Eighteen.

Babs looked in awe as the silicon-snow of Winterspace turned into a white blur.

“Wow, this ship is fast! We might even have a chance to outrun them!”

“Well,” smirked Krystof, “We didn't name her the Gilmore for nothing. We're not out of the woods yet, though – it's hard as hell to steer in here.”

He hastily pressed a few buttons and leaned sideways, narrowly dodging a large asteroid. “Darren, how are you holding up?”

Darren was typing frantically on a small keyboard. “I'm working as fast as I can, but calculating our trajectory in here is hard! All the snow is disturbing the readings. I have no idea where we're going!”

“It doesn't matter. Anywhere away from the Snowmen is a good direction.”

“What are they, really?”

“Nobody's sure, but they seem to be some kind of... artificial intelligence. They're made of the same material as the Snow, and whatever AI originally controlled them must have gone rogue or something. I heard Kendra studied their chemical make-up, she might know more... all she told me was, they've got some kind of a hive-mind.”

“Hive-mind? Wouldn't that mean-”

Abruptly, a large, crystalline needle floated up in front of them. Krystof's speedy reflexes saved them; a moment's slower reaction, and the Gilmore would have been skewered.

“That a Snowman ship?”

“Yes. I don't want to alarm you guys or anything but IT'S A TRAP!”

Krystof looked up – they were dodging straight into a Snowman ship. The next thing he knew, there was a loud crash, and everything went dark.