Page 43 of Elanie & the Empath
Surrounding my feet with his hands, which I did feel quite thoroughly, a warm and firm press, he shook his head. “Your stoic bionic tendencies to minimize your own discomfort aside, I think you should stay off your feet today.”
I huffed. “I don’t minimize my own discomfort. It barely hurts at all.”
His head tilted. “That wouldn’t be because you’ve modified your pain thresholds, would it?”
“No,” I lied, pulling my feet out of his steady grip.
“Just for one day.” He held up a single blue finger. “Please. Do it for me.”
“This is ridiculous.” I removed the mods on my pain thresholds, and while I stifled a groan at the immediate throbbing in my toes, I said, “I’m perfectly fine.”
Sliding his hands up from my ankles to cup my calves, he said, “I know you are, Elanie. I’m just trying to keep you that way.”
Our eyes locked, and maybe hisweremade of cobalt, their magnetic fields aligning, making it impossible for me to look away.
But then he blinked, stood, brushed his hands off on his pants, and walked toward the entrance.
“Fine,” I agreed reluctantly. “Just don’t die out there. You’re very fragile.”
He chuckled, then winced when he gazed out into the snowy emptiness surrounding us. “You never answered my question about that, by the way.”
“What question?”
Looking at me over his shoulder, he asked, “If I died, would you miss me?”
I opened my mouth. Which must have been some sort of instinctual response, a shock reflex. Because I had no idea what to say.
“Don’t answer that.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Not yet. Rest up. I won’t be gone long.”
Ignoring the unidentifiable fluttering sensation beneath my sternum, I said, “Youcan’tbe gone long, Portisan.”
“Elanie.” His eyes flew wide while his hand landed dramatically on his chest. “Did you just make a joke?”
“No.”
“Quick retort, sarcastic tone, friendly jab at my cold-blooded people. I’m no expert, but I think you did.”
“You’re wrong,” I insisted. “Bionics don’t joke.”
“And Portisans don’t tolerate severe weather.” He snatched our webbing satchel from the ground and slung it over his shoulder. “Yet here we are. A funny bionic and a hearty Portisan.”
“We’ll see how hearty you are when I’m having to heat you back up again.”
His lips curled at the corners. “Hate to break it to you, but that’s not much of a deterrent.”
I used all my available resources to fight the urge to smile back at him.
16.SEM
Havinga concrete plan always helped keep my anxiety from running away with me. My plan for today was to gather as much wood as I could carry for as many trips as I could tolerate before I went hypothermic again. Then I’d try to start a fire, cook for Elanie, then take apart the backup comms I’d stolen from the pod and see if it could be repaired. It was a good plan. Totally doable.
I hoped.
With one last glance around the open clearing to the north of our cave, double-checking for tracks and not finding any, I slipped into the trees blanketing the mountains.
It was undeniably beautiful here on Golgunda. Orange and lavender skies, towering pines, rocky peaks rising steeply in the distance. But there was something off about this place too. No birds twittered above me. No critters scurried away as I made my way deeper into the woods. My empathy worked on animals too. It wasn’t as clear, but it worked well enough to know that the woods I walkedthrough were empty. Completely. It was eerie, the silence. Unnatural. Whoever had terraformed this rock didn’t give two shits about creating a sustainable ecosystem. Or about Portisan thermodynamics.Stars above, it was cold as hells.
I blew on my hands, then I rubbed my arms while jogging in place. Anything to generate heat. Not that any of it worked with my cold-blooded tendencies. Do you know what had worked? Being the little spoon.
