I don’t know what I’m expecting—people
lining the corridors, maybe, craning their necks to gawk at us. But
there are no people, and the corridors are empty. Our boot
heels echo off the steel with a hollow sound that seems to fill the
whole ship and the place feels deserted, like we’re the only ones
here. “Where is everybody?” Dylan asks. He walks beside me and I
can feel his hand hovering near my back protectively.
Ellington walks ahead, setting a fast pace.
“This part of the ship’s closed off,” he explains, leading us away
from the airlock. The lights around us are dimmed, at half power—I
thought maybe they were simulating evening, but apparently not. “It
takes a lot to keep a ship this size running, as you can imagine,
and we only have two power supplies—one up now, the other
