Bill slammed the airlock shut and locked it. He knew the girl was going to be a clinger, he could see it in her eyes. Dirtbound folks like her all had the same romanticized ideas about space travel. He could bet she'd been stuck in that miserable excuse for a civilized city her whole life. She probably just wanted to escape Surface and get out there, anywhere. 

Well no way was she coming with them. Simplicity was the key. The girl was trouble; it was best that they get rid of her now. She would be fine, all she had to do was get back home—and anyway, he had enough to deal with. Bill loathed accommodating for passengers of any sort, never mind a head of state.

A personal escort from the orbital station to the launching platform? Of course, Governor. Oh, and another passenger you didn't mention? No trouble at all, Governor. Fuming as he stomped toward the cockpit, Bill stopped at the door to strangle his anger and compose himself. He didn't want to lose his temper in front of the Governor before they'd even begun their journey. It was important to project an aura of certainty and self-assurance around men of such stature—he didn't want Strump questioning his competence in any way. Once he was satisfied his emotions were in check, Bill entered the cockpit.

Strump turned from his seat in the copilot's chair and began pointing frantically at one of the viewscreens while babbling, "Look look look—"

A reporter from one of the global networks was in the middle of a broadcast.

"—cause of the change in trajectory is unknown but we do know that based on current calculations, comet 17P/Orpheus will still pass by Surface with thousands of miles to spare. Just want to stress that last point, viewers, because it is a very important one: the comet Orpheus will not collide with Surface even though its current course will bring it a bit closer to us. We'll just get a much better view now!"

The reporter, a dark skinned man with silver-streaked black hair, forced a nervous laugh before continuing with his segment. An info bar faded in at the bottom of the screen with his name and title: Chep Stanley, lead anchor.

"For more information," Chep continued as a thin bald man appeared in a graphic beside him, "we've got a representative from the observatory which discovered the change in Orpheus's path. Dr. Gunderson, what exactly can you tell us about the change in the comet's orbit?"

"Well, we have our theories but right now we're not sure about the cause of the movement. We can tell you that it's a very gradual change, and if it continues at its current rate the comet will not collide with Surface. However, now that Orpheus is passing much closer it means Surface will be moving through a portion of its tail as we orbit Lux.

"All of those dust and rock particles can wreak havoc with satellites, including the orbital station, so as many as possible will be gathered safely on the far side of the planet from the tail while we pass through. Others are being intentionally destroyed by dropping them into remote ocean regions. Unfortunately there are just too many to save them all, so keep in mind on Surface there is falling debris predicted at the following sites—"

Bill shook his head, not comprehending. He nudged Strump with the back of his hand.

"What's the big deal? It won't be here for hours and we're leaving anyway."

"The change in trajectory is bringing Orpheus in sooner. Within the hour. It's got to be them. I never thought of that—oh my stars, I never thought—"

"Who?" Bill asked, anger building with his confusion.

Strump was babbling, consumed by some private terror as he watched the report. Bill grabbed the smaller man by his shoulders and hauled him out of his seat. He shook the Governor roughly, once back and forward, and brought their faces together. "Spit it out!"

"The pirates," he said. "They're using the comet as cover. It's perfect. We never saw them coming. They could hide their whole fleet with that thing, Bill. Think about it. They could never get here using our gates without us knowing. Orpheus went right through the asteroid belt on its way here. They ride along with it, just hang on to the thing with tethers—it would explain the change in course, everything. They could be doing it on purpose. Stars, they could pull it right into us!"

"You mean them," said Bill. "We're leaving." 

He released Strump and started the shuttle's ignition sequence.

"We can't, the debris from the tail—they've stopped all ship traffic. This is serious, Bill. When Orpheus passes by we're all going to be stuck over here on one side of the planet," Strump said. "The debris field alone is bad enough, but this would be the perfect opportunity for the pirates to strike. All gathered in one place, our defenses completely disrupted—"

"We're leaving," repeated Bill, strapping on his harness. "You better sit down."

#

Buttercup wasn't sure exactly why she did it. Some mixture of opportunity and reflex, maybe. Slack Dog's phone was just dangling there loose in Silver's front left chest pocket, totally exposed. A primo pick—he didn't even notice. 

The trick was a combination of misdirection and sleight of hand; when he stepped forward to force her out she went with a calculated backwards step and stumbled, catching herself on the wall with her left hand, drawing his eye—and lifting the lightweight phone out of Silver's open pocket with her right.

But he would, of course, find out it was missing before long and come looking for it. What did she take it for? It was that stupid gut instinct, that steel spring inside her that waited coiled and dangerous at every moment. It wasn't the first time her traitor instincts had gotten her in trouble, but she'd been saved by them too often to count. 

Which would it be this time? Silver was dangerous, and he'd be even more pissed than before. She considered turning back, just giving it up and apologizing before he came after her. She could explain she just did stupid things sometimes when people got hostile around her. But after seeing that look on his face—

Maybe it would be best for her to go back to Surface, bring the phone to the police. At least that way she wouldn't have to worry about getting disemboweled by some old dude's freaky cyborg hand. From there she could figure out her next move with Hargrove at the hotel. Regroup a little. Earlier in the day she was lamenting at how boring her life had become, how routine, how... safe. Now all she wanted was to get back to her room and crawl into bed.

It was during this homesick reverie that Silver caught up to her and clamped his hand into her right shoulder. Pain and surprise lanced through her and she tried to go limp, drop out of his grip—but he held firm and grabbed her left arm with his cold metal hand. Panic made her try to wriggle free as she realized how easy it would be for him to crush her arm into fleshy pulp, but she was caught. 

"Give me the map," he said. "You took it. Where is it?"

"Look, I'm sorry—" Buttercup began, and Silver released her shoulder to dig into her pack with his good hand. Her shoulder throbbed after he let go.

"In here?"

"Hey! Stop!"

Buttercup thrashed to break free, but Silver held on to her left arm without much effort. The dark metal hand pinched her skin as she struggled. Silver gave up rooting through her pack and growled with anger as he pushed her into a corner and blocked her there with his body, trapping her. Buttercup's heart pounded, back to the wall. She was quarried, captured. 

Backed into the corner with nowhere to run, Buttercup considered her options as she rubbed her shoulder. She'd expected Silver's cybernetic hand to hurt her, but it was his real hand that did the damage. Her collarbone felt bruised from where his thick fingers had dug into it. 

"I won't ask again."

"Alright, alright," She said, and slung her pack around to her front to reach inside. The phone was tucked into the front waistline of her pants, but Silver hadn't noticed. Buttercup licked her lips and gauged the distance between herself and the older, more powerful man. 

Her fingers found the grip on her knife and she slowly flicked it open inside the bag, making a show of trying to find the phone. She could hurl the bag at him as a distraction, then slash at him to keep him back as she dove for an escape. Now or never.

"Hurry up, out with it—"

Silver was cut off by a shrieking siren that blared from the station's speakers. After three sustained bursts of wailing, an artificial voice intoned with urgency, "Evacuate, evacuate. All civilians and non-essential personnel are to depart the station immediately. Ten minutes to evasive maneuvers. Evacuate, evacuate...."

The sirens and the voice alternated as the message continued. Buttercup held Silver's glare. Her hand was still clasped around her knife in the pack. If this was what he and the Governor were running from, she didn't want to stick around to find out what was going to happen next. 

"Take me with you!" she shouted.

"Just give me the damn thing," Silver said, and took a step toward her with his real right hand outstretched. 

Buttercup dropped her pack and brandished the knife at Silver, who danced back in retreat. He was faster than she would have thought his bulk would allow. 

"No! I'm not staying here," Buttercup said as she waved the knife between them, her voice high and frantic. "Take me with and it's yours, but I'm not staying here!"

 Silver threw his arms up in the air with frustration. He didn't reply, just turned around and stalked down the hallway toward the docking bay while gesturing angrily to himself. Buttercup picked up her pack and put the knife away—in her pocket this time—before following after Silver. He took long rapid strides and she struggled to keep him in sight without breaking into a run. When they got to the airlock at dock B46, Silver whirled on her without warning. 

"That's the last time you steal from me, girl," he said. "Give it to me, now."

"Only if I'm coming with you," said Buttercup.

"The map first."

"When we're on board," Buttercup insisted.

Silver shook his head and crossed his arms. "We don't proceed until I'm holding that map."

The evacuation warning continued, and the count was dwindling. Buttercup growled with displeasure and withdrew Slack Dog's phone from its hiding spot in her waistband. Without the map she had no leverage. Silver could easily take it from her and leave her behind. She would have to trust that he would still allow her on board once she gave it up. Her shoulder still burned from where he grabbed her.

"You'll obey my orders when we get on that ship," Silver said. "Best get used to it now."

Buttercup held the phone out for Silver. 

"Leave me here and I'll find you again someday."

Silver took it from her and rolled his eyes. "Very intimidating."

#

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