“If this works,” I say slowly, twisting the coupling into place, “You could come with me.”
He freezes.
His jaw works. His eye ticks once.
And then… nothing.
No response.
Juststillness.
That answer is enough.
I sigh and press the panel back into place. “You’re really gonna stay behind, huh?”
Nothing again.
But his silence is thunderous.
I finish up, pack my tools, and sit there for a minute—knees drawn up, staring at the sand like it might spell out something useful. Like maybe the universe could throw me a bone for once.
He stands.
I look up.
Our eyes meet—and ithurts. The way he looks at me. Like I’m already gone. Like I was never his to keep.
“If I don’t make it through the portal,” I say, voice thin, “You get that data stick back to Earth. It’s encoded to transmit to my sister. You’ll know what to do.”
His jaw clenches. “I’m not delivering your corpse.”
“Then don’t let me die,” I snap.
His lips twitch. “Fair.”
We stare at each other a little longer.
He turns, disappears into the shadows of the prep tents.
I stand there, heart thudding like I’ve run ten miles.
That night, I sit alone on the edge of the crawler bay, legs dangling off the side, the wind tugging at my hair. The sandstorms have gathered in the distance—red-black clouds swirling like demons, lightning dancing in their bellies. It’s beautiful. And terrifying.
Like everything about this planet.
I think about Kel. About his laugh, the soft weight of him against my chest, the way his fingers always seek mine in the dark.
And I think about Kyldak. The way he fought for me. The way he bled. The way he held still and let me take what I needed without a single question.
He’s too much. And never enough.
I might never see him again after this.
I might not survive the crossing.
Hell, I might not evenreachthe ruins.
But the plan is locked. The engines are fueled. The course is set.
