He followed his shadow, and it led him down silent corridors. He found himself before a large window. Beyond, he saw Earth, alone in the darkness of space. He placed his hands on the window, staring out. For one moment, Kit felt peace. It shattered with the approaching sound of footsteps, thundering a deadly march.
He was in the hangar bay.
Something distant and fleeting sparked, breaking through his conditioning. He stared at the space suit on the wall.
He found himself kicking off his pants, then pulling the suit on with ease. Each movement was familiar to him as he zipped up the side and tugged the tight material over his body—too snug, not fit for his bulk. The footsteps grew louder. He tuggedthe sleek, dark helmet over his head, staring through the tinted visor.
He turned to the panel on the wall. A small pod hissed open at his request. It was barely big enough for him. He sat quickly, pressing a small button as the hatch slid shut. The wailing alarms grew muffled. He was trapped with himself, suffocated.
The pod came to life around him.
"Navigation online," came a robotic, feminine voice. "Destination?"
With shaking hands, Kit dragged the restraints across his chest. "Earth," he said. "Solar City."
"Coordinates?" the ship prodded.
He did not know any coordinates.
His fingers twitched against his thigh. He did know something. He had a sudden memory of writing a birthday card to Vesperin, penning out the address and adding a crooked heart sticker in the corner of the envelope.
Kit recited the address to her childhood home.
"Address located. Converting to ground coordinates." There was a soft chime. "Trajectory located. Estimated time to surface impact: twenty-five minutes, seven seconds."
The pod lurched, and the force slammed Kit back into the seat as the launch system engaged. The pod was dropped into the chute, and metal groaned around him, before it was ejected into space.
He lifted slightly against the restraints, suspended. Until the internal gravity engaged and the thrusters ignited. He slammed down into the seat as the pod reoriented, angling toward Earth.
His breathing slowed as the Stars swept past him. Darkness flashed by as he soared through space, andpeacethreatened to break his carefully slow, automatic pattern of breathing.
"Descent vector stable. Atmospheric entry in ten… nine…"
Kit closed his eyes.
"Two… one."
The pod began to shake.
"Outer hull temperature exceeding optimal thresholds."
The edges of the viewport burned red and white. His fingers tightened over the restraints, but his expression did not change. If it was built by his makers, it would hold.
Heat licked at him, even through the temperature-regulated suit.
It did not matter. Nothing did. If he burned, he would burn for her.
The pod screamed as it tore through the sky, then Earth came fully into view.
Clouds replaced the streaks of fire through the viewport. Vast cities and bodies of water stretched beneath him.
The fire returned. Not from the pod, but from Earth itself, below him. It was burning.
Smoke rose, darkening the sky. Districts glowed, veins of destruction cutting through arching spires of buildings.
Fire devoured Earth.
18
