“But this is the question. Which will he be? When the door opens, will he lay down and die or tear your flesh for his feast?” Niska, EDEN

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Mal looked at him in shock, and time seemed to hang on a thread. Then his eyes changed, and he threw back his head and howled, a sound echoed from elsewhere in the complex as it ripped from Freya’s throat, feeling the murderous rage take hold.

Simon darted in, slapping the tiny hypo against his neck, narrowly avoiding Mal’s hooked fingers as he reached for something to tear limb from limb. As the drug entered his bloodstream he jerked, his teeth slamming together as his body went rigid, every tendon standing out against his neck, his fists so tight he was drawing blood from his palms.

“Sir?” Zoe asked, her hand ready to fire, to end her best and oldest friend if it didn’t work. “Mal?”

Everything seemed to slow around them and they were in a bubble, silent, waiting, aching with the tension. Then Mal went limp, as if his bones had turned to water. And time sat on the knife’s edge.

Simon moved forward to touch his neck, make sure Mal was still … then the captain took a shuddering breath.

“Mal?” Simon asked, reaching out even as Zoe took the slack out of her trigger.

“Doc?” Mal said, and suddenly the sound of the gunfight was all around them again.

“How do you feel?” the young man asked, putting his hand on Zoe’s gun and pushing it down.

“Like I got kicked by a mule. Or a whole gallon of Kaylee’s finest.” Mal struggled to sit up, then realisation broke on his face. “Was that …” He looked down at the hypo still in Simon’s fingers.

“Yes.” Simon allowed himself to breathe again. “The AntiPax works.”

“And it didn’t kill me.” Mal shook his head. “Helluva way to test it.” He went to pick up his gun from where he’d dropped it and noticed his hand was trembling.

“What was it like?” Simon asked before he could stop himself, then looked ashamed.

Mal paused, for one agonising moment reliving the feeling of a billion minds p