Chapter Twelve
“No crying,” Troy ordered. “You promised.”
Cara dabbed at her eyes with her tunic sleeve. “Who’s crying?”
“You are, dorkus.”
“Nope, not me.” Tears didn’t count unless they spilled over, so she hadn’t violated their deal. “Must be something in the recycled air.”
Troy had wanted to say good-bye at the Aegis, and when Cara begged to tag along to the spaceport, he’d agreed on one condition—no sniveling. He’d said it was hard enough leaving her behind, and he didn’t need one more reason to feel like crap.
“Well, get it in check,” he said. “Or I’ll have Jeeves take you back early.”
The capital guard who’d shuttled them to the spaceport—whose name was Aloit, not Jeeves—pointed to the station manager and gave Troy a command in L’eihr. Troy looked to Cara for an interpretation.
She translated for him. “You need to turn in your orders and get a travel band.”
“Impressive,” Troy said with an appreciative nod.
“I know, right?” Cara never imagined how quickly she’d pick up the language. Cultural immersion really worked.
That didn’t mean she wanted to stay. Her decision to leave Earth was starting to feel like a knee-jerk reaction, and she would stow away inside Troy’s duffel bag if she could. She wondered if The Way had sensed it. That would explain why they’d sent a guard instead of a mere pilot to shuttle her to the transport.
“Okay. I’ll make it quick.” Troy backed away by slow degrees as if the two of them were tethered at the waist by a bungee cord. Cara could tell this was hard for him, and she suddenly regretted dragging out their good-bye. She should have given him a clean break at the Aegis like he’d asked.
“Take your time,” she said, hitching a thumb toward the spaceport window. “I love the view from up here.” To make it easier on him, she turned and strode away.
Once she reached the window, she darted a glance over her shoulder and found Troy making his way to the transportation official, orders in hand. Aloit had joined two other middle-age guards in browsing goods for sale along the vendors’ corridor.
“Huh,” Cara said to herself. “Shopping.” She hadn’t considered that. Maybe she should send home some presents with the credits she’d earned from all those nights sanitizing the kitchen. If she hurried, Troy could stuff the gifts in his bag and deliver them once he arrived on Earth. But just when she’d taken two steps in the other direction, her com-sphere buzzed to life. She rushed to a quiet corner to answer it, careful to keep Troy in sight so she could wave him over when he was done.
After whispering her password, she set her sphere on the floor and sat cross-legged facing it. The floor’s steely panels chilled her bottom, so she pushed to her feet and crouched low, hugging her knees.
Tori’s upper torso appeared in miniature from Mom’s kitchen table. Cara smiled so widely it hurt. If anything could make this day bearable, it was a call from her best friend.
Tori’s ebony eyes beamed against skin the precise shade of toasted caramel, her jet-black hair cut in a meticulous bob that followed her jawline. She still had that familiar spitfire in her gaze, the kind that warned a zinger was coming. “You’re in the fetal position,” Tori quipped. “I would be, too, if I were on Planet Freak.”
Cara laughed, drawing a few glances from nearby crew members. “I was literally freezing my ass off. I’m at the spaceport saying good-bye to Troy.”
“Good,” Tori said. “Now get on board with him.”
Cara figured her friend couldn’t talk long, and she didn’t want to waste one minute arguing for the hundredth time about the exchange or listening to a litany of complaints about L’eihrs. “You know I can’t do that, so drop it and tell me how much you miss me.”
Tori answered with her middle finger, a strangely welcome sight.
“Are you okay?” Cara asked. “Is it safe to be at my house?” Tori and Eric had joined HALO before they’d understood the Patriots’ violent nature. Since then, they’d had to pretend not to associate with Cara’s family or face the same “accidents” that had befallen those who openly supported the Sweeneys.
“Safe and sound.” Tori’s face broke into a grin. “You’re not gonna believe this.”
Cara noticed Troy scanning the room for her, so she stood and waved to get his attention, then crouched low again. “Believe what?”
“Isaac Richards is backing the alliance.”
“Right,” Cara said with a snort. “And I’ll ride a unicorn back to my gingerbread dorm.”
“I swear it on my abuela’s grave.” Tori raised one hand in oath. “He said the L’assholes have more to offer than he thought. We should still be careful, but no more protests or he’ll disband our chapters.”
“You’re serious?”
“As cancer.” Tori bit her lip and considered for a moment. “Guess that’s not really serious anymore, since the L’eihrs cured it, but still. Yeah, totes serious.”
“Huh.” Maybe someone had filled in Isaac on the water crisis. “Did he say what?”
Tori shrugged. “Technology, cures for more diseases. Stuff like that.” When Troy approached and took a knee by Cara’s side, Tori offered a quick wave. “Anyway, after Aelyx confessed to that stuff with the crops—”
The silvery band around Troy’s wrist buzzed loudly, startling them all. “What the hell?” he asked as he stared into his palms.
Cara understood what it meant—she had less than five minutes with her brother. “We’ve got to go,” she told Tori. “Try back tomorrow, okay?”
When Tori’s image vanished, Cara took her brother’s wrist and explained the boarding notification system. “You get two warnings. After the third buzz, it’ll start to burn, and it won’t stop until you cross the gate around that corner.” She nodded into the distance at the metal ramp that led to the main transport. “It’s sadistic, but you’re guaranteed not to miss your flight.”
He glared at his wrist and then back at her. “Another example of why we don’t belong here.”
Instead of arguing, Cara used a method of redirection she’d learned in the nursery: linking their arms, towing him toward the gate, and changing the subject. “Thanks for staying the extra couple of weeks. I hope I didn’t get you in too much trouble.”
He eyed her suspiciously but played along. “I’ll live.”
“Do you know where you’re stationed next?” She hoped the military would keep him stateside this year. Mom missed Troy something fierce when he was away, and a German-Malty-Doodle-Poo was no substitute for a son. Or a daughter, she thought with a pang of guilt.
“No.” He steered them around a cart of luggage. “My orders are to report to the L’eihr guard unit in Manhattan. No telling where they’ll send me after that.”
“Manhattan?” Cara squeezed his arm and bounced on her toes. “You might get to see Aelyx when he’s done with his tour.”
Troy rolled his eyes and faked a giddy voice. “I’m all tingly in my pants just thinking about it.”
She laughed and poked at him some more. “Make sure you give him a big hug from me.”
“Okay, shut up.” They’d reached the base of the boarding ramp, so Troy dropped his duffel and shook free of Cara’s grasp.
Her shoulder cooled at the hasty separation, so she rubbed her upper arms, resisting the urge to force a hug on her brother. She knew what he was doing—pulling away and preparing for the inevitable.
“When will I see you again?” she asked.
He dropped his gaze to the tips of his boots, which meant he didn’t know.
Maybe in April, when she returned home for the big signing. “They have to let you come to the alliance ceremony, right?”