Parvin sighs. “Isadora is pregnant.”
There’s a moment where Speaker’s facial features remain completely motionless. I watch as he processes the information, linking it to Beckway’s actions, then moving into the territory of his own response. It’s not the first time that I feel like I’m watching an actor pick an emotion for his next scene. When Speaker finally finds the right words, they come stumbling out.
“Can you not see both moons?” A massive smile splits his face. “She is with child.”
Jaime shrugs. “And that’s…exciting?”
“I cannot imagine our people being more excited about anything. Long have we discussed your arrival with excitement. But a child? A child would be a jewel in the eyes of our people.”
A jewel. The thought has me grinding teeth. Now I know why she left, what she’s doing. Isadora might not have performed well in the standings, but I know she’s smart. Maybe she weighed the odds of fighting past Morning and realized she had no chance on her own. That first night, she swayed some of the Genesis crew, but not all of them.
That left one possible option unexplored: the Imago. What happens if they really value the child this much? What status will Isadora be given?
“…I’m unfamiliar with human birth cycles. Is the child likely to be born here?”
Azima nods to Speaker. “She looked like she was already halfway there.”
Speaker can’t contain his excitement. “You understand what this means to our people? To host such a miracle would restore hope to even the lowest of our kind. This is a great sign of what is to come and a great sign of the hope you offer us. It makes sense to me that Beckway would escort her to Sevenset. He should have called for a replacement first, but if Isadora was insisting to be taken to the capital? It was the right decision. Her health is paramount.”
Parvin’s been listening attentively. Now she pipes back in.
“So you’ll take her, but not Holly?”
Speaker swallows before answering. “Forgive me, but it is a different situation. Holly will not benefit from quicker treatment. Our remedy for her will work or it will not, regardless of the time she receives it. But Isadora? A pregnancy?”
He’s so excited he doesn’t even have the words to go on. Parvin turns her attention back to us. “Makes sense. Be careful, Morning. You know what she wants. I’ve talked to her about Emmett. In her mind, all of this ends in blood.”
I start to respond, but what can I say? Until we show her Roathy, alive and unharmed, she’ll be working to put me in the ground. I knew she’d come for me, but I never imagined she’d come with the weight and blessing of the Imago people behind her.
Anton comes back around the truck. “It’s all clear. No one in range of our guns.”
Morning nods, turning back to Parvin. “Are you heading back to Foundry?”
“No other choice,” Parvin says. “It’s just the three of us, and I have to keep an eye on Holly the whole time.”
“Have you let Katsu’s team know?” Morning asks. “I don’t like the idea of them not knowing what’s going on, especially if they could be in danger.”
Parvin shakes her head. “I’ll link you through to him. We need to get moving.”
“Copy that,” Morning says. “Be safe.”
The screen blinks back to blueprints of the mine. Morning sweeps forward and swipes to a new screen. A little message appears from Parvin. Morning double taps the link and buzzes through to Katsu’s squad. It takes about a minute or so, but the display finally patches video footage onto our screen. We get a live feed of a familiar, fog-laced landscape.
Our call’s been accepted, but the screen is empty.
“Where are they?” I ask.
Fog swirls, and Morning covers her mouth, gasping. The others crowd around, and we see what she does: dark forms everywhere. Morning taps the screen, and the shot zooms in on the nearest body. Katsu. My friend stares lifelessly at the screen, all his humor erased in death. A streak of blood runs from lip to chin.
Morning pans, and we see Longwei half buried in mud. Jazzy is folded over him like an abandoned chair. Alex sits against a distant stone, his shoulders slumped and chin lolling. There’s no sign of their fifth teammate, Noor.
Before any of us can think of something to say, laughter bursts through the audio. Loud and obnoxious laughter. The shot widens, and we watch Katsu double over, his chin shaking as he raises his arms in triumph. Like revenants called back from graves, the entire crew starts to move. We’re all staring helplessly when Bally’s wide face appears. He’s laughing too.
“Katsu has taught me the art of a practical joke. Were we successful?”
“Jesus in heaven,” Anton hisses. “What is wrong with you people?”
Bally frowns. “You look upset. In that case, it was not my idea.”
Katsu shoulders into the frame. “It was my idea! We’ve had this planned ever since we found out there was a comm system. So glad you finally called. Totally worth it!”
Morning has no words. She shakes her head and stalks off.
I see Noor edge onto the screen, her smile bursting out of the circle of her hijab.
“I did the fake blood!” she says proudly.
Longwei leans in too. “I didn’t think it was a good idea.”
Katsu scowls at Longwei before turning back to us. “How’s my favorite crew?”
As I explain the situation, the humor fades. Their faces are a mixture of sympathy and accusation. “But she wasn’t kidnapped or anything?” Noor asks.
“Nah, she went on her own. Speaker thinks she’ll be…celebrated.”
“Good for her,” Katsu says. “Bad for you.”
All I can do is nod. “I’m just glad you assholes aren’t dead.”
Bally shoulders back into the frame. “I just learned that word. It’s Katsu’s favorite.”
I can’t help rolling my eyes. It’s taken Katsu all of two days to convert Bally to his particular brand of humor. “After what happened with Holly, did you really think it was time for a fake-death joke? Do I need to walk you through how stupid that is?”
Katsu just shrugs. “My humor is a little too sophisticated for some, I understand.”
All I can do is shake my head. “Head back to Foundry. We’ll meet you there. No more accidents or surprises today. Let’s just get back so we can figure out the best move. Be safe.”
Katsu gives an official-looking salute. Bally mimics him and the feed cuts. The screen reverts to maps as I turn and watch the others make preparations to head home. It feels like a wasted day for everyone except Speaker, who continues raving about the new life coming to their planet. It’s clear that he has no idea just how bad this could be for me. Morning knows, though, and I can see the weight of it riding her shoulders. She sends Jaime up to the front cabin and climbs into the back of the truck with me. Her look is fire and fury.
“No matter what happens,” she says, “I’ll fight for you. Got that?”
The truck engine revs, and we start to rumble over the nearest hill.
“Loud and clear.”
Our truck rolls back into Foundry in the middle of the afternoon. The timing of the other groups is borderline flawless. Parvin’s team follows a few minutes after, and Katsu comes in right on their heels. We’re early enough that we catch Kit on the far side of the facility, tending to one of Babel’s freshly planted gardens. The entire group gathers as he makes his way over.
“When he takes the trucks back to the depot,” Morning says, loud enough for the others to hear, “I want everyone in the main hall. We need to have a family chat.”
There are nods all around. Morning puts on a smile as Kit approaches, confusion clear as day on his face. “Did I miss something?” he asks. “It’s the middle of the afternoon.”
“Isadora and Ida are gone,” Morn
ing answers. “Beckway went with them. You can tell Babel that we suspect Isadora is using her pregnancy to gain favor with the Adamites.”
Kit’s eyebrows just about jump off his forehead. “Gone? Pregnant? What?”
“You take the trucks and we’ll catch you up inside,” Morning suggests.
“But production…” Kit glances up at the sky again. “We’re supposed to use every hour we can to bring nyxia into the facility. That’s the job you signed on to do.”
Morning nods. “And it’s the job we’ll continue doing once we’ve sorted this out. Parvin’s team is down to three. Their escort is gone. We need to reorganize.”
Kit looks frustrated, but he doesn’t offer any solutions, either. “I’ll get the trucks below, but the bosses are not going to be happy with this. Hope they don’t dock your pay.”
He walks past the group and accesses the Foundry interface again. We all move toward the entrance, trying to look as casual as we can. Morning strides at the head of the group, glancing back only once to make sure that Kit’s moving in the opposite direction.
The second we’re inside, all eyes turn to Morning. I don’t know what she’s got planned, but Anton walks beside her and I know whatever it is will be a huge first step in the right direction. She guides us out of sight of the entrance. In one sweeping gesture, she draws the nyxia from her shoulders. The substance expands, misting around us to form a translucent cube that’s just big enough to fit all of us inside. I flinch at the snap of static, but it’s followed by complete silence. The distant trucks, the snatches of wind, all gone. It’s like we’re standing in our own private room. Omar clears his throat, and the sound echoes off the nyxian walls.
Holly starts to walk toward the shared living space. I can see a pile of dishes there that has caught her eye, but Parvin puts a hand on her shoulder.
“Wait,” she says. “Holly. You’re still one of us. Sit, please.”
Holly’s empty eyes process the command. She glances back at the dishes, like she’s storing the information for later, and decides to sit down. Parvin keeps a steady hand on her shoulder and nods a go ahead to Morning.
“It took me a while to figure out this manipulation,” Morning explains. “But we can speak freely in here. We can see out of the cube, but Babel can’t see in it. They can’t hear in it, either. My nyxia is jamming every signal. You can all speak freely.”
The group shifts uncomfortably. We all trust Morning’s ability, but I think the idea of actually dissecting our employer’s motivations will always feel dangerous.
“When Babel recruited me, they made a lot of promises,” Morning starts. “I’ll admit that I liked the idea of being rich. I liked the sound of mi abuelita getting the medical treatment she needs. I even liked the idea of exploring a new world. But I think we can all agree that Babel hasn’t exactly kept their promises.”
Most of the group nods. Only Parvin disagrees.
“My parents were receiving payments,” she says. “I don’t like how Babel set up the fights outside the escape pods, but at the end of the day, did they force you to fight? Or did people choose to fight? I think we signed on for this. If we do the job, we’ll be rewarded. I see no overwhelming evidence to disbelieve Babel’s ultimate promises. Not yet.”
Alex takes up Morning’s cause. “The girl on your ship, Emmett. What was her name?”
“Kaya,” I reply softly. “Her name was Kaya.”
“What about her family?” Alex asks. “Will they be paid?”
Parvin shrugs, and I’ve never seen a more heartless gesture. It has my pulse soaring.
“She didn’t fulfill the contract,” Parvin says. “I imagine Babel will send the promised salary, but we agreed to this. We took on the risk. We signed the papers.”
I don’t trust myself to speak. Azima notices my trembling and sets a hand on my shoulder to steady me. I let the words I want to say burn holes through my tongue. I’m trying to file this one away, but it has me too hot to think straight. I’m thankful when the others speak up for me, because I’m not the only one bothered by Parvin’s response.
Anton says, “We didn’t agree to die. We didn’t agree to kill. Would your parents trade the money to get you back, Parvin? To see you safely home? Don’t be heartless.”
“Heartless?” Parvin replies. “I’m being logical. Did you even read the contract?”
“Of course I did,” Anton snaps. “I don’t remember anything about forced murder.”
“No,” Parvin replies crisply. “But there’s an entire page about the risks of the venture. We decided to come anyway. We took a risk, a calculated one. Holly knew that when she signed up. Kaya knew it too. We took that risk because we wanted the money.”
“Enough,” Morning says. She holds out a small device, no bigger than her thumb. She makes a show of pressing play. “I know how much you like evidence, Parvin.”
Audio trembles out. We all know the voice. Babel’s chief of space operations—David Requin—speaks with that familiar confidence. “We chose our Adams and Eves carefully.”
A muddled voice replies. Requin answers with bite.
“That’s not the point. We have to keep up appearances at home until it doesn’t matter. That’s the point. Make the payments, supply the treatments, and put on a good show, Roman. Do that for the next year and it won’t matter.”
The other voice sounds again. The words mutter and rattle.
“They aren’t going home,” Requin answers. “If any of our top-tier plans succeed, they’ll never be interviewed or interrogated by anyone on Earth. Going home was never a realistic option and you know that. They would shed too much light on our operations in space. Either the Adams and Eves can start a new world here, or they—”
His words gutter out. The truth silences everything. I’ve known about Babel’s dark side since the day Defoe shoved Karpinski down in front of me and offered to let me execute him, but I still feel like I’m falling through worlds. This is confirmation. They aren’t taking us home, and they never were.
I can see the truth hitting the entire room. It’s not just Parvin, either. A few of the others have spent all this time thinking the best of Babel. Morning shoves the device back in her pocket.
“Is that enough reason to react?” she asks.
I know I should be thinking this through, analyzing it all. But my first thought jumps to the fact that Morning had this tape and never shared it with me. With Anton, but not me?
Parvin looks defeated. “I didn’t know.”
“No one knew,” Morning replies, her voice calm and assuring. “But now that you do know, I hope you understand why we have to act. Babel intends to keep us here. For what purpose, I don’t know. But they aren’t gonna let us go home. As long as they control the Tower Space Station, we’re stuck here. We know they’re shipping nyxia back to Earth, so we know there are freighters returning that way. Problem is Babel controls everything in space right now.”
I can feel the knowledge of last night burning like a hole in my chest. I glance over at Jaime. He locks eyes with me, clearly struggling with the same thing. But this is our family. Down here, these are the only people we can actually trust.
“We found one of Babel’s backup plans last night,” I say.
Attention swings my way.
“I was helping Jaime with his wound.” He nods in confirmation. “I noticed scuffs on the floor. There was a trapdoor that led down to a secret chamber. They have about seventy marines stored in cryogenic chambers. Just waiting to be activated.”
Anton whistles. The rest of the crew looks like they almost don’t believe us. Azima’s dark eyebrows are about through the roof. “Frozen marines? I want to see them!” she says.
“They’re not an exhibit at the zoo,” Katsu snarks.
Morning waves them to silence. “So they’re just sleeping?”
/>
I nod. “For now. Kit found us down there, but he didn’t suspect anything. He thinks we’re all Babel just like him. His dad is down there. He’s one of the frozen soldiers.”
“His dad?” It’s the first time I’ve seen Noor speak and not smile. “This is so wrong.”
“Look, we have to keep in mind that Babel’s never had a foothold on-planet.” I’ve been thinking about the logistics ever since we found the bodies. “The Adamites have been winning this game since jump. Every one of you saw that first video. Babel got butchered, man. So what changed? We did. We’re their only way onto the planet.”
There are nods all around.
Morning changes directions. “So what about the Adamites? Can we trust them?”
“Trust the Adamites?” Parvin asks, like all of this is ridiculous. “I get that they’ve held their own against Babel, but there’s no sign of them succeeding in space. Do they have a fleet of ships I’ve forgotten about? Fighting Babel means destroying our only way home.”
The idea of not going home silences everyone again. I don’t have any real answers. No one does. Both Parvin and Morning are right. Babel has us chained up pretty good. The Imago seem like our only possible ally, but there’s something off there too.
“Imago,” I say out loud. “Let’s have enough respect to call them by their real name, not the one Babel made up for them. They’re called the Imago.”
Morning nods gratefully at the correction.
“And I’m not sure how to feel about them either.” The others are listening closely. I forgot that at least a few of them respect me and see me as a leader in my own right. “I mean, you noticed how happy they were, right? When they met us for the first time? It makes sense. Babel said they don’t have kids. But all this talk about restoring hope and all that…It just doesn’t line up, you know? We know who Babel is, but I say the jury’s still out on the Imago. I don’t think we can just throw this at them and expect they’ll play ball.”
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