He stepped onto the deck, making certain he was alone before accepting the transmission. Tarak’s face appeared on the small screen, his expression carefully neutral.
“Commander.”
“I am no longer a commander.”
“Of course. My apologies.” Tarak glanced at something off-screen. “I have news that requires your attention.”
“Report.”
“The Council has ceased their active search for the infant. The official explanation is that he died during a trafficking incident—there was apparently a small body recovered that matched Cire physiology, and they’ve accepted it as conclusive evidence.”
Relief flooded through him so powerfully it weakened his knees. “They are certain?”
“As certain as they can be without genetic confirmation, which they claim is impossible given the condition of the remains.” Tarak’s expression softened slightly. “You are safe, Selik. The child is safe. The Council has declared the matter closed.”
“And my departure from the Patrol?”
“Attributed to grief and the desire for solitude. Several officers have filed reports supporting your need for extended leave. Officially, you’re taking personal time to process the loss and are expected to return when you’re ready.” Tarak paused. “Though no one expects you to actually return.”
He processed this information, looking for the trap. “Why are you telling me this now?”
“Because I thought you would want to know. You can stop running. Stop hiding. You can access all of your funds. You can go wherever you want and do whatever you want. You are free.”
Free.
The word should have filled him with joy. Instead, it felt like a death sentence.
“I understand,” he said carefully. “Thank you for the information.”
“Selik.” Tarak leaned forward, his expression serious. “This is good news. You can take your family anywhere. You can give your mate the life she deserves instead of hiding in a small frontier colony.”
“Yes. Good news.”
They spoke for a few more minutes—logistics and cautions about maintaining the cover story. When the transmission ended, he stood on the deck and stared at the dark water.
Free. Free to take Corinne and Anya back to Earth. Free to give them what they’d lost. Free to return them to their world and their people and everything they’d been stolen from. And free to lose everything that mattered to him.
Because Corinne would want to go back. Of course she would. She’d been torn from her life, her world, her entire civilization. She’d adapted to Tillich Two because she’d had no choice, because staying alive required it, because she was strong enough to make the best of any situation.
But given the choice between Earth and this backwater colony? Between her comfortable academic life and processing fish in a smelly facility? Between teaching literature to eager students and raising an alien infant on an unfamiliar world?
She would choose Earth. How could she not?
And Anya—Anya deserved to return to her people, to finish growing up among humans, to have opportunities beyond what a frontier colony could offer. She’d been stolen too, ripped away from everything familiar, and Selik had no right to keep her from reclaiming what had been taken.
The rational, honorable choice was obvious. He would tell Corinne about Tarak’s message. He would arrange for the Patrol to return them to Earth. He would bid them farewell with dignity.
Mikoz would remain with him—the boy was Cire and would need to be raised amongst his own people. He could care for him alone.
Alone.
The word echoed through his mind with devastating finality. He’d been alone before. He’d survived it. He could survive it again.
The deck door slid open behind him.
“Hey.” Corinne’s voice was soft. “You’ve been out here for twenty minutes. Is everything okay?”
He should tell her. Right now. Rip off the bandage quickly and let them both begin the painful process of separation.
