crewmembers on her walk with Jimex, earning curious looks and even—in the case of Natalya Severov—surly glares. She even ran into Commander Wick, who looked tired, hassled. He didn’t question her about where she was going with their android janitor. He did say, “Park. Thanks for handling all that with Ma last night.”

“Of course,” Park said. She wanted to ask him about how his search was going, but sensed that it would only lead to more awkwardness, stone-walling—as in the case of Fulbreech. So she said, “Are you aware that Boone has an EL gun on this ship?”

Wick looked at her, surprised. “Why shouldn’t he?” he asked. “He’s in charge of military operations. He’s here to provide protection.”

“He keeps it in your room,” Park said, a little flustered by his non-reaction. “While you’re sleeping. It should be in an armory of some kind. There should be accountability. You don’t think so?”

“I think,” Wick said, “that I trust everyone on this ship to do their job. You should, too.”

She was met everywhere with those kinds of dead ends. Most of the crewmembers were preoccupied with scuttling around, whispering to each other, looking uneasily at the ends of the long corridors. The ones she could stop and talk to were always in a hurry to get to someplace else. There was a heavy, simmering feeling in the air, as if rainclouds were about to move in.

Jimex eventually led her to Deck C, the underbelly of the ship and the floor that held most of the storage rooms and utility closets. He didn’t offer any reasoning for why he would take her there, but Park saw the logic in it: there were so many unoccupied little cubbyholes that Holt could easily be squirreled away in one of them.