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“Looks like some sort of staging area,” Magnolia said. “You check the lockers. I’ll see if I can get this computer online.”

She hurried over to a hologram computer on a desk across the room. Rodger took his time crossing the space. It was about three times the size of the trading post where his parents had their stall. Carrying his rifle at port arms, he looked at the suits first. They were like those the Hell Divers wore, but with larger helmets and thicker padded layers.

He continued to the wall of lockers and used his glove to wipe off the inside of an open door. A faded picture of a man holding a baby was taped to the metal.

Rodger brushed off the dust and smiled. In the background of the photo was a dense green backdrop of trees. The man who had used this locker had once walked through a forest. A real forest, with real, living trees!

Rodger’s smile evaporated as he realized what the photo meant. If this man had once seen a real forest, then this room hadn’t been used in at least two centuries.

Magnolia waved him toward the wall-mounted monitor. Rodger put the picture back where he had found it, and trotted over to her.

She had brushed off the keyboard and was pecking at the sticky keys. A holographic image of the facility shot up over the desk. Rodger checked the entrance to the room with his rifle before turning back to the three-dimensional image of an underground silo beneath the hilltop. The first few layers were passages tucked under dirt and concrete—the same halls Magnolia and Rodger had been combing for the past hour. One of those hallways veered away from the silo and intersected with a staircase and elevator that went to the top of the bunker they had seen from outside. Another staircase went deep underground to a water treatment plant and a generator room.

“That’s the route Weaver took to look for Pipe,” Rodger said.

“Yup, and we’re here.” She pointed to the silo. “ITC Communal Thirteen. What became known as the Hilltop Bastion. Looks like there are ninety-nine floors after all.”

She typed another command, and the hologram readjusted to show only the silo.

“Shit, the place has a swimming pool, tennis court, shooting range, luxury condos, seed bank, farm…”

“And a cryogenics lab,” Rodger said.

Magnolia pointed at a level a few floors below them and unslung her rifle. “Floor eighty-one. We better get moving.”

“Wait,” Rodger said. He bit the inside of his lip as a cool flood of adrenaline rushed through him. Before the jump, he had promised himself he would take the time to give Magnolia the present he had made for her—and to tell her how he really felt. But that was before he realized they were dropping into a facility full of monsters. Andrew was missing and likely dead, and they were almost twenty floors above their goal.

“What is it?” She looked at him quizzically. “Are you okay? You look, um, weird.”

“Yeah, I’m good. It’s just… never mind. Let’s get moving.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, unexpectedly putting a hand on his arm.

For what?”

“For being such a bitch to you. I appreciate you coming down here to look for me. It means a lot.”

“You’re worth dying for a hundred times,” Rodger said.

Magnolia’s smile bloomed behind her visor, and Rodger thought he might have seen a hint of a blush.

She laughed and said, “Just a hundred times?”

“Okay, a million. But after that, you’re on your own.”

She tilted her head toward the exit. “Let’s go before you have to prove it.”

* * * * *

Jordan had been trying to reassure Katrina for the past hour that they were making the right decision, but she wasn’t saying much. Her avoidance of eye contact told him that she was beyond angry. Something inside her had broken, and he didn’t know how to fix it.

“Katrina,” he whispered. “Please, look at me.”

She glanced at him but then looked away.

Jordan’s hands balled into fists. Why wouldn’t she listen to him?

“It’s no longer a question of whether you want to bring this child into this world, Katrina. We have a duty to the human race. We must do everything we can to ensure that this baby is healthy.”

She placed her hand on her stomach and sighed. “I know, but frankly…”

Jordan folded his arms across his chest. “Go on.”

“After the electrical storm knocked out the rudders and we lost Magnolia, I started thinking about just how fragile things are. Things were good for a while, but it never lasts. We haven’t heard anything from the team on the surface, either.”

“I don’t expect we will,” he said.

Katrina’s eyes shot up. “What do you mean by that?”

“The electrical storm is blocking their comms,” Jordan said, catching himself.

“The clock is ticking. For them, for us—for everyone.”

“The clock’s been ticking for two hundred and sixty years, and we’re still up here,” he said.

“Unless Weaver finds something to save us down there, it’s only a matter of time. Because we’re nearing the end, Leon, and I know you know it.”

She massaged her stomach and looked down as if she could see right through to their unborn child.

“We’re one bad storm or a failed crop away from extinction,” she said.

Jordan shook his head. “We’ve survived this long because men and women like me were able to make the hard decisions. Even when we’re not popular—even when the people hate us and every sacrifice we are forced to make takes with it a piece of our own soul, we have a duty to these people. I thought you understood that.”

Katrina finally looked at him for more than a few seconds. There was obvious contempt in her gaze.

Jordan considered telling her everything, but what good would it do? The only way to prove to her she was wrong was by sending Rodger to uncover the cryogenic chambers. He only hoped it didn’t cost the ship too much in the process. Losing Weaver, Andrew, and Rodger on top of Magnolia was an expensive but ultimately necessary way to prove his point. Their only hope of survival was to stay the course.

“It pains me to see you look at me like that, but someone has to be the bad guy on the ship,” he said. “I’m willing to shoulder that burden if it means the survival of my child.”

Our child,” she corrected, sounding as though her thoughts were a million miles from him. Her hand moved ceaselessly, rubbing her belly in circles.

“Life will go on, Katrina,” he said. “You just have to trust me. You’re the only person I truly trust on this ship.”

A knock sounded on the hatch.

“We’ll continue this conversation later.” He kissed her on the cheek and stood up. “It’s open.”

Sergeant Jenkins opened the hatch and stepped inside. “Captain, I’ve got Janet Gardner in custody.”

Jordan could feel Katrina glaring at him, but he kept his eyes on Jenkins.

“Thank you, Sergeant. Bring her to the interrogation room. I’ll deal with her myself.”

As soon as Jenkins was gone, Katrina seemed to snap out of her daze. “You arrested Janga?”

“Yes,” Jordan said. He walked to the hatch and grabbed the handle. “Just trust me. That’s all I’ve ever asked from you.”

Katrina straightened her back and threw up a stiff salute. Her eyes had gone cold and hard, and Jordan felt as though a door had been slammed in his face.

“I’m going to deal with something that Captain Ash should have dealt with years ago,” he said. “In the meantime, you have the bridge, Lieutenant.”

* * * * *

Weaver hated being alone, especially on the surface. The days he had spent trekking across Hades after watching his home crash had broken him. For months after he came aboard the Hive, he had slept each night with the lights on and the door open so he could listen to the voices of the passengers in the hallway.