“Do not…fear,” he said, panting with the effort. “Your air is…thick. We will not harm…world. We desire…to reclaim what is ours.”

“What is yours?” I asked.

“This ship.”

That was the last thing I expected. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. Your…ancestors stole it. Exiled us.”

I noted his use of the word exile. Of course, it could have a wide range or meanings. “How do you know? As you said, our air is thicker than yours.”

“We have…records. We had to…ration air so long…we are used to it. The air mixture is easy to alter. We’ll find a…common setting. Good for all.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“You are leader,” Ponife said.

I touched the collar. “Not a good one.”

“Work with us. You will have…chance to repair damage.”

I doubted it would be that easy. “Why did they exile you?”

His demeanor changed in an instant. Wrong question.

“Impertinent child.” Ponife twisted the X.

When I came to my senses, Ponife was gone. In his place was a tray of food and a glass of water. My throat burned so I gulped down the water. Then I attacked the food. Only after I had consumed most of it did I consider the danger. I shrugged. They didn’t need poison or drugs. A couple more sessions with the collar and I would do anything for them.

I considered Ponife’s comments, trying to list reasons for banishing a person. It would also depend if the Insiders at the time knew about the extra space or not. We hadn’t recycled the Travas, but if we didn’t know about the Expanse I was sure we’d have had to in order to make room for all of us. Maybe instead of recycling the trouble makers, our ancestors put them into a Bubble Monster and sent them on their way. Was that better or worse than being recycled? Given the choice, I would rather take my chances in Outer Space in a Bubble than be Chomper’s dinner.

Eventually, I fell into an exhausted sleep.

A rasping sound woke me. Disorientated, I blinked in the daylights as the shushing grew louder. Deep down, I recognized the noise, but my brain hadn’t quite connected it.

After a few more seconds, I jumped to my feet. Climbing up to the air vent, I peered inside. Zippy had come!

I rattled the bars over the vent, but they wouldn’t budge. Riley would guess I was stuck. Otherwise, I would have escaped by now. I searched with my fingers and found a cloth bag tied to Zippy. Good boy.

Pulling the bag through the bars, I carried my treasure back to the mat. Funny how the smallest things became so important when you’ve been reduced to utter helplessness.

I upended the bag. A microphone and receiver tumbled out along with a diamond wire. Inserting the receiver in my earlobe, I turned on the mic.

“Anyone listening?” I asked, trying not to sound pathetic, but strain shook my words, giving me away.

“Trella!” Riley’s relieved voice reached me.

I collapsed back onto the mat. This was the first thing to go my way in a long time.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

Worried about Hank detecting the transmission, I explained about the new control room and the Outsiders as fast as I could.

After I finished, Riley asked me a few questions. Then he said, “Get out of there, and meet me at—”

“I can’t. They have a…tracer on me.”

“Can you cut it out? I could send a scalpel.”

“No. It’s around my neck.” I gave him a basic rundown on all the wonders of the command collar.

He responded with an extended period of silence.

Unable to endure another minute, I said, “Don’t be upset. I tried to run away, but Hank—”

“Trell, I’m not mad—well, not at you. I’m going to throttle both Hank and Bubba Boom and feed them to Chomper myself.” He paused. “I’m thinking of a way for you to escape. You could use Zippy’s short range EMP to disable it.”

“I thought that only worked on weapons.”

“Logan had to limit what the pulse could affect because of all the sensitive equipment and computers back when you ambushed the main Control Room. But you’re far away from anything vital right now. Actually, if Zippy was stronger and if we had our network in place, he could have taken out Hank’s new control room.”

“How do I switch him over?” I asked.

Riley told me how to remove the safety filter.

“How can I tell if it works on the collar?”

“You escape, hide and wait. If it’s operating, they’ll find you pretty quick. But the pulse will ruin your microphone and receiver. If they don’t come after you, meet me in our storeroom.”

“Sounds like a plan. Thanks for the help.” Before Riley could switch off, I said, “If this doesn’t work, I just want to tell you that…” I closed my eyes. Why was this so hard? “That…I was an idiot to keep my distance from you. That I didn’t realize how much I love you until I lost you.”

“You’ll get free, Trella.” Riley’s voice sounded tight. “You’ve survived worse than this. And this time you have more motivation.”

“More motivation?”

“Yes. I’m not going to respond to your comment through a microphone. You’ll have to hear it from me in person.”

After Riley clicked off, I used the diamond wire to saw through the bars over the air vent. I hoped Ponife didn’t check my vitals because my accelerated heart rate would alert him. Once I had enough space to wiggle through, I pulled Zippy from the shaft and removed the safety filter.