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Lucca suspected that the pirate barely factored into his rush to leave. He’d simply wanted to leave period, ASAP, and she’d let him drag her into it.
She was never getting home at this rate…
Lucca snapped pictures from the dark and quiet hallway that curved around her ship, then scrolled through her growing album.
There was her first picture of the planet Earth from above. She was giving it the middle finger, and she’d posted it online to mock her ex, right before losing internet connection forever. He could never reach her again, never ruin her life. Flipping the whole blasted planet off had no consequences.
Featured in a number of shots was the disco ball that had occupied party life on the Aerinus—under a pile of laundry in Tyler’s cabin, in Lucca’s work chair, crammed down a narrow space toilet. That ball was a celebrity, passed around her friend group like a custody baby until it grew dull with abuse.
She had pictures of the Selkie, and pictures of the bizarrely shaped things she’d passed on her way in.
She wantedmorepictures,neededmore pictures, and as she scrolled to the end, she was struck by the acute sense that there weren’t enough in her album. Not nearly enough to keep that invasive emptiness at bay.
What was she feeling—detached? The things inside her camera seemed no closer than the forbidding planet beyond her window, cut off from her by an impenetrable pocket of nothingness.
Outer space left her feeling like a ghost. She had all the proof in her hands that a bright, lively universe existed—but none of it convinced her thatshewas real.
Caligher announced himself over the intercom speakers, voice bouncing around her in the darkened hallway. He had finally found his destination—a pool of magma he planned to bathe in.
“You should be down here, Lucca,” he said in a scratchy voice. Persistent. Fucking persistent.
“I can’t.”
“What if I offered to fill your tanks with fuel?”
“Would you top me off?” she asked.
He’d been giving her small stipends—enough to keep her hooked, but not quite enough to let her flee the whole star system as if he knew that was exactly what she’d do. She was beginning to think this was calculated. Slowly wear her down with gifts and favors until she gave him everything.
And then?
She’d see if he sang the same tune when he learned the truth.
“Sure, Lucca. It’s freely available. All you have to do is fly your little ship down.”
Wandering her halls at a listless pace, she stopped by the kitchen to fix herself a drink. Vodka distilled from Ternetzi lab-grown roots and some watered-down bubbly substance. Thank god the aliens liked alcohol—and thank Caligher for thinking he could buy her affection with gifts. It was working…
“No response to that?” he asked.
“I want the fuel…”
“Then what’s the problem?”
She stared at the dark ceiling details absently, slurping her fizzy cocktail. One of the overhead power lines had warped and needed work. “I can’t come down,” she said.
“Too hot for you?”
“Mmhm.”
“Hmm.”
Seconds later, her system chimed with a notification. The terminal on the kitchen wall flashed and curiosity drew her over. He’d sent pictures of Sanmantia’s surface.
It was stunning and glorious and harsh—everything she would never drink in with her own two eyes, and damn, what a depressing thought. Dark spires reached up from the foothills to the turbulent heavens, creating a vast, apocalyptic skyline that moved her heart. There were patches of smog laced with ribbons of crystalline color. She felt a salty wave of emotion at the back of her throat.
“This is gorgeous,” she croaked, second-guessing her reluctance to join him—even if it burned her to death. Wouldn’t it be worth it?
“Sanmantia is where I was born,” he said with a touch of pride. Made sense.
