“What are you going to do?” I ask him. “When we reach Earth?”
“If,” he reminds me. “And I have plans…” He looks toward Padgett, who’s quietly letting Gem braid her hair. Padgett glances up, and they lock eyes. Smiling inside their gazes.
Someone is unsteady, making more noise than the rest of us. I look over and see Stork trying to right himself up to a stance with just one arm. Zimmer and Franny help, and when he’s on solid feet, he aims for Mykal.
FORTY-TWO
Mykal
My baby brother is a mess. Pale and sickly and stumbling about. I have to catch him before he goes careening into the MEU station.
We both sink down to the ground, resting our backs against the paneled wall. “You coulda waved me over,” I whisper to him. “Instead of standing and walking about.”
“Yeah, but I wanted to speak to my brother alone.” He flashes a smile at my confusion. He’s never called me his brother. Never admitted to our relation out loud. “And just so you know,” he adds, “I’m technically younger, but not by much.”
I shake my head, letting my lips lift. “You don’t act only a bit younger than I. You’re still more of ababybrother.”
He laughs lightly. “I lost an arm protecting you.”
“Yeh, you have a point.” I glance at his bandaged wound, more gruesome than any injury I’ve had.Protecting me.I’ll never be forgetting. “Are you all right?”
Stork takes a bigger breath. “It feels like… I will be.” He swallows hard. “But I didn’t come over here to argue with you about who’s older.” Carefully, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small earring identical to the sapphire blue jay that dangles from his own ear.
“This was Moura’s,” he tells me. “Your birth mother’s. She gave the pair to me when the trade was agreed on. She told me to keep one and give the other to you when we reached Earth.”
I frown. “We’re not on Earth, you realize.”
He smiles. “I know.”
How many of us on this starcraft are actually saying good-byes and I don’t even know it? Somethin’ strong pulls in my stomach, an ache that I don’t want. “Keep it,” I say. “Give it to me when we’re on land.”
“Mykal—”
“I said keep it,” I growl. “We’re gonna make it there.”
We have to.
Blond hair falls into his eyes and he nods. “Okay.”
FORTY-THREE
Franny
We spend five hours in hushed quiet on theNebulus,waiting for our opening to arrive. The Saltare-1 crew haven’t vacated the launchpad for bed or a break like we expected.
Kinden rises to his feet, roping in all of our attention. “We can’t wait any longer in the hope that they clear out. Hope is not a strategy.” He’s about to move toward the communications panel, but he stops himself short. His gaze sweeps us. “Does anyone have an objection?”
Padgett’s brows arch in surprise. “You’re actually asking us,Saga 1?”
He almost grins. “I’m not about to take this risk without all of you.”
Court stands and approaches the captain’s chair. “What’s your plan?”
Kinden quickly explains his idea, and it’s riskier than even flying to the trash moon. Riskier than stealing theSagastarcraft and flying off Saltare-3.
He wants to blow up the tarmac. Along with all the battlecrafts sitting around us. It will give us a way to escape without Saltarians following, but there are a thousand and one risks.
“What if we blow up in the process?” I ask. It seems like a probable outcome.