“You’ve been to Gemini before?” I ask, determined to keep the tone lighter from now on. There’s enough tension on this ship already.
“Unfortunately,” he says, his eyes still distant.
“Can you tell me about its Guardians?”
He nods. “’Nox, show us the Twins.” A small holo-map of the Double constellation spins in the air above the helm. “Gemini’s two Guardians are brother Caaseum and sister Rubidum, and they’re at least three centuries old—but when you see them, you’ll think they’re twelve-year-olds. They use appalling procedures to maintain their youth.”
“Three centuries? How can anyone live that long?” My mother told me about the Twins, and we touched on them at the Academy, but only very peripherally. Like every House, Gemini guards its secrets jealously, so they don’t share all the details of their major discoveries.
“In the early days, Gemini led the Zodiac in scientific and humanitarian achievements,” says Hysan. “They imagined solutions for every problem, and they brought a lot of those solutions to life. Then their House discovered cell regeneration, and holding on to youth became a Geminin obsession. Lots of aristocrats do it, but few take it to the Twins’s extreme. The cost is beyond imagining, and so is the pain.”
“How long can they live that way?”
“The longest anyone’s lasted is about three hundred and fifty years. The Geminin Guardians are probably reaching their end.”
Goosebumps ripple up my arms. The thought of living long enough to watch my family and friends die around me is depressing and lonely in a way that no other companionship could fix.
Hysan scans the blinking messages on the Shielding from Shadows screen. As he clicks through the entries, I ask, “How did you design a shield that repels Psynergy?”
He keeps studying the controls, looking preoccupied. Another screen blinks new data, and he speaks quietly to his ship. To me, he says, “We’re about to land. Better alert your watchdog.”
“He’s my Advisor,” I say defensively.
He hands me two metallic devices. “Take these collars. There’s one for each of you.”
“What do they do?”
“They’re cloaking veils that project a mirage of invisibility. We should all wear them when we disembark until we’re sure it’s safe.”
Before I can ask more questions, he turns and starts a long conversation with his ship, so I wend my way forward to reach the front tip of the nose. Ahead of us, the smaller Geminin planet, Argyr, shines like a green melon. When we get there, I’ll have to explain my theory about Ophiuchus again, the theory Mathias still won’t accept.
I peer through the glass, and the cold black eternity of Space makes me sad. I miss the Blue Planet. “Every world is beautiful from a distance,” says Mathias, coming up beside me.
The sound of his musical voice still jostles my heart, though I’m not sure how I feel about him anymore. If he could be the guy with the soft eyes all the time, it’d be different. But I can’t reconcile the person who swore his loyalty to me on his Mother’s life—who risked his own life setting out on this mission—with the Mathias who distrusts me.
“What are those?” he asks, pointing to the thin metal collars.
After I explain, we put them on. “All this stealth technology,” he whispers. “I suspect your Libran may be involved in espionage.”
“Espionage?”
“Every House engages in it,” he says, still whispering like Hysan can hear us. “Even Cancer has a secret service.”
“We do?” It’s hard to imagine Cancrian spies. We’re not very good liars. “Well, aren’t you glad this ship is veiled?” The question comes out like a challenge, and I realize I’m being as defensive of Hysan as I was of Mathias earlier.
“Of course,” he says, forgetting to keep his voice down. “If it hadn’t—if the shield hadn’t shut down the Psy attack . . .”
He moves closer, and the raw look from earlier comes over his features. Seeing how much he cares about me makes my heart pump at hyperspeed. If he would just trust me in equal measure, things could be different.
Trust . . . the word reminds me there’s something I haven’t told Mathias yet. And it’s time I confide in him fully—after all, even without believing, he’s come this far.
“Mathias, I’ve put you in more danger than you know by letting you join me on this trip.” I hesitate a moment, then I confess. “I didn’t tell you earlier, but Ochus threatened to kill me if I spoke of him. In fact, if I do exactly what I’m doing now—warn the other Guardians—he pretty much guaranteed it.”
Mathias blanches. “You predicted the attack on the ship? And you chose to do this anyway?”
“To warn the other Houses,” I say, nodding. “Otherwise they’ll be unprepared . . . like we were.”