I listened for the gunshot behind me: the gunshot that told me they'd betrayed us; the gunshot that told me Murphy and Echo had shot them all dead; the gunshot that told me Clarke was…. But it never came. She was safe. Clarke was safe. And that was all I needed to know to keep my feet moving one in front of the other.

We'd landed 200 miles south of Polis in the only patch of green for miles around. I didn't recognise this part of the forest, but I did know the leaves of that broad-leaf shrub were sharp enough to cut skin, that the branches of those star-leafed trees were solid enough to whittle into spears, and that the fumes from the sap of that blue-berry tree would burn out your eyes if you got too close. They didn't know any of that. They didn't know the basin they'd landed in would flood with the first heavy rain. The database on the Ring said they'd been in cryosleep for 100 years, from before even the first apocalypse. That wasn't the whole story, but this still wasn't the Earth they knew.

"Home, sweet home." The Garagin shone through the final line of trees, and Salin's hand was on my back again, pushing me down the muddy slope into the basin. There were four pairs of footprints going the other way. The smaller ones weren't as deep, the tread the same as the Guard on the Ark used to use—Clarke's.

"Shame ya didn't get to say goodbye to her." Kurk's fingernails raked across my scalp, yanking my head backwards by the roots. "That was your last chance." Ha. The spit-saturated rag in my mouth restricted my reply, and I was grateful. They didn't know Clarke. Her and Raven would have me out before sundown.

The work-bay doors cranked open above us, and the loading platform made its own way down. The ship looked bigger down here against the young trees. Against the planets and the constellations, it was a tiny speck. But that wasn't the only thing that was amplified. I'd been a prisoner on this ship for almost three months. The pain had sucked away most of my memories, but not all of them. Not the hours alone in the dark, sprayed with hot engine oil. Not the sound of splintering bone as they drilled tiny holes in me. Not the serum they injected me with to escalate my worst fears; fears that were full of her, of leaving her to die. Sundown. It looked like maybe five or six hours away as the platform lifted us above the canopy. I just had to hold out until then.

Two men waited in the shade of the bay, away from the sunlight. They'd long succumbed to the metallic twang of hot steel and asteroid dust.

"Bellamy Blake." Dansk. "How long has it been? A year? Two?" One year, five months, and thirteen days. "You cut your hair," he mused, playing with the ends. I moved it out of his fingers, and he smiled. They'd shaved my head last time I was here. By the time we ran into each other on the Belt nine months later, it was long enough to tie up. Running for your life every second of every day did that to you. "We have your cell ready for you." He leaned closer, breathing the hot, wet stench of tobacco into my face. "It'll be like you never even left."

He motioned to the man beside him. I recognised his blue overalls—and the needle in his hand. Breathe. Trying to negotiate would only make it worse, I'd learned that the hard way.

My eyelids clamped closed, and I bit down on the gag. Sundown.

#

"She needs medicine, Raven."

"I know, Bellamy."

"Whatever's wrong with Harper, it's in the food. This is going to happen to us all."

"I know."

"There has to be something you can—"

"I'm not a doctor, Bellamy. What do you expect me to do?"

.

"Why...you...the Belt?"

The words ebbed and flowed with the throbbing in my head, the thick red marks across my chest burning like acid as I hung chained to the cell wall. "What...have you done to me?"

Dansk held up the used needle and considered it a moment. "Pain intensifying serum." He threw it back on the silver tray, and Kurk tightened the leather belt around his hands. "I could poke you with a feather right now and it would hurt like hell, so let me ask you again." He was back in my face quicker than I could process, pulling me by my fringe to look at him. "Why were you on the Belt?"

.

"Monty says whatever's affecting the food, is in the water now too." The oxygenator whirred beside us. Then shuddered to a stop. "How long do we have until it gives out permanently?"

"Depends"—she gave it another whack with the wrench—"on whether there's someone here every time it does that."

"Okay, so we need a new oxygenator, a hydro-generator, and medicine for Harper. Am I missing anything?"

"Yeah. Where we're going to get all that stuff. It's not like there's a galactic auto-repair shop we can just pull up a-t…." There was a silence as the oxygenator cut out again. A silence in which all Raven could do was sigh. "Tell me you're not serious."

.

"We were m-mapping s-stars." I lied. "F-found it by accident."

My chin hit my chest when he let go. I couldn't find the...energy...to pull it back up.

Stale water splashed over me, and the belt was sliding across my bare stomach again. Son-of-a-bitch! "Let's pretend for a second that we don't both know you're lying. How did you get there? Not in that stupid little rocket of yours, that's for sure."

.

Raven laughed. "You're insane if you think this rocket is getting us all the way to the asteroid belt. It's not getting us to the Moon, let alone Mars."

"Trojan horse. You remember those chambers we saw on the Gagarin—"

"—oh, no—"

"They'll be in cryogenic sleep, Raven—"

"—weren't you tortured enough the first time—"

"—if we dock our ship to theirs,—"

"—oh, hell no—"

"—then we can save on fuel…."

.

"There was...f-fuel, on the Ring."

"On the Ring?"

"Wewe pulled it out the lines"Dansk nodded at Kurk, and the belt swung through the air again—"Argh!"

"I don't think so," he replied, picking up a drill-bit from the tray. "I think you had help."

.

"Are you hypoxic?" She hit the oxygenator again for emphasis. "It'll take nine months, minimum. We don't have enough food, or water—"

"Once we're docked, we're in. We can use their ship while they're sleeping, refuel, and un-dock right before they all wake up. They'll never know."

.

"Help?" I half-laughed. Every nerve in my body felt live, every blood-cell popping like firecrackers beneath my skin. The wounds were nothing more than friction burns and scratches but, with that serum, it was as if he'd gone through me with a chain-saw. "Who would help us?"

.

"And what about Harper, Bellamy?" she whispered, looking over her shoulder at the empty corridor. Footsteps. Tired ones. "She's not going to last nine hours, let alone nine months."

"We'll freeze her, too. Look—what I really need to know is, how are you going to get us back?"

.

Dansk scoffed, "You really expect me to believe that? You expect me to believe you got all the way to the Belt in that two-man rocket, and then made it back here three months before us?"

.

"There's only one thing faster than hydrozine," she groaned, glancing over her shoulder again. "And I don't know where you expect me to get a nuclear converter—or a crate full of Plutonium 239."

"Dansk said there's a trading station there. It's big enough to dock the Gagarin and who knows what else," I hurried. "We have to try this, Raven." For Clarke.

"We have to try what?" she hissed. "We're going to fly all the way there and hope they're giving it out like Unity Day rice-cakes?

The footsteps stopped behind her. "They are." Monty. "The database says their machinery is fuelled by nuclear power."

"Right. Of course it is."

"We've left too many people behind already," he continued. "Jasper, Clarke…. And Harper didn't hesitate when we came back for you."

"Then I guess we're doing this," she sighed, pushing the wrench into my chest. "It's your watch. I'd better go and get your horse saddled up."

.

I snorted. I'd expected blood to follow, but it didn't. There was a stinging on my face from something. A fist? The belt? "I could start l-lying, if the truth isn't what you w-want to hear?"

"Then what about the assassination?"

"Ass-assination...?"

"At the trading station, you killed President Eligius' son."

.

"Monty!" It echoed through the network of air-duct tunnels louder than it should have, and my head whipped back to the scene below the slatted vent: Eligius, and a group of men arguing around a table, smoking cigars. They hadn't heard.

"We don't have time for this, Bellamy," he whispered, knees knocking against the metal as he backtracked. "Raven has the converter installed and the others are back on the rocket."

"I know, I know, just...just listen."

"I can't hear anything."

"They're—I think they're talking about…Mars?" It was the youngest one, at the opposite end of the table to Eligius. "What the hell?"

"What?"

.

"I...I didn't know who he was." It was true, at least. But that didn't stop the strangling grip around my heart, the grip that had me choking on air. The s-serum...it didn't just intensify physical pain.

"Just like you didn't know what those plans you stole were?"

.

"Bellamy, what—?"

"They're colonizing Mars; building an army."

"An army...?" He pulled away from the vent, sank back against the metal. "Against the Council. That's why they sent the Gagarin back to the Ark. Scoutship."

"Yeah, and they found us instead. That explains the interrogation; they think we know where the Council are."

"And what happens when they find them?"

"I have a pretty good idea," I grunted. "I need to get those plans, Monty. Get them back to the bunker."

.

"I was l-looking for the rest-room. There's not a lot of paper on the R-Ring. If you know...what I mean."

"No, I don't know what you mean." He nodded at Kurk, and the pain flashed across my cheek.

.

"What are you doing in here?" It was him. The guy from the meeting. The youngest one.

"Me? I'm—ah—I'm the cleanin' crew."

.

The scream tore through me, and I stamped my foot into the floor.

"Do you remember what this feels like?" he sing-songed, clicking the drill-bit into the drill. "You've got one more chance. And this time, it's going to hurt a whole lot worse. Where, are the plans?"

.

His eyes widened on the papers in my hand, and his nervous hand reached for the gun at his hip—don't do it. Gun-shot rang through the room, and for a moment no one moved. There wasn't much for him to shoot out here, but I'd had more than enough practise on Earth.

.

My eyelids squeezed in on themselves, and I bit back the pain. "In a waste dump somewhere between Mars and the moon. Probably."

He flew at me, drill-bit jerking against my eyelashes. "You think I'm joking? Who are you working for?" he spat. "The Council? I know they're down here. Where are they?"

"D-dead. Died in the l-landing."

Sweaty fingers grabbed at my hair again, yanking my head sidewards. "E-nough of the lies. Tell me now, and I'll make it easy for you. God—tell me now...and I'll make sure you're dead before I hand you over to President Eligius."

"Go—go float yourself."

The drill whizzed to life next to my ear; bore into my shoulder; vibrated through my teeth and all the way to my toes; echoed in my head. Stars exploded before my eyes, and I knew it before it even happened….

I'd passed out.


A/N:

Thank you so much for reading, and to Pretty Peach and nizi2003 for the reviews!

I'm already working on chapter 3, so it should be ready much sooner than this chapter. I have 10/11 chapters planned out for this, so don't expect things to go smoothly. There's some angst and unexpected conflict ahead.

Reviews are my friend, so feel free to comment on what you liked/didn't like!