We followed behind the nimble little creature, who had made escaping the brig possible, around twists and turns, and more intersections than I could count. The going was slow. The ship was big. And we had wounded.

And then we reached the ladder.

“Fuck me,” Johnson said.

“Quiet,” I murmured, studying the green glow.

There was already a hell of a lot that worried me about this girl. The hatch opening wrist comm. The money to buy steak dinners just to get the steak knives they came with. The way she travelled these emergency conduits as if they were her own personal jungle-gym. And now this. A green glowing gel-wall-coated ladder leading upwards.

I’d seen this glow before, of course. Aquila used to use it to calm people. To reassure them. He’d used it on me once, and I’d told him to knock it off. No one manning the tactical console on the bridge needed green to calm them. Tactical was always in control of their emotions. Always.

Even now, I was sure I showed little of my concern. But green glowing gel walls when the Aquila since he’d gone rogue would rather use red was a surprise.

I looked at the girl before me.

“We’re going up?” I asked. The habitats were down. She was taking us into officer territory.

She nodded her head and bit her lower lip.

“Lead on,” I said.

She started climbing. I shared a look with López.

“Johnson, Armstrong," I added, stepping onto the closest rung, “Help out Nova with Munro.”

“Yes, sir,” they both replied, letting Flux pass with the still slightly confused Wilson.

The ladder went on and on. I’d never really appreciated the size of this ship. I knew they were bigger than most in the fleets, because of the computer core required to run the AIs. But I’d never really appreciated the depth of the thing.

My arms ached. My feet felt like lead. I had a brief thought that I should have grabbed one of those steaks, and then it was over. The ladder went on, but the green glowing gel wall broke off on what I had worked out was C Deck.

C Deck. C Deck. C Deck, I thought to myself. Computer core. Science labs. And recycling.

This just got weirder and weirder.

Adi checked behind her to make sure we were all still there. Still here, I thought. Not letting you out of my sight, missy.

She bit her lip again and then started off. Following the glowing green wall.

I felt like Dorothy in the Land of Oz.

No, I was the tin man, I told myself. The little girl in front of me was Dorothy.

Where’s Toto? I thought and then chuckled quietly. Yeah, right.

I had no way to know which end of the deck we were on. I tried to picture where we’d been in the brig, where we’d gone on that deck to reach the glowing green ladder, and where we were now. But I lost myself somewhere around the first corner we’d taken.

Every now and then, Adi would stop and wait for the train to catch up. I thought perhaps she could navigate these tunnels a lot quicker without an entourage. Her diminutive figure meant she didn’t have to bend double. She could manage a walk, albeit crouched. She could practically run through these things, and here I was crawling behind her.

By the time we’d reached a dead end, I’d just about had enough. And Munro was unconscious. At least she’d stopped whimpering. I wasn’t sure how much more of this I could take. But as Adi stopped and looked back at us, then finally settled her uncertain eyes on my face, I sucked it up.

I was their captain, and I would lead by example.

“This it, huh?” I said.

“Yep,” she whispered.

“Do we need to be quiet?”

She shook her head.

“Anything else we need to know?”

She just sat there. Staring at me.

“If it makes you happier,” I said. “I am the captain of the ship. Nowhere is off limits to me.”

That didn’t seem to make her happier at all.

I couldn’t make this woman out to save myself.

“OK,” I said. “We’re ready.”

It was clear that Adi was not.

She turned away and nodded to herself, some sort of internal debate raging. And then she lifted her wrist comm and swiped at the dead end.

A hatch opened. Heat rushed into the tube to greet us. Adi slipped through and landed on soft feet before me. I crawled forward and peered around.

For a moment, I couldn’t seem to move.

“What is it, sir?” López said. “I’m hoping the science labs. They’d have medkits there.”

Good idea, I thought and shook my head.

I climbed out and stared up at the enormous pillars before me, covering my mouth with a hand as I took it all in.

“Holy shit,” López offered, slipping out of the hatch behind me.

Adi was still standing close enough to keep it open, but I could tell she wanted to run.

“Yeah,” I said. “We’re in the tin man’s head.”

“I thought it was a heart he was missing?” López offered.

“Well, he’s sure as hell not missing a brain, Commander,” I said.

Exclamations came from each subsequent officer who emerged from our tunnel. Even Wilson was shocked but managed not to shake his poor head.

Munro was the last to be brought out, and she looked bad. Her breathing was shallow, and there was a cast to her skin I didn’t care for.

“Why here?” I said, looking at Adi as she inched away from the hatch. The gel wall reformed behind her.

“It’s safe,” she said.

“From whom?” I asked. “This is…” I shook my head. “This is Aquila!” I said.

“He’s not here,” she offered. “Well.” She looked around at all the towering hard drives. “His brain is, but he isn’t. It’s not monitored. No one’s come in here since he went rogue. I think it’s sealed. The only way in and out, even using the wrist comm, is there.”

She pointed at the gel wall that we’d all come through.

“That makes no sense at all,” I said. “The crew have access to this section in case Aquila needs repairs.”

“I don’t know what to tell you,” she said, taking a step back.

She was going to run. But to where?

This was one hell of a big area of the deck, but not that big. We’d find her. And why bring us here if she was so scared?

“Captain,” Johnson said.

I glanced back.

“We need the doc.”

I looked down at Munro. Her breathing stopped.

No. Damn it. No. We needed an engineer. We were in the AI’s goddamn brain. We were right here. We needed an engineer. We could stop this.

Armstrong started CPR. López jumped in to help him. I just stood there.

We were right here. In his head. We could stop this.

I watched as López breathed air into Munro’s mouth and Johnson cracked a rib.

The command officers of the AUS Aquila stood to attention at her side.

A waif of a woman who had so many secrets I didn’t know what questions to ask first watched us with wide eyes.

We had no doctor. He’d been confined elsewhere. We had no meds. No defib. Nothing.

Munro died in the most technologically advanced section of our ship, and we couldn’t do a thing about it.

“That’s enough,” I said twenty minutes later. “Stop.”

Johnson pulled back, sweating.

López collapsed onto her ass, wiping at tears.

No one said a thing.

And then a dog barked.