Page 60 of The Lottery

The way he says my name makes me tremble with excitement. “But, beyond this moment…” We won’t always have seven-minute stretches where the rest of society has to lock down for an emergency landing. What’s our plan for the next time we find ourselves overcome with lust? And the time after that? And the time after that?

He looks into my eyes for a long moment, then pulls me up to face him. I had every intention of finishing what I started, but it seems Marek wants some face time before we land.

He holds my hands, gently kissing them both before he speaks. “Azalea,” he says, as he rubs his thumbs softly over the top of my knuckles. “I do not know what will happen to us when we land on Mars. If we will even survive.”

I snort. “You suck at pep talks.”

He rolls his eyes. “This is not a pep talk. It is a heart talk.”

Well, shit. That’s stupidly romantic and leaves me speechless.

I shut my mouth and wait for him to continue, but before he gets a chance the ship jerks and I fall into him.

“This is the captain speaking,” Elspeth’s voice is piped through the intercom. “I need everyone to buckle up and lock down. The ship is fine but we’re passing through a dust storm and then our landing will be… tricky.”

My eyes widen and I stare at Marek. “What does this mean? Are we crashing?” I know it’s a real possibility, but it feels entirely different hearing it spoken out loud by the captain.

He pulls me into a hug and I lean my head against his chest and squeeze myself closer to him.

“Elspeth could land on a single grain of rice. I trust her. Let us buckle up as she said, and prepare.”

We both adjust our clothing then he moves to the wall and presses a button. A leather loveseat folds out with descending shoulder harnesses above.

“Metis,” Marek says. “Equip all rooms for emergency landing. Override if needed.”

“Understood.”

A moment later, cupboards and pantries are covered up, locked, sealed, and shut in.

“Metis will do the same for my room?” I ask, knowing the answer but not wanting to be presumptuous. I’m not worried about anything except my tree. The same tree Marek was worried about when deciding whether or not to save all of our lives.

He nods, then helps me to my seat and pulls down the restraint, locking it into place when it’s snug against my breast. It’s a little awkward over my ballgown, but there are more important things to worry about.

He buckles himself in next, then takes my hand in his.

“Now what?” I ask.

“Now we wait for Elspeth to work her magic.”

I lean back, squeezing his hand more tightly.

It is indeed a rough ride. I’m thankful we don’t have windows, because I’d hate to see the tornadoes of dust assaulting our ship. It’s a good thing Marek has a strong hand, because I grip the life out of it every time the turbulence feels like it’s going to rip the walls off and leave us all for dead.

The longer the descent lasts, the more my mind plays out every possible awful outcome to this landing.

They all involve us dying. Slowly, quickly, doesn’t matter. All death.

I take a deep breath as I realize I’m spiraling into anxious thoughts.

Marek looks down at me. “You have the worry wrinkle between your eyes.”

I playfully nudge him. “I have wrinkles, huh? Thanks.”

He grins. “You know I do not mean to insult. To have wrinkles is not a horror. It is an honor. It is the map of a life well-lived. The lines on the skin of the elderly are proof of wisdom earned through years. My heart will not waver from yours because of a few lines. I will cherish each one. My only hope is that those stories, those memories, have room for me.”

Emotion clogs my throat. “How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

---