Riley’s gun jerked back and forth, shaking him like a toy. Mine belched. The screwdriver shot out and dented the far wall. Only Sloan had success.

“Take out the rest,” I called to Sloan as Riley flew off his. “Before they…”

Too late. The hatch opened. Cold horror froze the sweat on my skin as one then four then seven suited and armed Outsiders poured from the ship. I checked the air pressure gauge that hung on my belt. There still wasn’t enough air for us to shed the space suits. It would have given us a small advantage.

I pulled my knife. The others followed my example except Bubba Boom. He hadn’t moved, but I didn’t have time to worry about him right now.

The Outsiders fanned out, trying to surround us. They held those long tubes Bubba Boom had warned us about.

“Get behind something,” Riley called.

I ducked behind one of the transport’s legs, feeling too big for the first time in my life. Sloan finished bashing the last gun, but it was four against twelve.

“Trella, I admire your tenacity,” Ponife said. His voice echoed from a speaker inside the collar of the helmet. “However, it is time to stop. Surrender and I will allow your cohorts to join the other survivors.”

“No,” Riley said.

“It would be unwise to trust them,” Logan said.

“Thanks for the advice, Logan. Tell me something I didn’t know,” I snapped. Putting my knife on the floor, I glanced around, searching for a way to escape. “This stinks, but I don’t think we have a choice. Too bad we didn’t get to the hatch in time.”

I walked to the hatch and almost laughed when six Outsiders followed me. Tenacious I may be, and stubborn and maybe even a bit reckless, but I never would consider myself dangerous enough to need six escorts.

We entered the ship. The room was similar to Gateway with another door and a control panel. As the hatch closed behind us, I hoped Riley and the others had gotten my hint. One of the Outsiders punched a few buttons. I repeated the sequence aloud.

Ponife chuckled drily. “Your friends are in custody. No one is left to help you.”

This was the second time he had claimed I was alone and helpless. It didn’t go as he had expected the first time; you’d think he’d learn by now. Or I would. Fear still pulsed through my body.

After a hissing noise vibrated through my suit, the other door opened and we were in an area that resembled a changing room, with empty suits hanging on hooks and shelves full of helmets and gloves.

“Keep your helmet on,” Ponife ordered. “We have no plans to kill you.”

“I feel so much better,” I said.

They removed their helmets.

Ponife had perfected his superior expression. “You should be happy. Your mother and friends will all be members of our new combined community.”

“Is she here?” I asked.

“No. She is with the others. Only you will stay with us until our world below is…cleaned.”

“Cleaned? Why don’t you call it what it is? It’s genocide.”

“Because that would be technically inaccurate.”

“That shouldn’t bother you since you’ve gotten a bunch of stuff wrong already.”

“Trivial issues, causing only minor delays.”

“I’m glad you can put a positive spin on what I’d call stupid mistakes.”

Ponife took the bait. “For example…?”

“You assumed that knife was my only weapon.” I pulled the last bomb from my pocket and yanked the pin out.

Rolling it along the floor, I dodged a few Outsiders until one aimed his gun at me and pulled the trigger. One disk clipped my right shoulder, slicing through the suit, my skin and muscles. Fire burned as I lost the use of my right arm in an instant. The air inside my suit leaked through the rip with a high-pitched whistle.

When nothing more happened—damn, a real dud this time—Ponife asked, “Is that it? Do you have anything else?” He yanked me to my feet and took off my tool belt. He strode to one of the cabinets and rummaged. Returning, he slapped a white patch over the hole in my suit.

Pain from the slap mixed with amazement. “Why did you save me?” I asked him.

“I told you before—”

“No plans to kill me. But you said ‘we’ and he…” I pointed with my left hand to the one who still clutched his gun. “He didn’t hesitate. Are you sure your plans match the others’? Because that particular idea is another mistake.” I wasn’t being suicidal, really. My will to live throbbed in my heart; I was just hoping to sow a little dissension among the Outsiders.

They glanced at each other until Ponife growled at them to stop. Then an ear-aching alarm sounded. Surprised, their focus shifted to the hatch. I was the only person to see the glass ball flash.

Once again, I flattened my body to the floor. Glass shards pelted my right side as a wave of energy rolled me over to my back. I stared at the ceiling, silently thanking Ivie and Kadar.

“Trella, quit napping while we do all the work.” Logan’s voice filled my helmet.

Riley’s face blocked my view. “Are you hurt?” he asked.

“Nothing Lamont can’t fix,” I said, groaning as I ambled to my feet. Ponife and the other Outsiders had been stunned by the bomb. “How did you two get in here?”

Logan gestured to Riley. “His knife. Sloan’s wrench. Bubba Boom’s surprise recovery. And my genius.” Then he muttered, “And your help with the code.”