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Logus felt a stitch in his side as he ran, but he didn’t want to stop.

He’d been searching for Apollonia for, it seemed, twenty minutes.

So far, there had been nothing but dead ends – and he had little to go on.  Despite his degree, he wasn’t a wizard who could predict all facets of human behavior.

Especially for someone who had always refused to talk to him.

Christ, he hoped she wouldn’t pull that now.  What a terrible choice he was for this, yet he had to try, he was the only reasonable choice.

“Show all people who Apollonia Nor has had a conversation lasting more than one minute . . . over the last six months,” he wheezed to his system.

He gave his doctor’s authorization for such a grievous violation of her privacy, and saw a list.  It was surprisingly long, and he had to narrow it.  “Longer than five minutes!” he said.  “Include data from off the ship if possible!  Sort by duration and level of perceived intimacy.”

The system worked a little longer.  Telling it to guess at intimacy level was a shot in the dark, but the system should be able to make a guess, and all he needed was a clue.

The list popped up, and he saw now; after Dr. Y and Captain Brooks . . .  He That Squats on Yellow Sand.

She had a knack for making alien friends, didn’t she?

He tracked down the Abmon, finding that he was, currently in one of the armories.

Which wasn’t far from the bunker Apollonia had left her tablet in.

The system indicated her going there was unlikely; the armory would not, after all, open up to let civilians in.

But that didn’t mean Apollonia wouldn’t try.

His system charted him the fastest route, and he tried to increase his speed.

“Armorer!” he messaged ahead.  “This is Dr. Arn Logus, prepare to open armory doors on my signal!  Override code . . .”  He sent it.

“Acknowledged, Doctor,” the Abmon came back.  “This is a very strange request, though . . .”

“Just be ready to open the bloody doors!” he said.

The hall he was in was a very gentle curve along the inner hull, and he knew it wasn’t much further.  Coming to a junction, he skidded around the corner-

And Apollonia was standing not ten feet away.

She whipped around to look at him, eyes wide, and he let out a gasp of relief.

“Apollonia!” he said.  “Come with me, immediately!”

“What?  What are you doing here?!” she asked.

“I came to find you – we have to get you to the armory-“

“I was heading to the armory,” she said, their words jumbling over each other.  They paused.

“Move,” he said.

“Is that the right way?  I got lost!” she said.

“Yes, it’s right-“

His system blared a warning as they turned into the short, defensible hall that led to the Armory door.  Aside from that feature, it was unmarked to anyone not connected to the Craton’s system.

But something was moving behind them, and it was not a part of the crew.

Shoving Apollonia ahead of himself, he caught the barest glimpse as he moved past the corner.

An enemy drone.

It fired, and he felt something sting on his temple.

“Open doors!” he barked.

Apollonia fell through, and he jumped in.

The door slammed shut just behind him – and he heard the sound of more shots hit the reinforced metal.

He That Squats on Yellow Sand was towering over him, leaning his heavy body over to peer at him on the floor.

“That was close,” the Abmon said.  “Sorry – the doors closed on their own when they sensed the hostile drone.  You’re . . . actually pretty lucky it didn’t get you.  The door or the drone.”

Logus put a hand on the side of his face, feeling the blood.  “I . . .  I think it did,” he said softly.

The Abmon rattled.  “Even I can tell that’s a scratch, Doctor!  You just had a close call!”

He was quickly realizing that Squats on Sand was right.

“Second close call today,” he said, his neck hurting even more now.

“Let’s hope you don’t have a third!” the Abmon replied, tromping up to the door, eyeing it and him and Apollonia all at once.

“Are you okay?” Logus asked Apollonia.  She had moved away, watching him with wide eyes.

She nodded, saying nothing.

“They’re outside,” Squats on Sand said.  “But don’t worry, unless they have something really big, they can’t get through this door.”

A screen turned on, and the Abmon trundled over to it, but it only showed an error text.

“They’re knocking out the cameras,” he grumbled.  “So I guess they’re really going to want in.  Let’s see if . . . ah, they missed one!”

An image appeared.  It showed a group of Hev espatiers and their drones.  They were setting up just outside the doors to the armory.

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