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I collapse back in the chair, hoping for Doc to protest, but we both know it’s true There’s not much room for art on Godspeed; I’h or Luthor will be able to find a productive way to contribute to the ship People likemore than provide some amusement for the real workers

Luthor’s more i is nothing compared to productivity

I laugh, a bitter, cracked sound daht

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sp; I can’t even sing, not now One day—soon, if Doc’s right—my vocal chords will heal

But could I ever really sing again? If Luthor says I can only ever sing for him, and he can do whatever he wants on this ship that values people based on what labor or skills they can provide, dare I ever make music?

“I ’ll start Luthor on hormone suppressants, ” Doc says in the silence “That should stop hisurges ”

But not his hands, his big, strong hands that choked the sound out of me, that popped the head off his sculpture, that held the razor-sharp scalpels he used to carve into clay, that he could use to carve into me

8

“ We’ll protect you,” Victria says Kayleigh, sitting on my bed, nods her head “If Doc won’t protect you, ill ”

“ What can you do?” I ask with a feeble laugh

Kayleigh and Victria exchange glances “The boys will help,” Kayleigh says “Harley and Bartie ”

“They don’t know me that well ”

“They’ll still help ”

I can see it now: a lifetime where I’ht of Kayleigh as a sometime friend and Victria as an occasional coround of irls are givingmore to them all