“Jonah, come on,” Sparrow urged, all of the playfulness gone from his voice and posture.

Jonah nudged me in front of him. “Let’s go, Special K. You, too, Analeigh.”

We followed the pirates back through the fence, then jogged through deserted back alleys, hugging buildings and making little noise crossing the glass paved roads and sidewalks, until we reached one of the four docking portals. Three dockmasters lay sprawled in a heap, their electric-blue uniformed limbs tangled together. Snores emanated from at least one of them, so I assumed they were all alive—either dosed with a sleeping draught or stunned into unconsciousness.

We stepped over them one at a time. Teach and Jean went first, followed by the flirtatious Sparrow, then Analeigh and me, with Jonah going last. We tramped in hurried silence through the air lock and then onto the air bridge that connected the pirates’ ship to Roma. The air changed subtly, turned colder, as we left the terraform behind and hung suspended in a tube over empty space.

We stepped through a dented metal door and into a second air lock. Jonah slammed the outer hatch into place and turned the lock, and once the oxygen light above the interior door flicked from red to yellow to green, we stepped onto the ship.

Which, no matter what my brother said, was a junker.

Rust spots dotted the cargo bay floor, leaving brownish red splotches across the faded blue metal. Stairs rose to a second level, a thin, wobbly-looking railing accompanying them. Sealed containers littered the bay, filled with stars knew what, and a rack draped with stunners and wavers hung on one wall. The smell in the air reminded me of mildew and spoiled dairy.

“This is a piece of crap,” Analeigh said, somewhat accusingly.

“Hey. Do not insult my baby. She flies with the best of them,” Jonah snapped.

“Some of us are about more than a pretty face,” Jean joked, elbowing Sparrow in the ribs.

“Jonah’s pickier when it comes to the faces on his fleshy ladies. Not that any of them can hold a candle to Anne Bonny,” Sparrow replied.

“Anne Bonny?” I asked, shooting my brother a look.

He shrugged, a slight pink tingeing his cheeks. “That’s her name. The ship.”

“Okay, well, Jonah, go ahead and have a little chat with your pretty sister. I’m going to get this gorgeous bucket of rust in the air before we get busted and have to really test her engines.”

Sparrow started for the stairs, and I turned to Analeigh. “Why don’t you go with them and check out the bridge.”

“But—”

“Please, Analeigh. I’ll be ten minutes talking to Jonah and then we’ll go back.”

She checked her watch, frowning. “Ten minutes, Kaia. Breakfast is in twenty.”

I nodded and turned, catching Jonah whispering something to Jean, his eyes on Analeigh as she started for the steps. Teach held out a hand to her but Analeigh ignored it, climbing the swaying staircase unassisted.

My brother jerked his head and Jean followed, leaving the two of us alone in the cargo hold. Jonah watched until Analeigh and his friends disappeared, a strange twist of emotion on his handsome face. It disappeared as he turned back to me.

He heaved a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You can’t go around using that cuff whenever you feel like it, Kaia. Not only could you get seriously sanctioned, but if the Elders traced you right now you’d be putting my life in danger. Is that what you want?”

“Of course not. Not that you considered our family’s safety when you decided to go all space cowboy.” I sank down on an unmarked wooden crate and pulled my knees into my chest.

Pain and guilt flooded his face. It felt good to push my anger where it belonged, but we didn’t have much time to beat around the bush, even if that had ever been our style.

I shrugged and waved a hand, cutting off whatever stammered apology he was working on. “How did you know it was safe to warn Rosie Shapiro?”

The shocked silence confirmed my suspicions.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he managed, not even bothering to put any force behind the lie.

“I found your True Companion card with the cuff and did some research. Rosie Shapiro was on the original victims’ list. She jumped from an eighth-floor window and died on that street. And yet, when we observed yesterday morning, she claimed illness and left the building around four-thirty, less than fifteen minutes before the fire broke out.” I stopped talking, mesmerized by the sight of the blood draining from Jonah’s face. I reached out and touched his hand, almost surprised that he let me. “It’s okay, Jonah. I know you saved her. How did you know it wouldn’t blow up the future?”

He chuckled. “Well, the Cubs did end up winning the pennant in 1956 because of me.”

“That’s not funny. What if it had been something worse?”

“There’s not much worse if you’re a Cards fan.”

“Jonah.”

“Why are you so interested in Rosie?” He peered into my face, dark eyes serious a moment before everything clicked into place. “I missed your birthday. Who is he?”

“No one. Someone who died young that didn’t have to.”

“Ah, yes. The Vespasians and their tragic loves. Have you met him?”

My cheeks heated up, giving me away. His eyes widened a little before a proud grin snuck onto his face. “My little sister, the rebel. And now that you know I saved Rosie’s life you want to know if you can save … ?”

“I’m not telling you who he is.”

The teasing grin slipped from his face as he studied the determined set of my jaw. “There are things that go on in this System that you’re not privy to, little sister. If you’re lucky, you’ll never know they exist.”

“Did the Elders find out what you did with Rosie? Is that the reason you left?”

Our eyes locked. The accusatory tone in my voice banged off the walls of the cargo bay, barely tempered by the tinge of hurt I tried to hide. We didn’t have time for this now, my pain. It wouldn’t lie quiet, though, after building up all of these years.

“It’s one of them.” He raked a hand through his too-long hair, leaving it unkempt in its wake. I used to give him haircuts; Jonah said he preferred my steady hands to the grooming booths at the Academy. “I know I hurt you when I left, Special K, and that’s the last thing I wanted. But I’m still your big brother, and it’s my job to protect you. Three years ago that meant leaving the Academy, and the System. Right now, that means telling you to keep your head down and stop asking questions about whether it’s possible to change the past. And be careful who you trust.”

“You’re not going to tell me why?”

“People who know why tend to disappear, one way or another. You deserve better.”

“Then why should I trust you?”

He tried to hide the pain in his golden eyes, but it spun me around like a good slap anyway. Guilt welled up in my chest, bubbling like lava, but I didn’t back down. I wanted answers. I wanted to know how he’d known the Cubs’ pennant would be the biggest fallout of Rosie’s existence. More than anything, I wanted the truth about why he left me behind.

The staring contest that followed ended in a draw, which didn’t surprise me since I’d never won with Jonah my entire life.

“Wait here for a second,” he said, leaving the cargo bay through a door at the back without waiting for my response. He returned a minute later and passed me a tiny metal chip the size and shape of the fingernail on my pinkie. Two long wire antennae, as thin and soft as strands of hair, sprouted from the top.

“What is it?”

“Technology a friend at the Academy developed for me when I went after Rosie. It hurts like a bitch, but if you jam it in the edge of your wrist tat, right there—” he touched a spot in the center of the outer, straight edge—“it holds your location until you take it out. You insert it in your dorm room, you’ll appear to be in your dorm room until you take it out. Remove it when you get back, though, because they’ll notice if you’re static too long on the locator floor.”