The pilothouse walls are solid black. Perhaps this place only comes to life for Spingate or Gaston. It hits me that if anything happens to them, we won’t be able to take the shuttle anywhere. Beckett is a gear…could he fly it?
O’Malley leans against a wall. “Aramovsky is a problem.”
“Wow, Chancellor, you’re really observant.”
He says nothing. His expression remains blank.
I take a slow breath. I’m so mad at Aramovsky I want to attack everything and everyone.
“Sorry,” I say. “I can’t believe he threatened Spingate.”
“While you were gone, he was talking to people. He wants everyone to follow his religion.”
I feel my teeth grinding. “He doesn’t even know what the religion is. The God of Blood? Doesn’t sound familiar to me, at all. I think he’s making it up as he goes along.”
“He doesn’t care about truth, Em—he cares about power. Your power.”
“I don’t have any power.”
O’Malley shakes his head. “You do. That’s why you’re the only leader for us. That’s why you’re the only leader for me.”
“Watch him,” I say. “Really watch him this time. We can’t let him do something else to make things even worse.”
O’Malley comes closer. There is a hunger in his eyes. I see his gaze flicking all over my face, like he’s trying to take in every part of me all at once. He reaches out, gently holds my shoulders. Even through the coveralls, his touch sends a tingle through my body. He smiles, which chases away my thoughts of anything but that smile.
My breath gets short. What is he doing? I try to tell him to stop, but the words won’t come out.
He pulls me closer.
“Em, you’re so beautiful.”
He said the same thing on Deck Three, when he was looking at Matilda’s face.
“Because my bruises have healed, right? Now I’m pretty enough for you, is that it, O’Malley?”
“When we’re alone, you can call me Kevin.” He leans closer. “You were the first thing I saw when I woke up. You’ll always be pretty to me.”
I want to be mad, but I can’t. So I’m healed up now, so what? This isn’t Matilda’s face—it’s mine.
O’Malley is so sure, so confident, but I’m confused. Bishop likes me. I know he does; he kissed me. Now, though, it’s like he doesn’t want to be near me. O’Malley leans in. He’s moving slowly, giving me plenty of chances to pull away if I want to.
I don’t.
His lips meet mine. It feels…delicious. As good as it felt with Bishop, but different. Does every boy kiss different?
O’Malley’s fingertips caress the back of my neck. I can’t think of anything but him, his lips, the way he smells, the feel of his hands on my body.
Unlike Bishop, O’Malley wants me and he’s not shy about it.
Bishop…
Our kiss almost got Spingate killed.
I shove O’Malley. He stumbles back, surprised.
“Don’t ever kiss me again.” I try to sound hard, but my words come out as a cracked plea.
He smiles. “I won’t. Until you ask me to.”
Anger floods in, washing away the confused feelings.
“That’s not going to happen,” I say. “Now get out.”
His smile widens. So stunning, and yet there is something off about it.
“As you wish, Empress.”
He leaves the pilothouse.
I close my eyes, try to calm myself. I didn’t want him to stop, I admit it, but who does he think he is?
I don’t know. But I know what he doesn’t think he is—he doesn’t think he’s a leader. He’s not like Aramovsky in that way, or even Bishop. O’Malley is comfortable being at my side, giving me counsel, providing the information I need. Not once has he challenged my leadership. Not once has he stepped in because he thought I couldn’t handle something.
But just now he was so…aggressive. Not physically, he was emotionally aggressive.
When I opened his coffin and looked at his face for the first time, I had never seen anything so beautiful. Since then, I’ve experienced so much more: spaceships, cities, ruins, stars and moons, blood and death, love and tenderness…
…and through all of that, Kevin O’Malley is still the most beautiful thing I have ever known.
He kissed me.
He wants me.
I don’t know if I can be mad at him. I don’t know if I can be mad at Bishop, either. I don’t know what to think about any of this.
A shake of my head, a rub of my face. Push those thoughts away, Em—there are more important things to worry about. We need food. There are people who survive in Omeyocan’s jungle, who obviously know what to eat. For us to survive, I have to find them.
And that means tomorrow, as soon as it’s light, we have to go outside the walls again.
The sun is about to rise. Most everyone is still asleep. I am in the pilothouse with my friends: Spingate, Gaston, O’Malley and Bishop. And, unfortunately, Aramovsky.
I don’t want him here, but what choice do I have? If he’s with me, he’s not talking behind my back. And as much as I hate to admit it, he’s smart. I won’t ignore good ideas just because they come from someone I don’t like.