The ever-present deep hum of distant generators reverberated through level forty as the Passerine crew– and their excitable maintenance hand– ran across an empty street towards the relative safety of their hangar and the awaiting gaze of the Passerine’s watchful cockpit windows.

Little life stirred in the late hours of night, apart from the ghosts that drifted soundlessly from the ventilation units high above in their uneasy forms of white mist.

They stirred in the shadows, blurring the lines of real and unreal, sharp and soft, plunging the entire street into a shifting mess of identical hangar doors and the same eerie, neon-yellow flickering street lights that spread all over Lisk. 

  The captain threw open a creaky pair of hangar doors and waited as his crew slipped into the shadows, where the large, bird-like transport awaited them, like a mother hen watching patiently for her chicks. 

  Hangar 42’s maintenance hand lingered in the doorway, apprehensive brown eyes flicking up at the captain.

  “So, is the crew going to let a mechscrubber help out tomorrow?” Evren asked quietly. “Or am I banned from hangar 42?” 

  Captain Rigg brushed her words off. “It’s not up to them. We agreed on seven days of work– seventy five Disks. And unlike your acquaintances in The Shaft, I’m a man of my word.” He gestured to the transport behind him. “Tomorrow we take off at sunrise for Refinery Bay, so make sure you're here before then to help.” 

  The small Geodian seemed surprised. “With the salt?” 

  “With the salt,” echoed Captain Rigg. 

  A small Secodack materialised by Captain Rigg’s side, almost supernaturally. Aside from the Fletric, he was the only one that hadn’t gone into the ship yet.

“Actually, it’s already morning. So technically, we’re leaving in like, five hours.” 

  Rubbing his eyes, the captain mumbled into his hand. “That’s why I'm so tired.” 

  “Not because you just spent the last few hours running from Kovals?” Evren asked helpfully in a whisper. 

  Captain Rigg dropped his hand. “It wasn’t running. It was strategically avoiding a threat.” 

  Charge nodded once. “So that’s what the kids are calling it these days.”

  Ignoring the small Secodack and his comments, Captain Rigg directed his attention to Evren. “What are you going to do now?” 

  Confused, the small Geodian pointed behind her to where a dark tunnel opened wide into the street like a gaping mouth. The ghosts shifted like mist around it. 

  “What do you mean?” she asked. “I’m gonna go home.” 

  Captain Rigg tried again. “Kovals is still looking for you, aren’t they?” 

  With a shrug, the young Geodian chanced a sly smile. “They have been for days, so why should it be a problem, now?” She pulled the hood of her poncho up. “Don’t worry, Captain Rigg. I know these levels better than a shadow knows a hole.” 

  Captain Rigg looked down the street, then back to Evren. He relinquished his troubled thoughts with a nod.

“Okay. But get caught by Kovals, and I’ll shoot you for putting us behind.”

  Evren nodded, like being shot was a fair punishment for failure. “Don’t worry, I’ll be here. Early.” She straightened, looking past Captain Rigg’s shoulder to the Passerine.

“Besides, I’ve always wanted to go to Refinery Bay.” 

  Charge folded his arms. “Why? Is that where they hold the Illiterate Mechscrubber conventions?” he quipped flatly. 

  Dragging her eyes from the transport, Evren frowned down at him worriedly. “No, it’s where Covien's old ocean bed used to be, and the salt leftover is a product of–”

  Folding his arms, Charge cocked his head with a smile. “Oh, look, that’s so cute– You don’t even know when people are insulting you.” He moved a four fingered hand to his heart. “Sweet child.” 

  Evren pouted, folding her own arms and muttering, “ Yeah, well you bite people, so… there.”

  Charge’s smile was replaced with a grimace as he bared his pointed canines. If Aster wasn’t mistaken, the Secodack even produced a small growl as he glowered at Evren. 

  With an exasperated sigh, Captain Rigg waved them both off, starting to pull the heavy doors shut. “Alright, that’s enough.” He looked at Evren. “You, get home. And you–” he looked at Charge. “Go to bed.”

  Evren looked up from Charge to the captain– nodding with a small, obedient bow. “I’ll be here.” She dashed into the street with a light call over her shoulder. 

  “Don’t let Kovals catch you while I’m gone!” 

  Rolling his eyes, Captain Rigg watched as Evren sped down the unnaturally misty street, hands still on the door. 

 “Like we need her help,” Charge scoffed next to him.

  Captain Rigg looked down at the Secodack, an eyebrow raised. “You jumped into that garbage bin pretty quick for someone who doesn’t need help.” 

  Charge made a face, turning towards the ship. “We’re a Freelance Merchant crew,” he said as he walked away. “We would have figured something out. Together.”  

With a yawn, Charge gestured around tiredly, “you know, like we always do."

  Captain Rigg remained by the door, silent. He watched the tunnel that Evren had disappeared into, gears moving silently in his head like the mist that shifted around the tunnel mouth. 

  Sighing, the captain shut the heavy doors to hangar 42. They thudded into place quietly, and he went to draw the locks back into place again. 

  He paused, blue eyes squinting in the poor light of the hangar. 

“Hey, Charge?”

   By the landing ramp, Charge turned back around. “What?” the Secodack called across the hangar. Only the small engineer could make such a normal, one-word reply sound so hostile. 

  Captain Rigg ran a finger over the shiny metal braces that held the lock-bar in place for their hangar. “Did you, by any chance, fix these locks today? Or change them? Or… steal something from them?” 

  “No,” Charge called back. “Why, is something wrong?” 

  Captain Rigg slid the bolt into place, testing it. “It’s just… I thought they were rusty. But this piece of metal– this looks new.” 

  Charge’s distinct, coarse Secodack laugh echoed over to him from the ship ramp.

“What? Like someone came up here and replaced them for us?” He shook his head, stomping into the hold. “Your eyesight must be going, crazy old man,”  Captain Rigg heard the Secodack laugh.

Captain Rigg turned, a glare on his face as he walked back to the ship. “Excuse me, Captain Perseid– I’m not that old.”

Even as he said the words, Charge’s laugh only got more maniacal, and the Fletric shook his head in defeat. Having the last word with the Secodack was just as impossible as swimming up a hill. In a desert. At noon. 

As Captain Rigg and his Second Engineer went into the hold, closing it after themselves, the Passerine finally seemed to untense, for every Farer knew that a ship couldn't rest until its crew was safely inside it. 

  Its cockpit windows, located high up on its bird-like head, watched the door with a soft glow emanating from the humming Nav consoles and computing units from within. 

  Patiently, vigilly, the Passerine kept her gaze fixed on the small door of her hangar– and more importantly, the locks that had quietly been replaced while her crew was away. 

Warehouse District, 1:47 AM

  As my Data Tab chittered away to itself, my mismatched boots disturbed very little as I walked through the abandoned concrete streets of the Warehouse District. 

  No crunch of gravel, or soft bend of grass or flowers be neath my soles, only the coarse grit of chipped concrete and stale, forgotten dreams… I think. I had never personally stood on forgotten dreams. I imagined they’d feel something like broken pieces of concrete, but I would never really know, and it would never really matter– like so many other things in my life. 

  I listened absently to the echo of words projected from my Data Tab, the noise helping to brighten the late night darkness that tried to press in around me. 

  “This is the thirty-eighth replay of auditory file No. 45…” Along with the narrator, I mouthed the words like they were my own. “A Brief Overview of the Kosmoversal Governments, a research file brought to you by–”

  “Drum roll, please,” I interrupted the narrator with a flourish of my hand. 

 “– the Entrillian Guild of Records.” 

  The blue and green glow of the holographic projections displayed clear and crisp in the darkness of the creaky level, a neon beacon on the street I was walking through. Street lights were a precious commodity in Lisk, and any good Covienian would sooner throw themselves into a mining shaft than waste electricity on a part of Lisk that was only used by cursed, offworld street urchins.

 I glanced up at a lightbulb that had either exploded in its socket, or had been smashed out. Surprisingly, I couldn’t find my usual resentment for Lisk’s poor settlement maintenance tonight. I guffawed in its general direction. 

  “I don’t need you,” I told the passing street light as I hefted my Data Tab a little higher. “I got my projection.” My right hand found the pocket on my pant leg. “And I don’t even need to worry about not seeing in this crappy street anymore, because soon…” I smiled, eyes looking fondly at the projection while I patted the ticket safely in my pocket. “I will be gone.” 

  So while the street was dark, I didn’t seem to mind too much, because one; very soon, it would no longer be a problem, and two; I was eating a bread roll– and that covered a multitude of worries.

  If not all of them.

  I tried to concentrate on the narrator's introduction of governmental forces in ancient times, but I couldn’t get my brain to rest long enough to understand the words. Images from the day flashed across my mind while I tried to concentrate– Xander’s Hatiresh, the beetles, Captain Rigg with the empty soup bowl, Zara catching me when I nearly face-planted into the curb,  Oli Preastigat’s sad smile before putting his finger to his lips– and, of course, the bread. 

  I looked fondly at the cheese roll in my hand. 

 “Whatever carbs are,” I said before taking a bite, “I think I’m in love with them.” With a mouth full of bread, I squared my shoulders and squinted into the distance. “I feel invincible.”

  Chewing methodically, the words of the projection finally broke into my erratic attention span. 

  “Since then, many government forces over Kosmoversal history have used the multi-class citizen structure, the most noticeable being the Scelirian Order.” I nodded along seriously, taking another bite of a bread roll. I had no idea what she was talking about. 

  “Being in essence, a federation, the Sceliri united themselves under one banner and utilised the diversity of every captured planet with a singular government. Second class citizens were predominantly natives, and third class citizens were slaves.”  The Data Tab projected a crude image of what was believed to be the mark one Nefnat skeleton. Tall, imposing. Very un-Sevus like. I blinked. “Wow. That’s… that’s a lot of teeth…”

 “The Nefnats were the first to be ruled by the Scelirian government, long considered to be creatures without thought. Some consider the historical Scelirian Nefnats as a fourth class citizen, having even less rights than slaves.” 

   I took a breath in, wondering distractedly where Geodians fell in the Scelirian social structure. 

  As the lady chatted away about the slave trade the Sceliri started with the rest of the universe, I froze in my tracks. I suddenly didn’t recognize which part of the Warehouse District I was in. 

  Very quickly, my invincible feeling of self was replaced with the all-too-familiar realisation that I was lost. Again. 

  Instead of panicking– which usually was my first, and easiest course of action– I walked up to the wall of the street, running my hand over its crumbly surface for what I counted to be about ten steps. 

  After my tenth step, my eyes were rewarded for what they were searching for– a tiny smiley face carved into the ancient concrete, a foot off the ground. I ran my finger over it with my free hand, kneeling in the street. 

  My fingers found a star next to the smiley, and I took in a breath of relief. “Oh, I've missed my exit.” 

  Stars meant I had passed the alley, circles meant that I was on the level below. A while back, I had to start mapping a system to navigate the Warehouse District, after getting lost and giving up on my brain's ability to remember directions. Now, it was simple to find home: just follow the smiley. 

  I rifled around in my bag again, pulling out another bread roll and nibbling on it. I was glad Captain Rigg had let me keep them. He had admitted on our way back up to the hangar that returning the stolen items would be rather redundant, not to mention extremely dangerous, so I took upon myself– as a good Kosmoversal citizen, and an unbiased third party to the Passerine’s many troubles– to hide the evidence. 

 The projection was talking about something different now, and I squinted, trying to piece together what I had missed. “–employing democratic views and systems, such as the present day Council of Twelve. Entrillian Empresses and Emperors have relied on the Council of Twelve to pass laws and decrees for over a century, improving the living conditions of many planets.”

  I looked around the darkened warehouses I was passing. “Can you ask them to send some electricity to the Fringe?” I asked the lady, with a mouth half full of bread. “Or some bread?’ 

  Undeterred, she continued. “In some places, settlements and planets are run by mafia-like organisations and groups in the absence of real government. This is true especially in the Fringe, where the Scelirian Order degraded the existing government on purpose before they were finally fought back in the Blue Fringe War.”

I took a bite of bread as my  Data Tab projected the Blue Fringe Alliance crest. Those words made sense to me, but I wasn’t sure how. I was never sure how things made sense, just that there was a little voice in my lungs or in my head that told me when something made sense, or didn’t. Right now, it made total sense that the Scelirian Order purposefully stripped the planets they were occupying of governments so it would be chaos when they inevitably lost the war. I took another bite of bread in the lonesome warehouse street. “That’s not fair.”

  “But with the help of the twelve Entrillian Guilds, the Empirium is inspiring order back into the Kosmoverse, bringing things like schools, food, and transport to the farthest reaches of the galaxy.” In place of the Blue Fringe Alliance crest, an impressive star emerged that looked to be surrounded by intricate, hollow bands. The projection looked like an atom, but instead of a nucleus at its centre, there was an ever elegant, eight-pointed, over-detailed Entriallian star. The Entrillain Star.

“Governments in the Outworlds are less studied–” the Tab continued. 

  “Yeah, whatever,” I interrupted the lady. “Like they actually researched the Outworlds.” 

  I clicked off the Data Tab abruptly, putting it in my pocket with a long, drawn-out breath. 

  “'Making the Kosmoverse a better place', my boot,” I muttered as I turned into my little side street. “I’ll side with the Entrillian Guilds when they stop hunting me for scientific research.” 

  As I got closer to the Power Relay and the maintenance hole above it, I could hear the faint, friendly patter of rain. Distantly, I realised that Covien's weather affected me in no way, anymore, seeing as I had no reason to be up in Surface Side… or the Port. 

  A small ache started in my chest. I didn’t want to think about the Port, or the Bot that was probably washing the windows in the middle of the night. I didn’t like the weight that spread over my collar bone and into my arms that told me that if I had been smarter, things could have gone differently. I wanted to say I knew that wasn’t true, but I didn’t know for certain. 

  As my previous feelings of invincibility struggled for dominance with the strange, heavy feeling in my chest, my eyes were drawn to a plant on the ground, and it mercifully silenced my thoughts.

The cold of the Warehouse District seeped up through the concrete and into my knees as I knelt on the ground, just a few metres from the ladder of the Power Relay. In front me lay a wilted flower, which sagged sadly over the small collection of rock shaped concrete shards at its base. It appeared that the crack that had originally caught the stray seed had been wonderful for sprouting in, but not for growing further. 

  “Oh no– I’m sorry, little flower,” I said tiredly, cupping the plant with my hands in a vain attempt to make it stand up again. “I’ve been so busy; I keep forgetting to give you water.”

    Reaching into my bag, I pulled out a bottle of water and unscrewed it with a small hiss. It wasn’t really water– I would need to go to the Surface Side for that. But apparently it looked the same, and tasted similar– and the plants didn’t care, because like me, they couldn’t be picky. 

  The thirsty plant received only half of the liquid I poured out, the rest dribbling over the concrete clumsily like all of my other good intentions.

  I patted its leaves after taking the bottle away. “Us street urchins gotta stick together, eh? Won’t be long now until I can plant you somewhere better…”

  Like a muted burst of light, I felt a warmth as my hands brushed over its leaves– almost like a small ray of sun had touched the plant, and warmed it, and held it. The feeling found its way into my ribs and started warming me on the inside, despite the rainy chill in the air. It was the opposite of the cold feeling that possessed me when I pressed my hands onto the cold Liskian ground– the opposite of the darkness that shrouded so many collective memories that jumped into my head of their own volition. 

  The opposite of the conflict and guilt inside the Passerine's table. 

  The plant still looked depressed and dehydrated, but I couldn’t help but think it was trying to say something like thank you. With a smile, I started rearranging the concrete shards around its base that I had found phases ago to keep it safe.

  “You’re very welcome, my good little friend,” I said, pulling a small empty paint pot closer and setting it next to the plant. I planned on putting it into the container when I left Covien, so I could smuggle it aboard the Leokesh freighter. Leokins liked to argue– a lot. So it would be better to just hide it and avoid being told no in the first place. 

 I gave it one last pat. “We’re both going to go somewhere very much better.” I stood tiredly, brushing off my pants. “You’ll see. Just hang in there.”

  Finally on top of my Power Relay, I took off my poncho with a breath of relief, sinking to the ground with my back against the wall.

  “Well, how did your day go…?” Smiley prompted cheerily as I yawned. 

  I finished my yawn, pulling off my red shirt and throwing it into my crate. Next I slid my mismatched boots off and wiggled my toes happily. “Man, I don’t even know where to start.” 

  Shivering in my dark tank top, I started to unwrap the bandages on my right arm slowly. “First, Captain Rigg got super angry with me, but then Xander told me what Hatiresh is–” 

  “You know what Hatiresh is,” Smiley interrupted me, sounding politely annoyed. “You don’t need him to explain it.” 

  I scoffed, balling up the smaller bandages that previously hid the scars on my hand. I started on the next bandage. “But this Geodian told me things I didn’t know. It just gave me more questions, though. Why didn’t I have any Hatir when I came out of the Astrogate? I’m pretty sure I’m old enough for it.” 

  I paused, looking at my reflection in the rough plastic of a water bottle next to me.

  “But again, I don’t really know how old I am,” I admitted after a moment. 

   The girl in the reflection seemed young, and scared– some of the many reasons I didn’t like looking at her. 

   Like I usually did from my reflection, I glanced away, going back to the bandages as I methodically unravelled them like Lewis had shown me so many times before. 

  “There were arguments, and supplies,” I continued to Smiley, “and glorious, glorious soup, and a bar fight, actually. And then I took them down to Oli Preastigat’s second metal warehouse.” I dropped both my hands, looking up at the power wires hanging lethargically across the alley and above my relay. Some opportunistic vines had started to grow on one. 

  “We had to hide in some trash bins–” I started unravelling my bandages again, shaking my head– “and the Passerine crew talked. Like, really talked. And I think the reason why Captain Rigg is so grumpy all the time is because he’s scared. But I’m not sure why I think that. And I think that he thinks the rest of his crew doesn’t know that, but I’m pretty sure they do… anyway…” I started on the bandages around my shoulder, the ones that went over my tank top and hid the scars on my neck.

“After that, Oli said something weird. He said I shouldn’t trust Captain Rigg for some reason, like he was evil or something. Again, I don’t know why, though. Captain Rigg doesn’t feel evil. But… I guess I’ve never met anyone evil; I don’t know what they would feel like.” 

  Smiley digested the information, silent as it should have been. Finally, it spoke. “It doesn’t matter. You don’t even need to worry about it, okay? You’ll be gone in a few days, and so will they. Don’t bother trusting him. Don’t trust anyone. Because it won’t matter– they will be gone. And so will you.” 

  Finally free of all the fabric around my scars, I drew in a lengthy breath as my arm seemed to untense, and the cool air on the jagged, angry lines in my skin relieved the irritation there. Six months, and they still bothered the beetles out of me. 

  What Smiley had said finally sank into my thoughts. Don’t trust anyone? 

  “Yeah, I– I guess I should be careful. That’s what Lewis says…” I admitted sullenly. “They’ll be gone forever. And… I will be too.” I tried to sound excited, but I couldn’t quite manage it. 

   Shuffling to the wall, I dug around in my crate, finding some clean bandages in my box of trinkets. Clasping them in my hands, I found myself closing my eyes tiredly.

  The cool air felt so good on the angry skin. How could I put the bandages back on now?

  I opened my eyes again, putting the fabric back down. “Tomorrow.” 

  As I let go of the white fabric,  I saw a teethbrush at the bottom of the crate. It was mine, of course, given to me by none other than my patron paranoid robot.

  I turned away, shaking my head. I wanted to sleep. I didn’t want to brush my teeth.

  Something made me pause– pictures of my own teeth rotting out of my skull. Lewis had said that if I didn’t brush my teeth, then they would disintegrate, and I would have to eat green jelly for the rest of my life. 

  ‘It's a Geodian thing,’ he had said, ‘a very serious race-wide condition.’

  With a groan, I picked up my teethbrush and got it wet with my precious bottle of water. “Dumb robot,” I mumbled, brushing my teeth unhappily as I stood up.

   At least today I had actually eaten something to warrant brushing my teeth.

  I looked out of the maintenance hole as I forced my hand to go back and forth. All I could see was rain. Lifeless rain. Absently, I straightened the little miniatures I had on my windowsill with my free hand, silently berating the bird that kept on knocking them over while I was away. One of the figures was missing an arm, but that had been missing ever since I pulled it out of Tri-Dock 61’s storm drain. 

  Rather unimpressed that I had resorted to stealing things out of the drains, Lewis had explained, nonetheless, that it was a famous Kletisian knight, fabled to have stopped a great demon of Ethreal from stealing a guiding star that kept the first Farers from getting lost in the Void. 

  Even without its story, I had just thought it looked cool. 

  I wasn’t sure what race the figurine was, or what colour it had been originally, but the rust and pearl colours, and crab-like eyes, made it seem ancient and wise. Leaning on my elbows, I set it next to me on the opening ledge. 

  “A warrior fighting for good,” I remarked, making sure the fighter was standing upright. “I could use one of you right now, little magic crab man.” 

  The figurine stood motionless as I looked out at the rain, which fell softly, for once, as if Covien's temperamental weather patterns had forsaken its torrents for a gentler rainfall. The Hollow Wastes were hidden within the sheets of water falling from the heavens, and I realised as I looked out across them, that I could imagine anything  in their place– a multicoloured city from the Medium, to an ancient forest from the Tranquilian planets.  An ocean from Furl… Or perhaps a house, with a garden, and a little pen for animals, and maybe a small little family living in that small little house, all tucked inside snuggly as they waited for night to pass and the rain to stop… Together. 

  The Passerine was like a family, I found myself thinking. 

  True, they were a bunch of random people who were just trying to make it to the next contract, but they had been through a lot– and they were still a crew, trying to look after each other– trying to survive in this strange, oddly shaped universe without dying, or killing each other… 

  That was a family, wasn’t it? People who decided to stay… together…. when things were hard?

  Putting my teethbrush on the ledge, I reached around my neck and pulled the stone necklace over my head. 

  “If I’m lucky,” I muttered under my breath to the stone star, “you’ll be like them.” 

  Finally succumbing to the exhaustion of the day, I sunk down onto the Power Relay, grabbing my poncho and lying down in the corner with my back to the wall. I pulled the tattered fabric around my shoulders sleepily, reaching into my pocket and retrieving the teal, glowing ticket. 

   I cradled both the necklace and the ticket in my hands, eyes getting heavier and heavier as I watched them both protectively.

   My eyes traced the star– the only thing I had brought with me from the other side of the Astrostorm. 

  “Do you think they’re looking for me…” I asked Smiley with a yawn, “like I’m looking for them?” 

  Smiley was silent. 

  I took it as a simple sign that I needed to sleep, and I shut my eyes. 

   Like pulling wet, heavy fabric out of cold, frigid water, something pulled my consciousness back up into my brain. I opened my eyes, breathing in. 

  Someone had spoken.

  “Hello?” I croaked groggily, trying to blink away the weariness that appeared to have glued my bones to the metal of the Power Relay. I sat up, rubbing my eyes strangely like it could make the tiredness go away. 

  The darkness in the alley was interrupted only by the ticket that I had fallen asleep holding. It sat next to me, sending little pulses of light into the damp air as the numbers flickered. I frowned, picking it up. Had the little numbers always flickered? 

  I remembered that it had been someone’s voice that had woken me, and I swung my head around the alley quickly. 

  Despite my panic, everything was still– calm, even. The rain had stopped outside, and Operis’s moonlight shone feebly through clouds that were just as thin and ghostly as Covien’s atmosphere. Through the window above me, I could hear the steady drip–drip–drip of previously fallen rainwater continuing its waylaid descent to the ground– gravity steadily workinging to pull the liquid off stairways and metal braces and rusty brackets.

  I tilted my head to the side, frowning at Smiley.  “Did you say something?” I asked in a hoarse whisper, but Smiley was silent.

  Instead of an answer from the yellow painted face, I heard entirely different kinds of voices answer me, drifting down the long alleyway that hid me from the abandoned street. 

  The hair on the back of my neck rose as I listened to the strange noises, and I froze, barely breathing. 

  “We watched that hangar for a whole bloody evening,” I heard a voice speak, tired and  harsh, the sounds echoing off the metal walls unnaturally as they got closer. “And we followed her down here, but now what? This feels wrong. And stupid.”

  Another voice answered, speaking quietly as if it didn’t want to be heard, with the echoes making it hard to know where it was coming from. I looked at the roof, listening intently. 

  “I know, and this place is scriking huge. I didn’t know the Warehouse District was so big… Do you really think she’s in this alley?”

  “No, but we have to check, or me and you will be working scrap for the rest of our lives.”  

Whoever or whatever they were, they were standing in the street next to the alley. 

  My eyes widened in realisation. The Scavengers– they must have found me!

  Breathing fast, my hands fumbled as I threw the ticket into my small crate and pulled the necklace back over my head. Picking up my crate, I then started to panic. 

   The little figurine on the windowsill, plus two of my favourite rocks; a rolled up travel poster I had torn from Surface Side, and my hat and bag– they all went into the box.

Snapping its lid on snuggly, I threw my poncho over my head, looking over my shoulder every two milliseconds as if the action could buy me more time, even though I knew it couldn’t.

The light from their flashglows was closer now.

I was running out of time. 

  I looked to the maintenance hole– then the ladder– then Smiley– and then back to the maintenance hole again. I didn’t know why I was pretending I had a choice! 

  I poked my head out into the cold, crisp night air, just as a light shone on me from behind. 

  “Hey! There’s someone in this one!” I heard a Scavenger shout. “It’s her– Get her!” 

   Now, I was out of time. 

  I didn’t know how big of a drop it was to the service ramp below the maintenance hole, but I decided as I was falling, that it was too damn big. My bare feet hit the grate, the energy of the impact electrifying my knee joints; I couldn’t help the cry of pain that came to my lips. 

Staggering across the platform, I tried to find the stairs that lead to the level below, realising too late that I hadn’t remembered my boots. 

  With a sinking feeling that felt as heavy as Operis, I reached the ledge and saw that the ladders had rusted away on this side of the maintenance walkway, leaving a three-to-four metre drop.

   I heard voices above me– the Scavengers had got to the Power Relay in the alley, and they were climbing the ladder.

  I turned on my heel, planning on using the stairs on the other side to get down onto the walkway, when something that felt like a punch to the gut stopped me– 

  Most likely because it was a punch to the gut. 

  I curled into a ball and hit the grate. I heard my crate clatter onto the metal while I fought the urge to cry, pass out, and throw up, all at once. 

  Someone leant down next to me, grabbing my arm roughly as I fought my lungs for air. 

“You can live through this. Just don’t do anything stupid.” 

  Through the fog of drowsiness and pain, I distantly recognised the voice of my offender. 

  “Kan?” I croaked out, fighting another wave of nausea that gripped my stomach. I felt my body clenching tighter, and my knees hit my chin. I coughed in some vain hope that it would release the tight feeling in my body, but it only made me feel worse. Relief melted into my fear and created a pasty kind of realisation. “I-I thought you were a Scavenger...” 

  “Well, Oh’Krean– ” a second, lower voice intoned calmly from across the Platform. “It looks like your patience finally came through.” 

  I found enough strength to look up as I lay– curled pathetically– on the ground. 

  There was someone standing on the stairs. Someone tall.

That didn’t narrow it down much, considering the large pool of Covienians I had angered in my short existence– but what did narrow it down was the way the person moved. The confidence– the calmness. 

  The sinking feeling in my gut became more than the product of Kan’s heavy workboot. 

  The silhouette of Lou Keda Koval rose against the night sky as he took the last step off the stairway, his hair slicked back, and face pale and ashen under the light of Covien’s three moons. 

  “Going somewhere, mechscrubber?” Lou asked, his voice sounding strangely gentle– not gentle as baby birds were gentle, gentle like an ocean predator softly nudging a diver off their boat.

  Kan lifted me off the grate, jerking me to my knees. Her hand wrapped around my hair to force my gaze upwards as Lou stalked towards me. Fickle and ridiculous attempts were made to fight against Kan’s grip, but to no avail.

  “How– how did you find me?” My voice sounded more terrified than I wanted it to be, but I managed to ask the question, because despite my fear, I still wanted to know. 

  Lou’s dark, Covienian eyes looked down at me.

“Easy,” the owner of Kovals replied, looking up at the maintenance hole. “Those merchants you were helping.” His dark eyes looked back at me. “That Lightcore that exploded? It led us to their hangar, and then straight to you.”

“Because of the… Lightcore?” A pulse of fear shot through my heart. I fought the urge to cry as my eyes started to sting, and something stole the air that should have gone into my lungs. The rusting, crumbling warehouse openings around us seemed to lean in at my question. 

  “Did you hurt them?”

  Lou laughed, shaking his head. “Why waste precious resources making an example of people who are just going to leave this planet? Besides, no one cares what happens to them.” 

  Gary and Rin poked their heads out of the maintenance hole, the light from their flashglows illuminating the walkway as Lou continued.

“You, on the other hand, make a much better example of what being disobedient brings– despite no one caring about you. Unfortunately, you and that Offworld crew do have that in common.”

  Lou leant down, fingering a smiley face I had scraped into the wall beneath the maintenance hole– one meant for me to find my way home. Lou straightened. “You really shouldn’t leave bread crumbs if you don’t want the birds to find you, Evren.” 

  Behind Lou, Rin and Gary jumped out of the maintenance hole, sombre and serious like I had never seen them before. 

  “Look, if this is about the arm–” I stammered out, “I’m sorry–” 

  Above me, Lou tilted his head, seeming to find the words funny, somehow. “You think I came all the way down here for you to say sorry?” He made a clicking sound with his mouth, finally leaning down to look me in the eyes. “Oh, no, silly Offworlder– it is much too late for you to be sorry. And too late for you to disappear again.” 

  I wanted to pull away from the Covienian, but Kan’s hand made it impossible to turn my head without tearing my hair out. Shivering on the grate, the cold metal bit into my knees like the teeth of an outraged creature as I was forced to face the man that could end my life with a word. 

  “That was very clever, hiding for so long– but now it’s time to stop, hm?” 

  “Can’t blame me for t-trying…” I stuttered out in the cold night air, hoping my shivering was the product of temperature, and not panic. 

  No new emotion passed over Lou’s face. “No. I can’t,” he said slowly. 

  “Are you gonna k-kill me?” I struggled out– too scared to wonder if the question had been out of fear or ugly curiosity.    

  Without answering, Lou straightened, examining me while drawing in a quick breath.  After a moment, he walked to where my crate had hit the ground. The lid had popped open. 

  “Kill you?” Lou echoed as he looked down at the small box. “Well, yes, I should, shouldn’t I?”

  Watching the mechshop owner lean down and pick up my belongings, Covien’s cool night breeze found its way under my poncho and chilled my exposed arms. I tried to look at Kan’s expression, but she was standing behind me, her back towards the sheer drop and the rusted stairs. 

  “But killing you…” Lou started, absently looking through things, like lightbulbs, my bag, and the necklace. Finally, he pulled out my precious book. “Well… that’s just not a good story.” 

  With my box tucked under his arm, Lou Koval leant in front of me once more, one knee on the metal grate as Kan forced me to look into his eyes. I didn’t need to touch Lou Koval to feel the anger in him, like imperfect grains of sand mixed in with his deceivingly calm demeanour. 

  He held up the velvety book, its bird-like design glinting in a flashglow’s light as he looked at it thoughtfully. 

“See, you’re like this book: no one will remember it when it’s gone. No one is going to remember the story of the mechscrubber that stole from Kovals and mysteriously disappeared on a wet, miserable, Sixthday night. No one is going to think twice of crossing Lou Keda Koval when they think of you– that’s a bad story.” Lou looked at me, and then back at the book, a small, pensive frown darkening his ashen face. “And Evren? I’ll be honest with you, that’s wasteful.” Looking back at me, the pensive frown became something much more sinister. “And out here in The Fringe, we are not wasteful. You know that by now, don’t you?”

  I focused on breathing. That was all I could do. 

The pain at the back of my skull where Kan held my hair captive felt like the only thing keeping me from bursting into hysteric panic. 

  Lou kept the book– tucking it under one arm– but closed the lid of the crate almost sadly. 

  While Lou looked down, my eyes darted around the walkway, searching for something that could save me, something I might have missed– anything to get me away from this vile man.

Lou straightened, taking a deep breath and interrupting my search for a miracle. The small crate hit the grate in front of me in a loud bang. He took a step back, inclining his head to Kan.

  “Let her go,” he said lightly.

  Kan released me, and I fell onto my crate. With shaking hands, I drew it closer to me, clutching it to my chest as I looked up at Lou fearfully. The throb in my head was more than the pain of being thrown around– it was my heartbeat, fast and wild as I stared into eyes as black as the void itself. I felt like I was watching a dark, spindly spider on a wall, breathless as I prayed it wouldn't lunge at me the moment I looked away. 

  Lou gestured to the box. 

  “Go ahead. Open it up.” 

  I dared not look at the crate. As soon as I did what he wanted me to, I felt I would be crossing some kind of invisible threshold– almost like complying was somehow sanctioning his demands. Some very stupid part of me thought it best to pretend I didn’t hear him while staring straight into his eyes. 

  After tolerating five seconds of my still, frozen disobedience, Lou frowned, nodding to Kan. She let go of my hair.

  Only, a second after, something sharp and heavy hit the side of my skull. I winced, looking down and biting my lip as pain seared through my brain and into my thoughts. I tried to blink, tried to stay straight and unrelenting, but I couldn’t stop the hand I put up instinctively to where Kan had hit me. 

  Illogical betrayal burnt like acid near the quickly forming bruise. 

  “Evren,” Lou said as I touched my head deftly, tones of reprimand heavy in his calm voice. “Think really hard. Since when has not listening made your life any easier? Hm?” 

  With a swallow that felt like my last gulp of air, I took the lid off my crate unsteadily and looked in. 

  The little figurine stared back at me expressionlessly, orb-like eyes holding as little life as Lou Koval. Some help you were. 

  “Now, that’s better,” Lou said above me. 

  As I stared at my crate, I could hear the heavy breathing of Rin and Gary, and feel their unsure glances at the Head Mechanic behind me. It appeared that I was not the only one who didn’t know what was going to happen next. 

  Lou took a step towards the ledge, sifting through the pages of my precious book. A thick, and heavy kind of anger boiled up inside my lungs. He didn't deserve to touch those pages. 

  “Evren, do you want to know my favourite story? My story?” the mechshop owner asked as he absently glanced over words I had struggled to read for Phases. 

  Across the walkway, I locked eyes with Gary. His nose had turned from red to purple, and it really did look terrible. He shifted, eyes darting to his employer nervously. 

  I cleared my throat. “No,” I said shakily. 

  “No, you wouldn’t,” Lou said sadly, still looking at the book. “No one ever does, but after hearing it,” – he turned around, the book still open– “everyone always seems to remember it. That’s the nature of a good story.” 

Behind me, Kan shifted. I wanted to put my hand on her boot and feel what she was feeling, but under Lou’s careful gaze, I dared not move an inch I was not told to. 

  “Your story is a lot like mine, and Kan’s, also–” Lou didn’t look at her when he mentioned her name, as if the young woman wasn't there. He just kept on looking at me with his spider eyes– kept flicking through the pages of my book. “She was stupid and young, and pathetic, too. As was I… With only a collection of random, value-less things to my name.”

   With his free hand, Lou gestured to my crate. “Not unlike what you have there… but I didn’t get to be who I am by being stupid, and stealing things from mechshops; I got to where I am right now because I understood value. I understood that simple objects and tools, they stand for things far greater than what they are.” Lou’s eye’s flicked down to the poster I had rolled up in my crate. 

“A poster is not just a piece of paper in a box; it’s a dream that will one day come true. A mechshop across the settlement is not just a shop– it’s a threat.” He looked back at me. “An arm is not merely an arm. A Lightcore is not just a Lightcore. A mechscrubber is not just a mechscrubber… And stories are not just stories, Evren.”

  Lou closed the book suddenly, looking at the faded golden bird on its cover. Behind him, I could see the damp backdrop of the Hollow Wastes, and the disappearing end of the Liskian ranges as he continued.

“You see, everything has a meaning in my shop. No matter how small, it still holds some kind of value– like you, and that Bot arm you stole. When I was your age, instead of stealing things, I studied them. I learnt to write good stories. Stories holding value. Some of them, lesser than others, but all of them had the same meaning: people who don’t listen–” 

  Lou lifted his arm suddenly, and the book in his hands sailed over his head and off the walkway– gone into the void of darkness below. 

“–disappear.” 

  “No!” I made a move to lunge for the railing, but Kan kept me in place like a vice. 

  Taking a step towards me, Lou leant down again. “And you got to where you are, because you just don’t listen, Evren.”

I bit the inside of my cheek as Lou studied my expression. My stomach curled at the thought of him realising how the fear inside me was all because of him. I didn’t look away as his dark eyes tried to force mine to break contact. 

  “How about you take out what you think is the most valuable thing in that box?” Lou asked me. 

  More than anything, I want to look at the ticket, which I knew was nestled next to my necklace. I kept on looking at Lou. 

  “Nothing I have can replace what I stole,” I answered, hoping beyond all reason that he might realise that and give up, or go home. 

  Lou did not give up. 

  He smiled. 

  “It’s sad, really, how you go around assuming everyone is just as stupid as you are.” 

  My eyes finally fell to the ticket, willing it to teleport away, somewhere safe where it could glow and flicker all it wanted– somewhere out of Lou Koval’s reach– but there was no such luck. 

  Before Kan could hit me again, I moved my left hand, reaching into the box and taking the ticket out.

  Usually, my thoughts screamed at me when I was doing something I didn’t want to.

Normally, there would be conflict– terrible, terrible shouting, and so many voices telling me to stop. 

  But it was dead quiet as I handed my ticket to Lou Koval, with a shaking hand and a quickened heartbeat.

  Lou nodded, taking it.

“See, as dense as you might appear, you learn quickly. That’s why I liked you. This ticket is actually very valuable now that Gray Raven has seized all tickets sales for offworld passage." Lou shook his head, studying the little numbers on its surface. “Now, we wouldn’t want you running away off of Covien would we? That would not make a very good story. Me and you? We’re going to write a better story. One that has value. One that means something. One that demonstrates exactly what happens to thieves.” 

  Lou sighed, nodding to the dark-skinned mechanic next to Gary. “Here, Rin. Take this.” 

  Hesitantly, Rin walked up, taking the ticket from him. 

Lou nodded to the edge of the walkway.

“Get rid of it.” 

 Kan struggled a little more to keep me in place.

“No, you can’t!" I cried. "You don’t understand why I need to get offworld–” I tried to get to my feet, but Kan grabbed my hair once more.

   “Please don’t do this!” I pleaded to Rin, trying to find sympathy in her sand-coloured eyes. “Please, don't. I know I stole the arm, and I’m sorry– trust me I am so, so sorry, but I won’t do it again, I promise! Take everything I have, but don’t take that– I’m begging you–” 

  The teal glow of the ticket made Rin’s charcoal hands seem to glow green as she looked down at it. The drip-drip-drip of the water around us sliding off brackets and landing in concrete drains interrupted her short, heavy silence. Finally, she swallowed, and walked up to the ledge.

The Hollow Waste looked on as I continued to plead with her. “Please! Rin, please, don’t do this!” 

  Lou’s gaze snapped to me sharply. “Make her quiet.” 

  Another blow to my head. I felt dizzy this time– so dizzy I nearly missed Rin blowing out a shaky breath and putting her hand above the railing.

   I wanted to shut my eyes– I didn’t want to see– but something just as cruel and cold as the ancient concrete around me forced me to watch the faint glow of my freedom leave the ramp, falling endlessly into the Hollow Wastes. Like some kind of sacrifice, the ticket disappeared into the Lisk’s hungry altar of darkness and mist. 

  I couldn’t see. I couldn’t move. I could hardly even breathe. 

With her back turned to me, Rin dropped her hand to her side, turning mechanically to step behind her employer. Tears came fully now, and blurred up my vision. “You… you monsters!” I yelled at them. “That was everything I had!”

  Lou on the other hand, had not watched the ticket disappear. He had watched me, and he still was– dark, evil eyes seeming to enjoy the anguish as I stared at the space the ticket had been a moment before. 

  Lou sighed, clasping his hands together. “So, now that we’ve made sure you can’t run away and take your story with you– it’s time for you to pay back what you stole.” 

  Lou looked over at Kan, who still kept me captive on the walkway. “Remind me, what was it that she stole, Oh’Krean?” 

  Kan didn’t speak for a moment. I could hear her hold her breath, but eventually she answered.

  “An arm.”

  Lou’s gaze fell back down to me, a hint of a smile on his face. “Well, that sounds fair. If that’s what she stole, that’s what we’ll take.” He glanced at his Head Mechanic. “Stand her up, please.” 

  Heavy and solid, a weight sank into my gut as I was forced to my feet. The agony I felt over my lost ticket disappeared, and a new feeling emerged.

   Horror. 

  “You’re… you’re…gonna what? I stole– a hand? You're gonna take the-the-the–” Words came to my mouth in starts and stops. Suddenly, pain wasn’t enough to keep me from hysteria. “What?” I yelled, sure that I had somehow misunderstood the mechshop owner. 

  Lou gestured to the railing casually, and I was forced against it as Kan levered my left arm behind me, much like the Scavengers that had pushed me into Rusty’s tables, all those days ago. 

  Except now my head wasn’t pressed into a table, it was the railing, and I think that this time something much worse was going to happen– and Web wasn’t here to save me. 

  Lou was frowning at me as Kan pushed me down. 

“You’re not listening, girl,” he said, subtle tones of anger bleeding through his calm tone. “You need to tell a story for me. If people hear that you stole something of mine,  and walked away Flirin-free, my story would lose its value. And that’s not something I’m going to let happen.”  

  Lou Koval turned around, holding out his hand. “Gary, your particle knife, if you will.” 

  Behind Lou, Gary seemed distressed but silent as he reached into a pocket on his belt. 

  My eyes couldn’t leave Lou’s head as I struggled against Kan’s weakening grip.

“Herus Koval, please– I’ll never steal anything again, I promise! I won’t talk bad about you, and I’ll tell everyone that they shouldn’t steal things from you, I-I promise!” I sounded hysteric, and crazy, and borderline insane– but I had to at least try to reason with him. “Please, don’t do this– I-I need my hand!”

  Lou tilted his head. “Don't you think you should've thought of that before you stole one of mine?” 

  Gary didn’t look at me as he handed Lou a small device that looked merely like an underweight ripple charger. A see-through skeletal frame attached to where a blade should have been, and when Lou ignited the device, hot, pink light emanated from the hilt and pulsed up the blade’s frame, electrifying it and sending it humming. It looked like a very hot, very dangerous, slightly possessed leaf– only with a 100% higher chance of cutting my hand off.  

  The knife simultaneously quieted something in me, and awoke it. 

  The pressure of my left arm being held in Kan’s unyielding grip– the panic of the last five minutes– the pain that wouldn’t go away in my head– it all avalanched down into a feeling that had been building and dissipating, unforming, and yet somehow growing. 

  The electricity that sparked the knife– Gary’s flashglow– they felt like hot needles in my skin. 

Wide-eyed, I stared at the knife, panic finally ebbing into realisation, and then realisation into pure disbelief.  

“That wouldn’t be for cutting bread, would it?” I asked through gritted teeth. My head felt hot now. 

Searing, angry particle knife in one hand, Lou turned to me. “No. But it will cauterise, so no need to worry about infection, Offworlder." 

  “Well, how kind of you,” I forced out angrily. Oh gods, I felt ill. 

   He nodded to Kan, ignoring me. 

  “Right hand, please. On the railing.” 

  Kan’s grip left my head, but I fought her as she reached for my arm, smacking her hand away with my right one. 

  “Leave me alone–” I breathed out, blinking away beads of sweat in my eyes. I felt really hot. 

  “Remember what I said, Evren,” Kan said behind me sharply. “You can live, if you listen–” 

  “I don’t want to listen– Let me go!” Another flashglow shone on me, blinding me, almost seeming to suffocate me. I wanted them to go away! I wanted them all to go away– I wanted the light to stop– the cold to stop– Everything! It was too much.

  My left shoulder socket felt like it was on fire as Kan forced me back against the railing, her voice pained. “Don’t fight this, Evren. You’ll only make this harder.” 

  I felt more than saw Lou Koval’s eyes on me, watching his mechanics struggle, watching his story play out. I locked eyes with him, feeling the heat of the electricity in the air as it struggled into my head and made my next thought contrast and clear. 

  Six months, starving in an alley, I thought to myself, just to be punished for a crime that wasn’t a crime. 

  My face darkened.

  In the alley, I could hear Smiley start to laugh. 

  “Gary?” Lou asked, still looking at me. “Help our reluctant mechscrubber. She seems to have misplaced another arm.” 

  A moment later, another pair of hands gripped my shoulders.

My eyes flicked down to the metal of the hand-railing. As Kan released my left arm to secure my right one, I used every morsel of strength I had to slam my shoulder into the railing, and Gary cried out in pain as his fingers cracked against the metal of the walkway.

I pushed out of his grasp, but only made it a metre before Kan grabbed my poncho. Something told me to tuck my chin in, just as Kan pulled back on the fabric to keep me from running; all she did was pull it from my shoulders, and I slipped out.

  The pain that buzzed inside my head was turning into the sound of Gary’s particle knife. A hot, fuzzy kind of feeling spread across my tongue, down my throat– setting my teeth on edge like they had just scraped across a chalkboard.  

Faster than Cimmi’s orbit, I scrambled towards my crate. I only made it a breath before whipping around to face Kan, who was only a step behind me– whose anger I could feel, like it was steam from a vent: oppressive, violent, dangerous. 

  My hand extended before the thought had crossed my brain to push her away, but I realised too late that it had not been Kan behind me– it had been Lou Koval, and he was about to grab my wrist, the particle knife swinging down in his other hand. 

I was seconds away from losing a limb– I had no instinct to act on, so I did the next best thing. 

  Palm facing, my hand met his ribcage. 

The particle knife went out. 

  The pain in my arm, my head, and my bones, left faster than a lightning bolt. A loud snap  of electricity crackled through the air, and the next thing I knew Lou Koval was on the ground, flung back like some three-metre-tall monster had smacked him off his feet. 

  I took a step back, bumping into my crate numbly. Ribbons of light encircled my right hand, hugging close to the scars.

Shaking– my entire arm was shaking so badly. 

It felt like my brain was shaking, too. I also felt like my soul was shaking, just for the hell of it. I wanted to fall to my knees– I wanted to sleep. Suddenly, I was exhausted, but my weariness gave way to confusion as I watched the light encircling my scarred hand disappear. 

   I looked up from my fingers, and found Kan’s gaze.

Rin and Gary were frozen in horrified shock. They blinked strangely– like me, I’m sure they didn’t know what the hell just happened. 

  Between me and them lay Lou Koval and his mildly smoking clothes. He groaned, shifting slightly– but he did not try to rise. 

  I took another step back, gaze switching from the unconscious mechshop owner to his three frozen employees. 

  The lack of words the mechanics didn't say started to get longer, and heavier, and finally, Kan looked up from Lou’s form, eyes tracing the scars on my hand. 

  “What in the Voidmother's good universe…” Kan breathed out, eyes wide and her one Tironian ear twitching in fear. Her gaze flicked to my neck, where thick, ugly scars also curled up my collar bone. 

  At some point I must have picked up my crate, because I was clutching it to my chest, taking small steps back as I watched fearfully for the mechanics to pull out another knife, or a Pulser to shoot me with. 

  Kan took a step forward, poncho still in hand. She was scared, and she knew it, but she was still coming closer. “What did you do?” the mixling demanded.

  Another step back. “Just-just stay away!” 

  Kan froze, looking down at the poncho in her hand as clouds above blocked out what little light the moons were giving. Somewhere across the Hollow Wastes, thunder echoed from the heavens. It was about to rain again. 

"Wait. No… it can’t… ” She looked up at me. “Where did you get this?”

  I shook my head. She couldn’t know, not if I wanted to keep Web safe.

“I said stay away–” 

  Gary shifted behind Kan, his tone hollow and pained as he clutched his fingers. “Forget the poncho, Kan– what the hell just happened to Lou?!”

  Rin moved beside him; she couldn’t take her eyes off the downed Covienian.

Small, little drops of rain starting falling.

  My bare feet felt the edge of the walkway. I didn’t want to think about what I knew I was going to do. 

  It’s the ledge or Gray Raven, I could hear Smiley say. 

  It’s the fall, or capture. 

  The unknown– or something worse.

  Kan’s eyes flicked down to the Scavengers poncho in her hand once more, then to me. Her voice was almost too quiet to hear.

“Where do you get this?” 

  Don’t tell her. Smiley, again.

  When I said nothing, Kan repeated the question, angrier this time. “Evren, where did you get this?!” 

  “Just– just stay back!” I demanded shakily, unsure of the fear and anger I felt rising in the mixling. 

  They’ll hurt you. 

  “They say there was a survivor– from the storm…” Kan looked up, her grip tightening around the fabric, wet knuckles turning bone-white.

   “Gray Raven. You’re why they're here.” 

  The words broke a thought inside me– or maybe they formed one. I straightened, shaking my head. Looked at the platform below the maintenance walkway with a nervous swallow. Three metres. I looked up at the heavens, another storm starting. 

  I had fallen from worse. 

  The mixling saw the action. “Wait, don’t–” 

  I turned my back on her and stepped off the walkway. 

  When I hit the platform, I didn’t feel the impact, only the end– only the abrupt stop and the metal. I felt my right arm against steel, and the hot sensation of skin being torn into.

  I bit my lip. I couldn’t cry out. I couldn't breathe. I couldn’t do anything. 

  Above me, Kan shouted my name. 

  Only I didn’t hear her voice, only Smiley’s. 

  Run. 

  I jerked clumsily to my feet with my crate, and I listened to the voice. 

  I ran.