Alight (The Generations Trilogy #2)(77)

“Do your best,” I say, wondering if she actually will without Aramovsky telling her to do so.

Outside the medical room, Bishop is waiting for me. He’s anxious. The emotion doesn’t suit him well.

“It’s Bello,” he says quietly. “Don’t you think we’d be able to tell if it wasn’t our friend?”



I say nothing. We head for the pilothouse.

He wants to believe so badly when he should doubt her every word. I’m disappointed in him. When I thought I would do anything to keep him from thinking poorly of me, it never crossed my mind that the situation might someday be reversed.

In the pilothouse, Gaston, Spingate and O’Malley are waiting for us. The walls show images of people talking in the coffin room, the dark landing pad outside with three spiders standing watch, and Bello’s closed coffin in the medical room.

“Smith doesn’t know if she can detect overwriting,” I say. “Spin, anything in your lab that would help us?”

She won’t make eye contact. Right away, I’m sure she’s holding something back. I’m so hungry, my fingers hurt, my shoulders ache and my head is pounding—I don’t have patience for more secrets.

“Speak up,” I snap. “Not telling me the truth is the same as lying to me.”

She flinches. That hurt—I wanted it to hurt. I’m done with this girl hiding things from me.

Bishop crosses his arms. “Now you’re starting in on Spingate? Who will you doubt next? Me?”

“If you keep acting like a gullible kid, yes. Bello could be playing you for a fool, so stop thinking we don’t have to pay a price for leaving her behind, and start thinking about the safety of this shuttle and our people.”

Bishop’s lip curls. He’s not used to anyone speaking to him that way.

Gaston puts his hand on Spingate’s back, rubs a small circle.

“Just tell her,” he says.

She brushes back her thick red curls, struggles to force out the words.



“One of the things my progenitor studied was the overwriting process,” she says. “I can only recall a little bit. Just snippets, really. I’ll try to remember if there’s a way to test Bello, but…Em, I…my progenitor…she wanted to learn how to erase people. She liked it.”

Gaston glares at me like it’s my fault I dragged that out of her, like all of a sudden Spingate is this fragile thing that needs protecting. Why, because she’s pregnant? Spingate can take care of herself.

“I know how you feel,” I say to her. “But we can’t control the evil things our creators did. We can only control the choices we make. Do your best.”

She nods. “I will. But I should be focusing on the red mold instead.”

“Zubiri will do that,” I say. “You focus on Bello.”

O’Malley shakes his head. “So this is more important than food? The Grownups made receptacles so they could live on Omeyocan. If this Bello is a Grownup, then she got what she wanted. Anything she does to harm us also harms her. If our Bello is gone, I’m sorry about that, but we shouldn’t be wasting our time with this. Besides, she’s too small to be a threat.”

What is he thinking? I’m small, and I’ve killed twice. But does he have a point? Bello is alone. What can she do—trick people to go back to her lumpy ship and return to the Xolotl? Only six of us would fit in there, seven at most.

No…there is a way for her to take all of us.

“Bello said she didn’t fly the lumpy ship,” I say. I look at Gaston. “If she’s lying, if she did fly it here, does that mean she’d have the skills needed to fly the shuttle back to the Xolotl?”

I see realization hit home on my friends’ faces. Bishop’s arms uncross. O’Malley glances at the wall showing Bello’s coffin. Maybe now he understands that you don’t have to be big to be dangerous.



“Maybe she could,” Gaston says. “Different ships usually have different controls, though. I’d have to see that lumpy ship to know if she could fly the shuttle.”

“Then go look,” I say. “Right now.”

“Coyotl will take you on his spider,” Bishop says. “I’ll send Muller as well, with a musket.”

Bishop isn’t volunteering to go, because he wants to stay in the shuttle—he finally understands the real threat might be here, with us, not somewhere out there.

“I won’t go,” Gaston says. “Bello could be one of them. I’m not leaving Spingate here alone.”

“There’s hundreds of us here,” Spingate says. “I won’t be alone.”

“I’ll watch out for her,” I say. “I’ll make sure Bishop watches her, too. Gaston, we need to know.”

He shakes his head, squares his shoulders. “Send Beckett. He’s studied hard, he knows how to fly.”

Spingate rolls her eyes. “Gaston, I’ll be fine. Go!”

He turns on her. “I said no. That baby is ours—you don’t get to make all the decisions just because you’re the one carrying it. I’m not going, you’re not going, and if you had told me you were pregnant before you went out looking for the Springers, I would have said the same godsdamn thing then!”