Holden nodded. “All right. I had to ask.”
“No problem,” Amos said.
Holden scratched Muskrat one last time. A little cloud of hair floated free, the strands clinging together in complex webs and drifting toward the air recycler. “I see what you mean. Alex is starting our braking burn in twenty-five, thirty minutes.”
“I’ll make this all safe by then,” Amos said.
Holden pulled himself to the door. As he was about to leave, Amos’ voice pulled him back.
“One thing, though?”
He braced in the doorway. Amos’ eerie black eyes were on him. “Sure.”
“Those things that Duarte pissed off? The ones that ate Medina?”
“I know the ones you mean,” Holden said.
“One of the things I know now is that they’re going to kill everybody.”
They were silent for a moment.
“Yeah,” Holden said. “I know that too.”