Page 96 of Enslak

My mouth was dry. I kept swallowing, but it didn't help.

"Niki." Enslak's voice pulled me back. "You're doing it again."

"Doing what?"

"That thing." He squeezed my hand. "Where you go somewhere in your head. Somewhere I can't follow."

I looked up at him. He was watching me with those gold eyes, concern written all over his face.

"I'm just—" I started, then stopped. No point lying to him. "I'm nervous."

"About Mother?"

"About all of it." I gestured vaguely at the corridor around us. "The Prime. The warrant. What they're going to say. What they're going to do to me, Binwee, and George."

We'd been on Avalon for two more weeks after Charick left. Long enough for Enslak's wounds to close. Long enough for me to run through every possible scenario of how this meeting could go.

Most of them ended badly.

Enslak had kept his promise about calling his mother. The third day after the Ulkommenian attack, when he could move without wincing, he'd sat down with the comm unit. He pulled me down beside him. Wouldn't let me leave.

"Stay," he'd said. Just that. Stay.

So I'd stayed.

I watched the Prime's face fill the screen. Watched her expression shift from cautious hope to something that looked like relief mixed with disbelief as she took in her son.

"Enslak." Her voice had cracked on his name.

"Mother." He'd squeezed my hand so hard I thought my bones might break. "I'm getting better. Every day."

They'd talked for over an hour. He told her about the memories returning. About the gaps that were still there but getting smaller. She'd listened. Wiped at her eyes. Asked gentle questions.

Never pushed.

When the call ended, Enslak had pulled me into his arms and just held me. For a long time.

Binwee's message had come on day nine. Prime wants to see you. All three of us. There was a warrant issued when they discovered Enslak missing. Don't worry—I think it'll be okay.

I think wasn't exactly reassuring.

We'd arrived yesterday. First order of business: the DNA tracker.

George had been waiting for us in the med bay, practically bouncing on his heels with that grin on his face—the one that meant he'd figured something out.

"It's not complicated," he'd said, pulling up a holographic display of Enslak's body. Tiny red dots scattered throughout like a constellation. "The tracker's embedded in his DNA structure. But it's not biological. It's tech. And tech can be scrambled."

I'd leaned forward, studying the display, my brain cataloging the pattern. The distribution. "How?"

"Targeted electromagnetic pulse." George's eyes had met mine. "I can rig something up with parts from the med bay and engineering. The Ulkommenian will never be able to hunt him again. Not through that tracker, anyway."

Something in my chest had loosened at that. "You're sure?"

"Positive. I've seen this kind of tracker before." His jaw had tightened. "The Trogvyk use similar tech for high-value prisoners."

He hadn't needed to say it. I knew what he meant.

Humans.