“Because it’s easier just not to bother,” Enzo said.
“Because I’m tired, Enzo,” I said, spitting out the words. “Okay? I’m tired. Every morning I wake up and I have to run or do strength exercises or something that tires me out right after I’ve gotten out of bed. I’m tired before the rest of you are even awake. Then school. Then an entire afternoon of getting physically beat up in order to learn how to defend myself, on the chance some aliens want to come down here and kill us all. Then I spend my evenings reading up on every single race out there, not because it’s interesting, but just in case I need to murder one of them, I’ll know where its soft spots are. I hardly have time to think about anything else, Enzo. I am tired.
“Do you think all of this is fun for me? Do you think it’s fun for me not to see you? To spend all my time learning to hurt and kill things? Do you think it’s fun for me that every single day I get my nose rubbed in the fact there’s a whole universe out there just waiting to murder us? When was the last time you thought about it? When was the last time Magdy thought about it? I think about it every day, Enzo. My time is spent doing nothing but. So don’t tell me that it’s just easier for me not to bother with the drama. You have no idea. I’m sorry. But you don’t.”
Enzo stared at me for a minute, and then reached over to wipe my cheeks. “You could tell me, you know,” he said.
I laughed a small laugh. “I don’t have time,” I said. That got a smile from Enzo. “And anyway, I don’t want you to worry.”
“It’s a little late for that,” Enzo said.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“It’s all right,” he said.
“I miss it, you know,” I said, wiping my own face. “Spending time with you. Even when it meant spending time with Magdy. I miss having the time to really talk to you. I miss watching you fail at dodgeball. I miss you sending me poems. I miss all of it. I’m sorry that we’ve gotten mad at each other lately, and that we didn’t do something to fix it. I’m sorry and I miss you, Enzo.”
“Thank you,” Enzo said.
“You’re welcome,” I said.
We stood there for a minute, looking at each other.
“You came here to break up with me, didn’t you,” I said, finally.
“Yeah,” said Enzo. “Yeah, I did. Sorry.”
“Don’t be,” I said. “I haven’t been a very good girlfriend.”
“Yes you have,” Enzo said. “When you’ve had the time.”
Another shaky laugh from me. “Well, that’s the problem, isn’t it,” I said.
“Yes,” Enzo said, and I know he was sorry he felt he had to say it.
And just like that my first relationship was over, and I went to bed, and I didn’t sleep.
And then I got up when the sun came up and walked out to our exercise area, and started everything again. Exercise. School. Training. Study.
A very tiring time.
And this is how my days went, most days, for months, until we had been at Roanoke for almost an entire year.
And then things started happening. Fast.
SIXTEEN
“We’re looking for Joe Loong,” Jane said, to the assembled search team, at the edge of the forest by Joe’s house. Dad, who was standing with her and Savitri, was letting her run the show. “He’s been missing for the last two days. Therese Arlien, his companion, tells me that he was excited about the return of the fanties to the area and told her he was thinking of trying to get close to one of the herds. We’re working under the assumption that’s what he did, and then either got lost, or perhaps got injured by one of the animals.”
Jane motioned at the line of trees. “We’re going to search the area in teams of four, spreading out in a line from here. Everyone in a group stays in voice contact with the group members on either side; every one at the left or right of a group also stays in voice contact with your opposite number from the next group over. Call to each other every couple of minutes. We’ll do this slow and careful; I don’t want any of us adding to the number of the lost, understand? If you lose voice contact with the other members of your group, stop and stay where you are, and let your group members reestablish contact. If the person next to you doesn’t respond when you call, stop and alert those you are in contact with. Again, let’s not lose anyone else, especially when we’re trying to find Joe. Now, you all know who we are looking for?”
There were general nods; most of the hundred and fifty or so folks who’d showed up to look for Loong were friends of his. I personally had only the vaguest of ideas of what he looked like, but I was going on the idea that if someone came running toward us, waving his hands and saying, “Thank God you found me,” it was likely to be him. And joining the search party was getting me a day out of school. You can’t argue with that.