I focus on my aching muscles as I run. I’m trying not to think about Molly; I’m trying not to imagine him at gunpoint, still refusing to tell McBride where I am.

My eyes water from some mix of grief and cold air, and I lift a hand to dash the sparks of moisture away. I can hear Flynn half a step behind me—when I speed up, he speeds up with me. A couple of weeks ago I would’ve been surprised he could keep up. Not anymore. I never thought life in the swamps was a picnic, but I didn’t know how closely his training—because it was training, even if he wasn’t in uniform—resembled mine.

Our route takes us past the mess hall. What looks like half the civilian population of the base is in there, the long line snaking around between tables and benches. A couple of uniforms make their way along the line, and in anticipation the civilians are rolling up their sleeves to offer up their ’tags for scanning. Security only caught one of the perpetrators at Molly’s. Everyone else who’s not military has to prove they’re supposed to be here.

The launch bay is a series of long, low, massive hangars that only stretch to two stories aboveground but drop underground to hold all the vehicles, military and civilian alike, associated with the base and the town. One of the curved roofs is open, a sign that a craft’s about to take off—or just did.

We skid to a halt outside the door, and I turn to Flynn. “Okay. Remember your cover story as Molly’s cousin. You’ve got every right to be here. Act like you’re thinking of leaving Avon now that Molly’s—” My voice cracks, and over the tangle of emotions rising in me, I choose anger. It’s easier to deal with. “Now that Molly’s gone. That should delay them scanning you awhile.”

He nods. “Got it. Where do I go once you’re shuttling Merendsen away?”

I’m still catching my breath. “You hide. Maybe in my quarters, if they don’t search the base. I don’t know where you go after that—back out into the swamp again. I don’t know.”

I don’t know. Some of my least favorite words in the galaxy, and I’ve been saying them a lot lately.

The launch bay’s always busy, but today it’s absolute chaos. Flynn joins a group of civilians milling about in the passenger area, blending in like he was born to, and I resist the urge to look back at him as I head toward one of the traffic controllers, a short middle-aged man I recognize. There’s an engine warming up nearby and I’m forced to shout.

“Merendsen?” I holler, leaning close. “The guy from TerraDyn here to evaluate security?”

The controller peers past me, then throws a gesture in the direction of a shuttle four or five down from me. “Better hurry—everyone’s taking off soon.”

I catch Flynn’s eye back in the crowd, signal my destination, and then head toward a group of uniformed officers near the shuttle. Merendsen’s there—I breathe a sigh of relief when I see his familiar features.

He spots me and pulls away from the officer shaking his hand in order to come toward me. “Captain,” he calls, tension in his voice. I catch sight of Flynn, who’s headed up to us at a jog.

“Hey,” he calls loudly, offering his hand to shake. “Sorry you’re headed out.”

Merendsen claps his palm to Flynn’s. But when he speaks, his voice is pitched lower, barely audible to me over the engines all around us. “I’ve heard from Lilac. It’s a message. She couldn’t risk a verbal transmission, but she got some text through. We have a code, whenever we can’t speak face-to-face. I’ve decoded it for you, here.” He shoves a crumpled piece of paper into my palm. “Read it when you’re alone.”

“Sir,” I manage, trying to look casual while keeping an eye on the military personnel swarming around the various shuttles. At the far end of the hangar, one takes off upward with a roar, the noise providing perfect cover for our voices. “Thank you.”

His gaze fixes on mine, his voice low. “Lee, listen to me. These creatures LaRoux is using, they aren’t bad themselves. But if he’s found a way to compel them, then I don’t know what he might be capable of. Just—be careful. Please.”

I know what he’s trying to say. Don’t be rash, don’t rush in. Don’t be Lee-ish. I manage to nod. “I will. I promise.”

“Lilac was right,” he continues, this time glancing at Flynn as well. “You need proof, and you need to create a whole galaxy of witnesses. You need so many eyes on Avon that LaRoux wouldn’t dare touch it. Maybe when you get back, you can search for whatever happened to that facility to the east.”

Before anyone can reply, an air traffic controller jogs up to me. “Time to go, sir, not much time left. Last shuttle out.”

I can see the line of civilians and soldiers alike boarding the shuttle. Most of the soldiers sport visible wounds, but some have the reddened, haunted eyes of those who’ve had their first unnatural dream and are afraid to go back to sleep, for fear of the Fury. There are only a handful of civilians, the lucky few who have family waiting somewhere in the galaxy to take them in. They walk quietly, heads down, as though they don’t want to draw attention to themselves.

Behind them all are half a dozen soldiers forcibly preventing a desperate throng of townspeople, all wanting to get out before they lose their chance. The launch bay officials are herding them back toward the base, for all I know to have their genetags scanned. There’s no way out of this building for Flynn—except on the ship I’m flying.

The control officer’s still issuing me warnings in a tight, quick voice. “Rebels have got surface-to-air missiles now, they got to a supply craft on its way in. Ain’t safe to fly anymore, sir. We’ve got a brief window now, but then that’s it. If you take off now, there’s a good chance you’ll be fine—but you probably won’t be able to come back.”

“For how long?” I ask him.

“Don’t know, sir. Maybe an hour, if the ground teams can recapture the anti-aircraft guns. Maybe not until the war’s over.”

My head jerks up. If I leave now, I might never be able to come back. “What’s happening over there?” I ask, tilting my head at the civilians they’re herding away. I can’t send Flynn off to join them until I know where they’re being taken.

“If they’re not getting on a shuttle, they’re being scanned and having their identities verified, sir.”