My heart races in my chest and I'm breathing heavy, ragged gasps, struggling to keep up with the group running through the city. I'm in no shape for this.

Through a sheer act of will I force myself to keep moving. The stitch in my side comes in so hard I bite my lower lip to avoid crying out. I don't think I'm even hydrated enough to sweat.

This isn't the way it's supposed to be. We made it, damn it. How can everything go so damn wrong!

I'm trailing behind. Can't keep up. Stupid, stupid body.

My thighs burn, stars dance in my vision, still I push forward. No stopping. Can't stop, have to reach him. Have to find a way.

Fire. My lungs are on fire. Every inhale sears.

No more. I can't make another step.

I do. Somehow. One more. Another. Can't look ahead. Can't stop. One foot after another. Keep going.

The dome sparkles ahead as we round a corner. There are two groups of people shouting at each other. Striding out between them in a brilliant white outfit strides a tall woman. Long, dark hair flows down past her shoulders. She's imperious and commanding, her presence demands respect.

Though I've never seen her in person, I recognize her. The Lady General Rosalind. Commander of the ship's fighting force. The stories about her are wild and varied, from tales of kindness to ones of unbelievably cold cruelty.

Rosalind steps between the two groups and the shouting stops as she looks from one to the other. The group of women I'm with move closer but stand apart to one side. Rosalind looks over her shoulder at us before turning her attention to the door.

"What happened here?" she asks.

"That son of a bitch Petras smashed the door lock!" a scruffy looking man standing at the front of one group yells, pointing at someone in the other group.

Rosalind glances at the scruffy man. It's only a glance but he shrinks before it. I mean, damn, she doesn't even have to speak.

"Your ladyship," the man adds, not meeting her eyes. "I mean to say… Petras over there, he smashed the door, you see."

Rosalind turns her attention to the pointed out man. The one she's looking at has black, burnt looking holes throughout his clothing and singed hair.

"Petras?" Rosalind asks.

"Yeah?" Petras replies, not meeting her eyes.

"Well?"

"Yeah, I did it," he says.

Rosalind stares, waiting.

"They deserved it. We don't need no more of them in here," Petras adds.

"You made this decision on your own?" Rosalind asks, one perfect eyebrow arching up.

"What are you implying Rosalind?" a new voice asks.

An average sized man steps through the group that Petras is with. He has gray at the temples of his dark hair, a deeply lined, tan face and big hands. He's dressed in a three piece suit despite the heat and looks almost as impeccable as Rosalind, but not quite.

"I'm not implying anything Gershom," Rosalind says. "I'm inquiring."

"Is this man on trial?" Gershom asks. "Have we fallen so far from our roots we now enforce vigilante justice?"

"An investigation Gershom. Asking questions doesn't violate anyone's rights."

"Isn't it? He's being questioned without representation."

"He admitted he did it," Rosalind counters. "The only question now is why."

I'm still trying to catch my breath but the burning stitch in my side is easing up at least.

"Is that true Petras? Did you do this?" Gershom asks, turning to look at him.

"Yeah, yes sir," Petras says, his eyes darting to Gershom then away, then back again.

He's shifty looking. Untrustworthy.

"I see," Gershom says. "Well that is a most unfortunate decision."

"We need to know why he did it," Rosalind interjects.

"We do," Gershom says, turning to look at the man. "Petras why did you do this heinous act?"

"Huh?" Petras says, looking up in his confusion. "Haynes?"

Gershom smiles, placing a hand on Petras' shoulder.

"Terrible thing," Gershom says, explaining the word.

"Oh, well, because we don't need no more of their kind in here. You ought to know," he says, smiling with what I can only describe as relief.

"I see," Gershom says. "Well, there you go Rosalind. That is why he did it."

"Who put him up to it?" she demands.

"Put him up to it?" Gershom asks. The grin on his face tells me all I need to know. Listening to Gershom makes me feel slimy. Gross. I don't trust a thing he says.

Something flashes outside the dome, catching my attention. When I look, Ragnar is standing on the other side and my heart leaps into my throat. I stumble forward a step before I realize it.

He's worried about me. I smile trying to reassure him.

"Yes Gershom," Rosalind says, her voice cutting. "Put him up to it. Where did he get such an idea?"

"Petras?" Gershom asks, turning to face the man.

"I don't guess I understand the question. I wasn't put up to it, I did it because its the right thing. We don't need no more cross-breeding going on," he says, scratching his head.

"And there you go," Gershom says, a smile that goes from ear to ear spread across his face.

Rosalind stares with pursed lips. A murmur starts in the crowd behind her as the tension rises. A tingling sensation races across my skin as I realize that this moment could go either way. Depending on what she says and does, this will resolve peacefully or devolve into something like a riot.

Rosalind senses it too. She nods to Gershom.

"Very well," she says. "Take Petras into custody. We need to arrange a trial of his peers."

"Of course," Gershom says.

He holds up a hand and circles one finger in the air. Two men behind him move over and take Petras by either arm then lead him away.

"But I didn't do nothing wrong!" Petras cries over his shoulder.

No one responds.

"All right everyone," Rosalind says. "You should all have jobs you're supposed to be doing, so let's get to it. Anyone that knows something about electronics, come help me with this door. Amara's out and I don't have another engineer."

"I can help," Delilah says, stepping forward from the group.

"Who are you?" Rosalind asks.

"Delilah."

"You're from the other part of the ship, right?" Rosalind asks.

Oh my god, I try not to fan-girl but she really is amazing. How did she know that already?

"Yeah," Delilah says.

"I'll try to help, too" I add.

I'm not an engineer but I'm good at seeing patterns, it might help.

"And you are?" Rosalind asks.

Butterflies dance in my stomach when she looks at me like I'm being weighed and judged.

"I'm Olivia."

"Good, you two get to it," Rosalind says.

Delilah grins as I join her and we go over to the door together.

"You know Gershom put him up to this," Calista says to Rosalind.

"You have proof of that?" Rosalind asks, her voice low.

"No, he's smarter than that," Calista says.

"Exactly," Rosalind says.

Calista's frown deepens. The waters here are deep. What is it about human nature that can create such hatred? Those of us who crashed in the other part of the ship didn't have politics like this going on. Survival was paramount. There wasn't time for such nonsense.

"Damn," Delilah says, keeping her voice low as she leans in close to the destroyed panel.

I'm not sure if she's talking about the damage or the overheard conversation from behind us. She looks over then darts her eyes back. Ah, the conversation, of course.

Biting my lower lip, I nod. I'm not sure what to make of it. Are the other humans here afraid of the Zmaj taking all their women? Is that what it is? If so, why do other women join that movement? It doesn't make sense. The Zmaj have been nothing but helpful. Even if Ladon was kind of scary outside the gate, he didn't act that way towards the humans.

"Yeah," I say, agreeing with Delilah.

"What the hell is wrong with these people?" she whispers.

"I don't know."

Delilah whistles a long, low sound as she digs through the wires.

"This is bad," she says. "When he smashed the lock it fried this circuit board. No way to repair that, we'll have to replace it."

"Great, wonder if they have one lying around somewhere?"

"Wouldn't that be nice?" Delilah says.

Snorting, I dig through the wires myself, looking for what, I don't know. The faint scent of burnt plastic is all the reward I get. She's right about the board being fried. I'm not an electronics expert but I've spent more than my fair share of time working on computers and I always stuck my nose in when the tech guys would do repairs.

"What's the verdict?" Rosalind asks.

"It's bad," Delilah says. "We need to replace that board there." She points behind the wires.

Rosalind nods but gives no sign of frustration. "Okay," she says.

"Damn it," Calista says, looking up and out the dome. "Ladon is out there."

I try to not let my thoughts go to Ragnar but it's like trying to deny gravity. There has to be an answer.

"Can we scavenge a board from something else?" I ask.

Calista shrugs.

"Well there were all those screens and electronics in that room you took me too," I say. "Are there more of those?"

Calista looks at Rosalind who nods.

"Good idea," Rosalind says. "Do it. Calista can you help them? Who's watching the baby?"

"He's with Jolie," Calista answers. "So yeah, I can help. I know nothing about electronics though."

"Right, lead them around the city. Take them to places we haven't commandeered yet."

"Is this the only gateway?" Delilah asks.

"No, but the other ones are on the opposite side of the city and what little power we have doesn't reach that far."

"Oh," Delilah says, shaking her head.

Turning to look out the dome I do a double take. Ragnar is standing right across from me. His hand presses against the iridescent dome.

My hand trembles as I reach out and press it against his. The dome is cold, lacking the warmth of his touch. An inch, maybe a touch more, is all that separates us. It might as well be miles.

I have to get this door open.

"Someone likes you," Delilah says, cutting through my moment.

My cheeks burn hot as I glance over my shoulder.

"Yeah," I say. "I guess so."

She smiles but doesn't say a thing more. It's moment like this that reinforces why she's my best friend.

"Let's get this door fixed," she says.