Captain’s log, 2 February 2158.

We were late for our first show in Atalanta due to traffic delays.

“How long have we been in orbit?” Ieva asked, leaning into the cockpit.

“Too damn long,” Liam muttered before he checked the cockpit’s clock. “Three hours, I think.”

“Wow.” Ieva sniffled. “What’s the matter?”

“Too many people trying to get to the surface, not enough checkpoints,” Liam answered. Ieva settled into the seat next to his.

“Uh, is there any way we could speed this up? Renelle’s getting pretty tense,” Nola said from the threshold. “Our show is in an hour, and we haven’t even reached the spaceport.”

“I know,” Liam said with as much...

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