He goes on to explain the horrific sight onNautilus. No bloodbubbles to speak of—there, they suffered nosebleeds so swift and so devastating, not one crew member had had the chance to clean... anything.
Lie low.
Linger.
Explode.
The sickness we know took everyone out quickly, yes, but not all at once.
The sickness we know came with blood—sprinkles of it. Not rivulets.
What if this is not the sickness we know?
I glance at the cartful of SpaceLove supplies, at the suits Heath and Zesi have already shed. What if they’ve brought back a new strain? Anactualmutation?
“Lindley.Linds.”
I blink, find all three guys staring at me in slack-jawed concern.
“Did it not send up red flags,” I say, careful to keep my voice even, without accusation, without coming unhinged, “that you could be bringing a new strain of the virus right back to us? That we might not be immune to this one?” I squeeze my eyes shut, try not to panic.
“It’s not like we could just call and ask what you wanted us to do.” Zesi’s voice teeters on the brink of bitterness, of frustration. “We were already inside when we found them like that, and it was too late to undo it at that point, so we made a judgment call and went forward as planned. Might as well bring back something useful if we were going to come home at all.”
If we were going to come home at all.It’s easier to forgive when he puts it that way. Because he’s right, what else would they have done? Where else could they have gone?
It’s a risk, for sure, but Heath has always been the risk taker among us—big risk, big reward, especially when the risks have potential to protect the people he loves. I only hope this risk pays off.
I’m trying to pick out the perfect words—thank youfeels like too much and too little all at once—when Zesi runs a hand over his dreads, breaking the moment. “I’m taking a shower and then sleeping for a year,” he says. Heath could use a shower, too, but I don’t want to be the one to say so.
Turns out I don’t have to, though. “Come find us at six tonight if we’re not around yet,” Heath says. “Can the filters wait until then? If you still want us to use them, that is?” His eyelids are heavy now that he doesn’t have to be on high alert.
We already have the filters, and I can’t see how going forward with the installation will change anything now—ifLuscawas going to be contaminated with a new strain, it happened the second they entered the airlock. It has an automatic decontam feature built in, but that didn’t kill the first virus—whyshould I expect it to be any different with a new strain?
“We’ll do the installation as planned,” I say. “Later today.” Normally, I’d want to knock it out as soon as possible, but I think we could all use some time to uncoil. “We’ve waited this long—go get some rest.”
And then it’s just Leo and me, like we started this day. Alone together.
We meet eyes, and I wonder if we’ll pick up where we left off—I want to, but the problems of the day are already creeping in to poke pins in my heart.
“You look like you could use a break, too, Linds.” He plants a soft kiss on my forehead, and another on my lips, like he’s trying to erase the ones Heath left on me. “Get some rest and meet back at six?”
I nod, caught off guard by the tears filling my eyes. It isn’t Leo, it’s just... everything. Too many emotions, too many extremes.
A break would be nice. A break is necessary.
“Buzz if you need me?” I say.
But Leo shakes his head. “Turn it off, just for today. It’s not even a full day—not even ahalfday. I’ll knock on your door at a quarter to six, and we’ll go from there.”
It’s an offer too tempting to refuse. It’s noteasy—not easy at all to take this step back, to purposefully put myself in the dark, especially in light of the hard truths I’ve uncovered today. I press the power button, hold it down until my buzz screen goes dark.
“I’ll take care of things,” Leo says. “I promise.”
I’ll take care ofyou, I hear.
Today is not for leaps of faith, but for the small first steps of it.
42
