He saw the bottoms of McCallister’s feet against the grate, motionless. It looked like he was sleeping, his head hanging, his mouth open. His face was somewhat hidden in the shadows inside the trunk, but Pete could see that he looked haggard, exhausted. His uniform had been ripped, like Pete’s. The captain awoke with a start. “Pete!” he said, overjoyed to see him. He jumped down on his hands and knees so his face was against the grate. “Are you alone?” “I am,” he said. “I knew you’d be back,” he said. “You’ve got to get me out of here.” “I’m trying … to figure out what’s going on.” “Do that,” he said. “Keep your head up. You can’t trust anyone right now.” “Can I trust you?” Finn looked stricken. “Of course,” he said. “How much do you know about my orders?” The captain looked confused. “Everything that I could read,” he said. “And what you told me after I read them, when you came on board. You said the Alliance had identified this epidemic as a massive threat, not just to the war effort, but to humanity.
