When Sam asked to see his family and his medical records, he sort of expected something to happen soon.

But nothing did.

While he waited, he heard from no one. He couldn’t message out because his armband wasn’t working. Nothing on the panel at his right reached anyone anymore, either—not even the red button.

Sam banged it again and again. Had he dreamed up Ms. Cheerful? Was he going insane?

Insanity. That was another good way to get yourself locked up, drugged up, controlled.

Paranoia circled his mind, drilling into his soul. This was how they got people. If someone managed to avoid succumbing to violence, ship powers made sure they landed in perfect conditions to develop insanity or out-of-control drug use.

Sam clenched his teeth against the pain an...

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