walk off this ship?’
Five raises an eyebrow at me. I notice that he’s not wearing any shoes or socks, probably so his
bare feet are in constant contact with the metal paneling of the Anubis. Also, attached to his forearm is some kind of contraption that looks like it might be a weapon.
‘They won’t be able to stop me,’ Five says, a dark confidence in his voice. It isn’t exactly
inspiring, but it’s the best hope I’ve got.
‘Okay, lead the way.’
The door to my room slides open for Five. He pokes his head out, checking to see that the coast is
clear. When he’s satisfied, Five hustles into the hallway, motioning for me to follow. We navigate the labyrinthine halls of the Anubis at a brisk walk.
‘Just act normal,’ Five tells me, keeping his voice low. ‘He’s got scouts watching us, always. But
they’re also afraid of us. You, in particular, are supposed to be treated like royalty. They won’t
interfere if we don’t look suspicious. And, even if they do think something’s wrong, by the time one of them actually works up the guts to tell Beloved Leader, we’ll be gone …’
He’s talking a lot. That tells me that he’s nervous. Without thinking about it – because if I actually thought about it, I might get too repulsed – I reach out and take Five’s hand.
‘We’re just a newly betrothed couple, getting to know each other,’ I say. ‘Enjoying a nice walk
through the cozy halls of a massive warship.’
Five’s hand is sweaty and cold. He tries to jerk away from me, his initial instinct not to be touched, but after a moment he calms down and lets his dead-fish hand be held.
‘Betrothed?’ he grunts. ‘He wants us to get married?’
‘That’s what Setrákus Ra said.’
‘He says a lot of things.’ Five’s face is red, the blush traveling all the way up into his scalp. I’m
not sure if he’s embarrassed or angry or some combination of the two. ‘I didn’t agree to that. You’re a child.’
‘Um, obviously I didn’t agree either. You’re a gross, murdering, weirdo –’
‘Shut up,’ Five hisses, and for a second I think that I’ve actually offended him. But then I realize
we’re passing by the open entranceway of the observation deck.
I can’t help but slow my steps as we sneak by. The empty darkness of space I’d gotten used to has
been replaced by the familiar, bright-blue atmosphere of Earth. The Anubis is still making its descent, but already the outline of civilization is visible, roads boxing up green fields, tiny houses arranged into perfect suburbs. Dozens of Mogadorians have gathered to watch Earth approach, an excited
energy in the air as they whisper to one another, probably talking about which swath of land they’ll
pillage first.
Five leads me around the next corner and crashes right into two Mog warriors who were jogging
towards the observation deck. The nearest one lifts a corner of his mouth in a disdainful sneer, eyeing us.
‘What are you two doing?’ the Mog asks.
In response, I draw myself up, trying to look as regal as possible. I fix the overcurious Mog with a
cold stare. The Mog’s sneer quickly fades as he remembers himself – or, more likely, remembers that
I’m not just some Lorien but the blood of his Beloved Leader – and he looks down at the floor. He
begins to mutter something apologetic when a metallic shink cuts him off.
A needlelike blade extends from the leather contraption on Five’s forearm. In a blur, Five drives
the blade right through the first Mog’s forehead, instantly turning him to ash. The other Mog’s eyes
widen in panic and he tries to run. A delighted grin spreads across Five’s face. Before the Mog can
get even a few steps down the hall, Five’s non-blade arm takes on a rubbery consistency and stretches
after him. Five’s arm snakes around the Mog’s neck and then yanks him backwards so Five can finish
him off with his blade.
The whole thing is over in about ten seconds.
‘We were supposed to be acting normal,’ I say to Five in a loud whisper, mindful that we’re not all
that far from the crowded observation room.
Five blinks at me, almost like he’s not sure what just came over him. Carefully, he presses the
blade back into its holster.
‘I lost my cool, okay?’ Five anxiously rubs his hand across the stubble on top of his head. ‘It
doesn’t matter now. We’re almost there.’
I stare at this unhinged monster standing in front of me. He gulps down a few deep breaths, his
shoulders shaking, fists balled from the excitement. Minutes ago, he sounded almost fragile, rambling
in the darkness of my room. He’s broken, a total mess – I have to remind myself that he murdered
Eight in order to squelch the swelling of sympathy I feel for him. Sympathy, yes, but also fear. He
flew off the handle with zero provocation, and almost seemed happy killing those Mogs.
This screwed-up, violent, cowardly traitor is my only real hope of getting off the Anubis.
I shake my head. ‘Let’s go,’ I sigh.
Five nods and we jog on, tossing out the whole hand-holding thing, and just careening towards our
destination. As we run, I notice Five clenching and unclenching his hands. They’re both empty.
‘How’d you do that with your arm?’ I ask him, thinking about those rubber and steel balls he used
to change his skin in the Lecture Hall. ‘I thought you needed to be touching something …’
Five turns his head so his good eye is on me. He touches the fresh bandage over his face.
‘Losing an eye gave me some new, uh … storage possibilities,’ he says.
‘Ugh,’ I reply, grossed out as I picture the rubber ball shoved into Five’s eye socket. ‘How’d you
lose it, anyway?’
‘Marina,’ he answers, simply, no malice in his voice. ‘I had it coming.’
‘I’m sure.’
We round the next corner, and the hallway opens up, the ceiling rising as we enter the huge docking
bay. I can see crisp, blue sky through the portholes, sunlight pouring across the dozens of docked
Mogadorian scout vessels. Other than the ships, the docking bay is empty. The mechanics and crew
must be on the observatory deck, gazing out upon the world they plan to conquer.
We’re so close.
‘Hold on,’ I say. ‘If we open the airlock, are we going to be sucked out right away?’
‘We’re in the atmosphere now, not space,’ Five says impatiently. He leans over a nearby console,
studying the interface. ‘It’ll be windy. You’re not going to chicken out, are you?’
‘No,’ I say, looking around the docking bay. ‘Do you think we could blow some of this stuff up?
Maybe bring down the Anubis before it has a chance to do anything?’
Five turns to me, looking slightly impressed. ‘You have any explosive Legacies?’
‘No.’
‘Me neither. Know how to make a bomb?’
‘Uh, no.’
‘Then we’re going to have to settle for escaping,’ Five says. Five hits a button on the console and a
thick metal door thuds into place behind us. It’s the airlock – sturdy enough to keep the ship safe from the vacuum of space. It effectively seals us off from the rest of the ship.
‘That’ll slow them down,’ Five says, referring to pursuers we don’t yet have.
‘Good thinking,’ I admit as I peer through the small window on the airlock, expecting to see Mogs
chasing us down at any moment.
Five taps out a few more keystrokes and, with a hydraulic whine and a gust of chilled air, the
docking-bay doors at the far end of the room open up. The wind pulls at me and I let out a deep,