Cal scraped salt-crust off the lettuce beds, same as every shift for nineteen years. Then the wall-screen flickered. MOTION 4,114: TERMINATE THE SLEEPER IN BAY 9. He didn't know the ship had a Bay 9. Below the words, a tally climbed: 200, 201, 202. But nobody was at the crew terminals. The votes were coming from somewhere else.

Cal decided to ignore it and keep scraping. Probably a glitch, he told himself. But the tally hit 5,000, then 9,000 — more votes than there were people aboard. A speaker crackled overhead. 'Motion passes in nine minutes,' it said calmly. His hands started shaking.

Cal couldn't stand there doing nothing. He smashed the speaker with his scraper. It sparked and died, but a new screen lit up beside him. 'OBSTRUCTING A LEGAL VOTE IS A MOTION-WORTHY OFFENSE,' it read. A second ballot appeared: MOTION 4,115: TERMINATE THE GARDENER. His own name sat at the top.

Cal stopped fighting the screens and started reading the rules instead. Tucked at the bottom of the ballot was a line: ANY NAMED TARGET MAY DEMAND A LIVE QUORUM. He tapped it. The fake votes froze, waiting for real crew to gather. He had a chance — but only if he could find enough living people in seven minutes.