Abaddon's Gate

“We’re here,” James Holden said at deafening levels.

“How many are left, and what’s the situation?”

“Well,” Holden said, then paused and grunted as though exerting himself for several seconds. He sounded out of breath when he continued. “We’re holed up in the port elevator shaft just outside the command deck airlock. There are three of us at this position. Bull and the remaining marines are fighting the counterassault team at a position further down the shaft. I have no idea how that’s going. We’ve run out of room to retreat, so unless someone decides to open the hatch and let us onto the bridge, we’re sort of out of options.”

The last part of his sentence was almost drowned out by a massive wave of incoming gunfire in her office. Amos and his group were hunkered down, leaning against the reinforced armor they’d attached to the walls. The reports of the shots and the sound of bullets hitting metal was deafening. When the fire lessened, a pair of men in Behemothsecurity armor rushed the room, spraying automatic weapons fire as they came. Two of Amos’ team were hit, and more globes of red flew into the air. Amos grabbed the second man through the door and yanked him up off his magnetic hold to the floor, then threw him at his partner. They tumbled off across the room together and then Amos fired a long burst from his weapon into both as they spun. The air was filled with so many floating red orbs of various sizes that it became difficult to see. The rest of Amos’ team opened fire, and whatever attack Ashford’s people had launched was apparently driven back, as no more soldiers charged through the door.

“Is there anything we can do?” A

“Sounds to me like you’re in some shit there yourself, Preacher,” Holden replied. His voice was weary. Sad. “Unless you’ve got the bridge access controls nearby, I’d say you should concentrate on your own problems.”

More fire came through the offices, but it was sporadic. Amos had driven off their big attack, and now they were taking petulant potshots. Monica was staring at her, waiting for her to issue another order. Somehow, she’d become the person in charge.

“Set me to broadcast on the Radio Free Slow Zone feed,” A

“This is A

“So, please, if anyone listening to this can help, we need you. Everyone on this flotilla needs you. The people dying right outside your door need you. Most of all, the people we left behind on Earth and Mars and the Belt need you. If the captain does what he’s pla

She stopped, and Monica put down the camera.

“Think that will work?” Monica asked.

A

“Clarissa,” A

“I’m here, on the bridge. I’m in the security station. I was watching your broadcast.”

“Can you open the door and let our people in?”

“Yes.”

“Will you do that?”

“How,” Clarissa repeated, her tone not changing at all, “do you know what you said?”

A man generally regarded as the instigator of two solar system–wide wars got all this information from a protomolecule-created ghost that no one else can see. It wasn’t a particularly compelling argument.

“James Holden got it while he was on the station.”

“So hetold you that this would happen,” Clarissa said, her tone doubtful.

“Yes.”

“So how do you know?”

“I don’t, Claire,” A

There was a long moment of silence. Then a male voice said, “Clarissa, who are you talking to in here?”

It took A

“A

“Don’t listen to her,” Cortez said. “She’s just afraid.”

“Afraid?” A

“You’re afraid to make the necessary sacrifices to protect the people we’ve left behind. You’re only thinking of yourself,” he yelled back. A

“Clarissa,” A

“Don’t change the subject,” Cortez started.

“It’s Holden and Naomi out there,” A

“They wouldn’t be in danger if they hadn’t attacked Ashford’s rightful command,” Cortez said.

“That’s three people who all made the choice to give you a second chance,” A

“Those people are criminals—” Cortez tried to say over the top of her, but she kept her voice level and continued.

“These people, the people who forgive, who try to help others. The people who give their lives to save strangers, they’re on the other side of that door, dying. I don’t have to take that on faith. That’s fact. That’s happening right now.”

A

“Those are the people I’m asking you to help,” A

A

“I don’t like the idea of those people being killed any more than you do,” Cortez said. He sounded sad, but committed to his position. “But there is the necessity for sacrifice. To sacrifice is literally to be made sacred.”