“You will—”
But I give up my weak reassurance when she narrows her eye. We both know the truth. Neither of us will ever be that happy again because that universe is gone.
? ? ?
I wake up holding Nishi’s hand. I only slept a little—the flight time on the wallscreen says we’ve been traveling for just six hours. But it’s more sleep than I’ve gotten since the Sumber. It’s the first time I’ve felt safe in too long.
Now that I’m up, I’m afraid to close my eyes again, so I decide to stroll through the ship. Everyone is probably still sleeping, so it’s the perfect time to stretch my limbs.
As soon as I’m in the hall, I hear retching. It sounds like a girl, so it’s Ezra or Pandora or Skarlet. Hoping above all that it’s not the Ariean, I knock on the cabin door. “Are you okay?” I call softly.
No one answers, and I try the handle, which is unlocked, so I peek inside. There’s nobody in the bed, but the lavatory door is open. On the floor is Ezra, curled around the toilet.
I shut the door behind me and come over to her. The lavatories don’t fit two people, so I sit down in the doorway and ask, “What’s going on?”
She groans, and an empty glass bottle rolls away from her on the floor. I pick it up and sniff the lingering licorice scent. “I didn’t think Abyssthe had the same hangover symptoms as alcohol.”
“I always have a . . . reaction to it,” she mumbles into the cold ground.
“Can I get you anything?”
Her groan sounds a lot like the word go.
I keep expecting my feet to push up from the floor and carry me out of the room, but there’s no pull on my muscles to move. “If you’ve got the hangover part covered, maybe I could help with whatever the original problem was—since Abyssthe seems to have failed you?”
“Get out,” she moans, more clearly now.
“Should I call Gyzer instead?”
Her head jerks up, and she winces in pain from the movement. “No,” she says, more pleading than threatening. “Don’t tell him.”
“Okay, but if you’re not going to talk to him about it, then I think you should talk to me. You don’t even want to be my friend anymore, so why should you care what I think? Just use me to extract whatever poison is eating at you because you’re no good to this army if you fall apart.”
“You really have . . . a way with words,” she says, taking a breath midsentence.
“If you’re too nauseous to talk, I’ll wait with you.”
I lean back against the doorframe and shut my eyes, nerves suddenly fluttering in my own belly. We’ve made the calculations, and we’ll be arriving the evening of the third day. Aquarius could be back at any moment.
The plan is for me to return to the Mothership with Ezra and Gyzer by my side and tell Blaze we went to visit my friends so I could convince them, but they wouldn’t budge. I’ll act put out that he and Aquarius never told me Imogen would be taking over the camp, but since I also think my friends are headed to their deaths, I’m probably less angry and more sad. If Blaze wants to verify my story with Imogen, he’ll have to communicate holographically since they have a Psy shield up at the camp, and our fake Imogen will confirm my report.
“I never killed anyone before.”
Ezra’s words hit me like a bullet, and my eyes fly open. Not just from pity, but shock that I didn’t pick up on her pain earlier.
She can’t be older than sixteen. Of course she’s never shot a person.
I edge closer and carefully brush her braids away from her face. There are tears on her mahogany cheek, and I reach up into the wall dispenser for a fresh, warm face towel. When it comes out, I wait for it to cool a little, and then I gently mop up her skin and neck, which is drenched with sweat.
“I didn’t even think of them as human,” she says softly. “I just pictured monsters behind the masks.” Her brown eye rolls up to meet mine. “Risers.”
I nod without saying anything so I don’t interrupt her confession.
“Hysan was right. I didn’t think they were worth saving.” She hinges her elbow beneath her to rise to a sitting position, and I slide back a little to give her space.
“They looked exactly like the targets in the holo-games. . . . They didn’t feel real. I didn’t touch them.”
Tears roll down her cheeks again, and I offer her the towel. She takes it from me and blows her nose. We sit in more silence, until she says, “I thought being a double agent sounded like a dream. Hysan asked me to really think through what this would be like, but I ignored him. I thought I could pretend to be a Party member without losing myself, only . . . now that I’ve killed people, who am I?”
I sigh and say, “I wish I could be helpful, but as you yourself pointed out on the way to Phaet, I don’t have a clue who I am anymore either. I think Eurek was right that we can’t second-guess our choices in war. We have to stay present and keep moving forward. Our worlds may have raised us to think of Risers this way, but it’s now up to us to change the narrative.”
“But the Party members have been able to justify so much death, and I thought—it didn’t seem like it could be that difficult, since they’re not all bad people. A few of them I’m even friends with. How can they be okay with this?”
“I don’t think anyone’s okay with this,” I say, suddenly feeling exhausted and ready to go back to sleep. I stand up and reach down to pull Ezra to her feet, and I help her into bed. As I’m zipping up her cocoon, I whisper, “I think win or lose, war makes victims of us all.”
29
I WAKE UP STARVING.
Nishi’s eyes open a moment after mine do and she says, “I’m hungry.” Someone’s stomach rumbles, and I can’t tell if it’s hers or mine.
We head to the galley to hunt for food or anything that resembles it, and we find Skarlet and Gyzer at the table. A plate stacked with what looks like sheets of brown levlan sits beside them, but they’re completely engrossed in their arm wrestling match. Their faces are tight with concentration, foreheads shiny with sweat, uniform sleeves bulging with muscles.
Skarlet wins.
“Best two out of three?” he asks.
But she looks to me in the entryway and says, “Maybe later.” Then she rises from her seat in one sinuous movement and knocks her rock-hard arm into mine as she edges past. I bite down on my lip to keep quiet.
Nishi approaches the levlan-like food and sniffs it. “What is it?” she asks Gyzer.
“Dried Ram meat. An ancient warrior recipe that Majors would take with them to battle. It’s good,” he adds, seeing Nishi’s suspicious expression.
She lifts a sheet with both hands and brings a corner to her mouth and nibbles it. She chews a few times, frowns, swallows, and then her eyes grow wide. “Mmmm!”
She bites into it more eagerly now, and I reach for a square of my own. It has a hard, rubbery texture, and a smoky, spicy taste, and it’s absolutely delicious.
“I’m going to check on Ezra,” says Gyzer, standing up.