Page 132 of Carousel

Ephraine leers over him. “Up the amount of osimidite next time, Dezeeves, will you? If I hear her say that name one more time…”

Dezeeves has taken my arm. He helps me out of my seat and over to the door. I’m glad I have him. I can hardly put one unsteady leg in front of the other.

I probe Dezeeves again, because maybe he didn’t hear me. “Dezeeves,” I say. “Can we? Go to him now?” I grip his spindly arm through his leather sleeve tighter.

“I think,” he starts in a stunted voice, as if speaking to a child, “The only place for you to go, right now, is your cabin.”

He opens the door.

Riss and Drake are waiting. I’m happy to see them.

I’m light as air.

But Cosmer is not here.

I’m pushed through the door, which is then swiftly slammed shut behind me.

“Ara,” Riss says, lurching towards me. “What in Cosmos happened in there? They said on the radio Cosmer’s in the brig⁠—”

I’m laughing, tears in my eyes.

“It’s awful,” I say. “He has so many charges. He’ll be executed.”

I stagger over to Drake. Sort of fall into him, but his strong arms catch me. I inhale his scent, deeply. It’s calming me more than the osimidite.

“We have to go,” I say, pounding his chest with my fist, because why isn’t he reacting to what I’m trying to tell him? “Don’t you understand? You saw Chapp’s trial. Cosmer won’t stand a chance. You have to break him out. We could take his ship. Run. Another country. All of us.”

“What’s wrong with her?” Riss snaps.

Drake leans in, eyes flickering between mine. I squint back at him. He’s swaying. Or maybe I am. I grip his shoulders tighter.

He frowns. “They’ve given her osimidite.”

“You’re joking.”

I finally ease out of his grip. Turn to Riss.

“This is all my fault,” I tell her. “I love him. But he should never have met me. And now he’ll be executed.”

Her grey eyes are enormous. Her palm flies to her forehead.

“Cosmos. How are we going to deal with this? She wants us to break him out of the brig? She loves him?” She lets out a strained, funny laugh. “She’s huffed out of her mind. And I don’t even know whose keeper I’m supposed to be now⁠—”

“I can tell you the answer to that,” a voice behind us says.

Meg is stepping through the doorway. She lets the door close, then leans against the wall.

“You’re Drake’s keeper. Officially,” she states. “Dezeeves just confirmed that.”

Riss waves a hand over me. “And the huffed-up Girl in Love? Who’s her keeper going to be?”

“That would be me,” she replies. “So, you don’t need to worry a single hair on your little head about any of this.”

Riss’ mouth drops.

“FIs can’t be keepers.”

Meg waves an Integration book she’d been holding. It has Drake’s name on the spine. “Dezeeves just made me one,” she says, shrugging. “So, looks like they can. Shall we switch?”