Chapter 39

As we come around the stern to the starboard

side, we can see the wreckage mentioned in the file—a huge, gaping

hole torn into the hull, cabling like sutures dangling from the

open wound. The rooms beyond are gray, dead, empty. Fifteen people

were killed when this happened, twenty years ago. I wonder if they

were sleeping in these rooms at the time, or if this was part of

the working area of the ship, not living quarters. And what

about the others?my mind whispers. The forty-some people

who started out on this ship and aren’t among the living now? What

happened to them?

Dylan glides past the damage, coming back to

the landing strip, and now I can see it, a patch of cleared land

where the clay is packed down in a long, narrow run. “There,” I

tell him, and he nods, eases the craft down. It shakes around us,

reluctant, and for a moment I think we’re not going to be able to

hold the position, the skids slip in the clay and we’re going to