Sunflower…
A predatory smile tugged at CBG’s mouth as it followed the outer corridor of the oval hall down to the lower level. Ahead, a door leaked a faint, stubborn light.
“Stop hiding,” CBG called, stopping in front of it. “Come out. I won’t hurt you.”
No answer.
It grasped the handle and pushed.
Unlocked.
The door had barely cracked open when something dropped from above. CBG caught it on reflex.
“BOOM!”
It didn’t even register what it was before it detonated in its hand. The right arm it had just regenerated was blown off at the elbow, reduced to shredded fragments. The blast slammed it onto its back and washed its vision white.
Through the glare, a cold slash of light came for its throat. It raised its left hand to block—
and the hand was severed instantly.
“Hah—!”
The attacker shouted in exhilaration at the sight of both arms disabled, then swung again, and again—each cut aimed for CBG’s neck.
But the blade’s path never changed. CBG rolled away, over and over, slipping out of the same predictable arc until it found a gap and got its feet under it.
Clang.
A strike landed on its side, but the weapon jammed in the armor instead of cutting through. CBG’s vision finished clearing.
Minks.
***
Minks tried desperately to yank the Stardust Blade free, but it wouldn’t budge. CBG drove a boot into him, sending him tumbling into the wall.
Dizzy, Minks struggled up and tried to run—only for a foot to pin him in place, crushing him to the floor.
“How delightful,” CBG snarled. “I’ve had my wrists taken off twice by a bug like you.”
Minks understood the outcome. He stopped fighting.
CBG’s hands had been regenerating the entire time. By now, both were whole again. It grabbed Minks and hauled him up.
“Where are they?”
Minks said nothing.
“You think silence helps?” CBG leaned closer, amused. “In one more day, this scrap ship will be packed with my army. You think they can hide forever?”
A pause—then its voice softened into something that almost sounded reasonable.
“Tell me now and I won’t hurt them. But if I find them myself… I can’t promise anything.”
“Wyatt will kill you,” Minks rasped at last.
“Wyatt…?” CBG barked a laugh. “You idiots don’t even know he’s already been terminated? If you’re still betting on him, you can—”
It cut off mid-sentence.
Minks’ optics had stopped shifting. The light was draining out, dimming by degrees.
Minks had shut himself down.
CBG stared for a moment, then chuckled darkly. “Fine. Heh. Another stubborn one.”
***
Elsewhere on the Sunflower…
In the pitch-black cabin, Linneya’s eyes were wide with terror. She couldn’t see a thing—after the light went out, the darkness was absolute—but she could hear the faint, soft creak of the door opening.
Someone stepped inside and whispered, “Linneya.”
The voice loosened every knot in her chest. Linneya threw off the blanket, rushed forward, and hugged the newcomer hard.
“Starling! You scared me to death.”
Starling wrapped an arm around her and pressed a finger to her lips. “Shh. Quiet.”
She glanced back, eased the door shut, and Pinecone immediately flicked the lamp on.
“Is that bad robot still here?” Linneya asked in a tiny voice.
“Yeah.”
“Then what do we do?”
Starling squeezed Linneya’s cold little hand. “Don’t worry. We outnumber it. We already chased it off—we just don’t know where it’s hiding. Once Uncle Eisen and the others find it and shut it down, we’ll be okay.”
“But the ship is huge. How do you even search it?”
“We’ll find it. We’ve to.”
Starling noticed the orange beans on the table were barely touched. “You didn’t eat.”
“I don’t want to.”
“You’ve to eat a little,” Starling insisted. “If you don’t, I’m going to make you sleep again.”
“Okay, okay. I don’t want to sleep again.” Linneya hesitated, then admitted, “So… do I’ve to keep hiding?”
“Mm. But…” Starling’s voice softened. “If you don’t want to hide, I do have another idea.”
“What?”
“Do you want to go outside for a day or two?”
“Yesyesyesyesyes!” Linneya jolted upright, suddenly alive.
“Shh!”
“Oh. Right.”
“Do you remember the mountain we climbed last time?”
“The one not far from the ship—with the little cave halfway up?”
“That one.”
“I remember! That’s perfect. I can see stars and the sun again!”
“Then you’ve to promise: no wandering off. You stay in your suit the whole time. It’s cold outside, the oxygen is thin, and you bring enough water and food. If you don’t finish what you take, you don’t come back.”
“Mm-hmm, mm-hmm.” Linneya nodded hard—then froze. “Wait. Starling… you’re not coming with me?”
“Pinecone will be with you,” Starling said. “I need to help them catch the bad guy.”
Linneya went quiet.
A long, heavy silence.
Starling turned her face toward the metal door and, for the first time, felt grateful she couldn’t cry.
“Okay,” she said, forcing a thin smile. “I’ll go with you.”
“Yes!”
“Lower your voice.”
***
They agreed quickly. Starling cracked the door, checked the corridor, and once she was sure it was clear, she took Linneya’s hand and led her out.
They moved through the ship without a sound. Linneya held Starling’s hand with one, and hugged Carlos’s arm with the other. Pinecone perched on her shoulder, scanning for movement.
They jogged to the supply storage room.
This was where Starling kept the orange beans she’d grown, the water she’d collected, and anything else that might be useful. Now it meant they could pack fast.
Starling helped Linneya into an oversized spacesuit, then filled two backpacks—food, water, and a handful of camping supplies. She took the larger pack; Linneya carried the smaller. And Linneya didn’t forget to stuff Carlos’s arm into her bag before they left.
After a frantic sprint of preparation, they slipped out again. The exit near the island wasn’t far. Ten minutes later, Starling had Linneya outside without incident.
The moment Linneya stepped onto the ground, a gust nearly knocked her over. It was daytime, but the sky was choked with sand, dim as twilight. Linneya didn’t mind. Compared to the ship’s suffocating blackness, this was nothing.
Starling clearly hadn’t realized how bad it was out here. She shielded Linneya with her body and said, worried, “Why is the wind so strong?”
Linneya’s mood lifted the second she left the ship. Sand pinged off her helmet like hail, and she still spun in a delighted circle with her arms out.
“It’s not strong at all,” she declared brightly. “This is ‘perfect weather’! Hahaha. Great for climbing.”
Seeing Linneya smile like that—for once—made Starling’s chest loosen.
“All right, brave one,” she said. “Let’s go.”
***
The mountain they chose wasn’t too steep, and they climbed on the leeward side, so it wasn’t as hard as it looked.
About four hours later, they reached a small cave.
Starling pulled a tent from her pack and started setting it up. The cave was cramped; once the tent was in place, there wasn’t much room left. Starling had found it earlier while scouting safer spots and had brought Linneya once before, but it had always been too small to matter—until now.
The sky was darkening. Linneya sat at the cave mouth and watched the mountains with what little light remained. The wind and dust reduced the ridgelines to a few wavering shadows, and Linneya still looked mesmerized.
“We probably won’t see any stars tonight,” Starling said.
“That’s okay.” Linneya leaned into her. “Having you here is enough. We’ll have chances later.”
As the last light faded, the cold dropped fast. To keep warmth in, Starling fixed an inflatable thermal membrane across the cave entrance.
With the lamp’s soft glow behind it, the cave turned into a small pocket of warmth. Starling prepared dinner, and Linneya helped. It was orange beans again, but this time Linneya ate like it was a feast.
Afterward they talked. Starling told stories from her working days—small, funny things—until Linneya laughed so hard she wheezed. Pinecone seemed to understand too, chattering along with its own excited squeaks.
Later, Starling set up the sleeping bag and crawled inside with Linneya. Linneya hugged Carlos’s arm and curled against Starling’s chest, suddenly feeling a strange comfort—as if this were just some weekend camping trip long ago.
“Starling…” Linneya whispered.
“Mm?”
“Is it really true… that I’m the only human left?”
“I don’t know.” Starling sounded distracted, burdened. “If it’s… are you scared?”
“Not if you’re here.”
Starling’s voice dropped. “But I’m scared.”
“Don’t be.” Linneya tightened her hold. “I’ll protect you.”
Starling forced a smile into the dark. “Okay. Deal.”
“Starling?”
“Mm?”
“We’re never going to be separated again, right?”
“Right.”
***
The wind howled outside the membrane. Before long, sleep pulled Linneya under. She used Carlos’s arm as a pillow and, for a moment, it felt like she was back on that broken little boat by the sea.
“Dad… no. Starling…” she murmured through the haze.
“Mm?”
Starling answered, but the response never came. When she looked down, Linneya was already asleep.
***
Linneya dreamed of her mother.
Her mother’s face was blurred now, almost the same as Starling’s. In the dream, Linneya was back in that night of fire—explosions, collapsing buildings, people sprinting in every direction while machine soldiers hunted them down.
An Exiler chased them. Her mother—Starling—carried Linneya and ran with everything she had.
Then her father arrived in a fighter, gunned down the robot, and pulled them aboard. But once they were in the sky, no matter how Linneya shouted, her father never answered. Instead, he drove the fighter straight into the ground.
Linneya leaned forward—
and her father’s face had become a robot’s.
She jolted awake, crying.
“Starling! I had a nightmare…!”
But the space beside her was empty.
At some point—she didn’t know when—there was only one body left inside the sleeping bag.