After this morning's power line sweep, Jinx follows me to the water wheel for a diagnostic check on the generator, a stainless steel box, powder-coated hunter green, that comes up to my waist. With snowflakes falling and piling up on the unit, I open the side panel to access the touchscreen controls. First, I run an automated system check that turns up nothing unusual. Then, to verify the generator is operating like it should, Jinx hooks up to the unit and performs his own diagnostic check. He used to do this from the mainframe computer in the cabin, but since Jude's virus kicked him out of the system, he has to connect down at the river.

The generator is the most crucial component of our survival. With the water wheel turning a shaft that Jinx coupled to the turbine inside the machine, the energy transfer keeps the lights on, especially in the labs. Which means the artificial wombs keep churning out animals, and in six months, the first round of humans.

With our power supply running like it should, we take our patrol along the riverbank, heading west toward the rocket ship. I have a plan, and I'll need Jinx's help to get what I want.

Huge snowflakes fall straight to the ground with little or no wind, but some collide with my face, icing my cheeks as they miss my parka's fur-lined hood. My breath puffs out in foggy clouds and fades to nothing. It reminds me how brief our lives will be if we don't figure out a way to outsmart and outmaneuver the snow lions or whatever else might lurk in the white shadows of Mount Joffre. So far, our patrol turns up nothing. No paw prints or other signs of vile creatures. But the steady snowfall erases everything, anyway.

We need to outsmart more than the local wildlife. We must be a step ahead of anyone who doesn't have our best interests at heart. Cain and Jezebel wanted to use us for their benefit, and we didn't see their trap coming until it was too late. We hope to avoid pitfalls like that in the future. After all, it is our future at stake. Check that. It's the future of all humanity.

I trudge through the tree line to where a narrow trail skims the side of a cliff face. It's the same trail we used to carry our supplies from Cain's ship to the cave where we built the cabin. It seemed wider and safer back then, but I'm sure it's because it hadn't snowed yet. Now, as I walk across it, it's treacherous, especially with the steep drop off which plunges straight down to the valley below.

I brace myself against the cliff face, feeling more confident the farther I go. But halfway across, the ground shakes and tilts sideways beneath my feet. I stumble forward and fall flat on my face as the mountain pulses around me like it's about to collapse in a giant landslide. Rocks of all sizes tumble from above. Jinx takes a hard knock and shifts away from the cliff, hovering over open space.

As rocks pelt me, I sink my gloves into the snow and dig for dirt, for purchase, something to hold on to. A small rock smacks the back of my head and my world goes woozy. When I think the mountain won't stop shaking, it does, and as I find my bearings, Jinx slides in above me with a whoosh of air.

"Are you okay?" he asks, scanning a blue light over my body. Within seconds, he announces his diagnosis. "You don't have any life-threatening injuries, but you have a bump forming on the back of your head."

"Yeah." I push up and brush myself off, wobbling on my feet. "I took a direct hit."

"Only a minor contusion and no skull fractures."

I gather myself, the wooziness fading as I take in the surrounding scene. Rocks of different sizes litter the narrow trail, but the path ahead seems stable. "Let's move on. I don't want to be standing on this ledge when another quake hits."

As we continue our journey, I consider calling to check on Eve. Normally, Jinx can contact her via the computer back at the cabin, but since he's locked out of the system, he can't. We have hand radios, but when I reach for it, I discover the falling rocks had cracked the digital screen and smashed the speaker on the side. When I test it, it doesn't work. Jinx suggests since we're over halfway to the ship, we can reach it, and then call her using the comm system. With that in mind, we push harder, leaving the narrow ledge behind, trekking down a steep slope to the ship's small landing area, high above the valley floor and the river that snakes through the territory.

As we forge along with the nose cone of the silver-bullet spacecraft coming into view, an aftershock shakes the ground beneath us. It lasts a few seconds and then dissipates. Then, as we draw closer, with more of the ship becoming visible, a third rumble rattles the earth. Each successive quake becomes less intense and has a shorter duration. By the time I see the full body of the rocket ship, the rumbles are gone, but thoughts of more quakes make me turn to Jinx for an analysis.

"Without a doubt," he says. "The Yellowstone Super Volcano has become more unstable, but the earthquakes here are milder than at the habitat."

"So the volcano hasn't destroyed the hab yet?" I assume this from the way Jinx described the situation further south.

"The quakes have hit the habitat hard, but it's still operational."

"Do you have a timeline for a full scale eruption?"

As we approach the ladder leading up to the ship's cargo bay, the drone faces me. "Based on historic eruptions, along with standard calculations, comparing this information with Yellowstone's current seismic activity, my deduction is that an eruption is imminent."

I stop at the ladder. "As in anytime, any day?"

"That is correct. Or it could be weeks, months, years. Nothing is one hundred percent when predicting volcanic eruptions."

"So, we could die any day?"

"That is correct."

I swallow an enormous lump.

Although aware of the possibilities, I had hoped for a respite. With the dire forecast driving a dagger into my optimism, I put a foot and hand to the ladder and start climbing as Jinx takes the simple route by rising on jets of compressed air. I could wait until he gets to the cargo bay for him to send the platform lift down to me, but I don't feel like waiting. Maybe it's the news about the likelihood of our sudden demise, or the impatient need to call Eve and see if she's okay. She'll be worried as much as I am. My inability to contact her adds to my tension, an uneasiness churning in my stomach as I take the ladder in stride.

The instant I reach the cargo bay, Jinx has the doors open, and with help from his mechanical hand, he gives me a lift to come aboard the ship. I ignore the tracer craft that's strapped to the floor of the inner hold, nudging past the drone, and climbing the next ladder leading up into the bridge. I remember this section from our earlier travels: the crash-chairs, the sophisticated dashboard, and the video screens linked to the internal and external cameras. The ship was state-of-the-art until I stripped it bare.

The cabin and all its memories distract me: thoughts of Cain and me scrambling for control of a gun, and Eve fighting Jezebel. But a voice in my head urges me to hurry and contact Eve. As I climb the inset notches on the port side, drawing near the pilot chair, my heart hammers like someone's driving thumbtacks into my chest. A tiny but steady pattering.

I fall into the seat and allow Jinx to automate the controls on the dashboard. Without the chair angling back for blastoff position, but tilted toward the ship's computer system as if I'm sitting parallel to the ground, I feel like I'm leaning forward, but in reality, I'm sitting as if in a chair at home. Just my face is inches from the main video screen.

Jinx activates the dashboard and little lights power up. In front of me, the screen boots up too.

"Waiting for startup to finish," Jinx says. "Completed. Signaling Eve via video link."

Within seconds, her grimacing cheeks and twisted lips, along with her frightened eyes, appear on the screen. "Noah. Are you okay? I've been worried sick, pacing the floor. Calling you on the radio with nothing but static. I stood on the porch, hollering for you, for what seemed like an hour."

"I'm sorry. I'm fine. We added a supply run to the ship and were over halfway here when the quake hit." I retell our experience on the narrow trail when it all went down, including the detail about my damaged hand radio. "I called you first thing after I got here."

She blows steam from her lips. Takes a deep breath and runs a hand through her hair. "I'm just glad you're okay." Her brow furrows. "Why did you go to the ship? What supplies? I thought we emptied it out."

"We did, but I... I wanted to..." I frown and glance down. "Let me backtrack."

"What are you doing there, Noah?" Her brows arch even more. "Spill it."

"It was a spontaneous thing. After we cleared the power line and checked on the generator, I thought I'd extend the scout perimeter out to the ship searching for threats." A tiny bending of the truth.

"But that's not the only reason you're there."

"No." I wag my head. "I thought about using the ship's computer to look up information about Jude. Truthfully, I planned on coming here the whole time."

Eve frowns.

"I wanted to see if I could find any clues about who he is. I figured he knows about Cain, so maybe Cain had something on him."

She perks up. "Like some dirt?"

"Anything really." My eyes wander, struggling to look back at the screen and Eve's furrowed brows, to see if conditions have improved. Finally, I make the leap. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine. The cabin shook pretty bad, but no damage here." She tilts her head, looking at me with a softer gaze. "Whatever you have to do, do it, but share it with me. I still want to hear more from this Jude guy, and I know you're hesitant, that your loyalty is to Abraham, but whatever we do, we do it together."

"I don't know what I was thinking. Guess I thought you might not approve of me doing some digging."

"No worries. Just let me know what you find." A baby cries out in the background. It sounds like Ash. "I have to go. Be careful coming home."

"Will do."

Knowing Eve is safe makes me feel much better.

When the screen returns to the ship's computer interface, I crack my knuckles and start pressing tabs on the touchscreen. Most of what I see is control oriented related to the engines, life support, and other functions, but there is one tab, labeled Ship Notes, that catches my attention. I skim back and forth through various selections until I find a pathway containing files.

I shift in the pilot's chair, uncomfortable with the angle of my forehead, right next to the screen.

The file names make me gnaw on my bottom lip, eyes zipping side to side, reading, almost holding my breath. Two files interest me the most. One is a person's name, and the other, a company name.

Ziva Adams and Lucent Technologies.

But access to both files requires retinal scans, and mine doesn't work.

I release a frustrated sigh. I feel that if I could read those files, I might find some valuable information on somebody, but at face value, it only gives me more questions, and Jinx can't override the retinal scan security. He tells me there's a failsafe that would delete the files if he tried. After another probe into the computer system to see if I missed anything, I give up.

Who knows? Both files could be worthless to us.

During the journey back, I do a lot of thinking and decide to contact Jude. Maybe pressing him for more information will get him to reveal something important. Something to help us decide. When I walk through the cabin door and embrace Eve, I share my decision with her. She's good with it, so I send the message, asking for more details about this glorious future Jude has in mind for us. I feel nervous as I hit send, but once it's done, all we can do is wait.