On the last day of the trek, Echo grew nervous. Lee and Ren had called the leaders of Santa Fe to report on the mission and had told them everything from Xavier’s death to Reilly’s demise. The leaders knew that Echo was coming. Which meant his father knew too.
Jeth also knew that Echo had joined the Dakine, and that this bad decision had led to an assassination attempt against Joseph. When Echo got to Santa Fe, he would have to see the disappointment in Jeth’s eyes, the accusation, a coldness where love used to be.
Several times during the trip, Joseph had reassured Echo that Jeth would be happy to see him. But that was the thing about having a twin brother—Echo could tell when Joseph was shining up unpleasant facts. Joseph wasn’t any more sure what Jeth’s reception would be than Echo was.
As they flew the last distance on their airbikes, Echo began to sort out expectations, to quantify them. It was fine if Jeth was angry at him and yelled a lot. Echo deserved it. He hadn’t just made a bad decision; he’d crashed all their lives. Anger was fine. Just so long as Jeth still talked to him. Jeth might, after all, refuse to see him.
It would be all right if Jeth said he didn’t want Echo to live in the same apartment with him. Echo was twenty years old. Most children lived on their own at that age. Joseph only lived in Jeth’s apartment because they were both new to the city and it was crowded. Echo wouldn’t mind rooming with someone else. Just so long as it was near to Jeth and Joseph. He still wanted to spend time with them.
And then there was work. Originally Echo hadn’t even wanted to be a historian. He’d only gone along with it because he’d wanted to work with Joseph. But now the thought of Jeth not wanting Echo around, of him not sharing his theories and asking for Echo’s opinions . . . Echo’s chest felt tight every time he thought about it. What if he had to find a new profession, had to start over and apprentice at something else? Jeth might completely delete Echo from his life.
And that was the worst thought of all.
When Santa Fe was looming ahead of them, so large that they could no longer see the top of the dome, Lee and Ren landed their bikes and Joseph followed. As Lee dismounted, he told Echo, “We’ve got to wait here for the security team. They need to make sure we’re legitimate before they open any city gates.” Lee looked at his comlink. “We called in. It shouldn’t take them long to get here.”
It didn’t. Almost as soon as Lee finished speaking, Echo heard the rumble of vehicles coming their way. Moments later two large covered trucks pulled to a stop in front of them. Armed men hung from the back, scanning glasses on their eyes as they surveyed the area. “They’re alone,” one man called.
A ramp lowered, making room for the group to roll their airbikes onto the truck. Before the ramp even touched the ground, a man jumped down from the back of one of the trucks. Echo immediately recognized him. It was his father. Jeth’s maroon hair was shorter, and he no longer wore any sort of face dye. It made him look older somehow. Or perhaps the stress had done that—having a son killed, and knowing that the son had brought it on himself.
Echo stared at Jeth in surprised silence, searching for something to say. All he could do was swallow.
Jeth’s gaze ricocheted between Joseph and Echo. “Echo!” he called. In their camouflage dye, Jeth couldn’t tell who was who.
Echo stepped forward. There was no more putting it off, no way to deny any of it. His mistakes hung off him, raw and visible for his father to see.
Jeth came toward him, staring as though he still didn’t quite believe it. When he got within arm’s reach, he stopped and his face crumpled with emotion.
“I’m sorry,” Echo said. It was the only thing he could get out before Jeth broke into tears. Echo hadn’t ever seen his father cry before. This was going to be bad.
“I’m sorry,” Echo said again, feeling how inadequate the phrase was. His words tumbled from his mouth, too fast, disjointed. “I didn’t realize what would happen—I didn’t want—I never would have joined if I—”
“I know,” Jeth said, putting his hands on Echo’s shoulders. “I know you wouldn’t have.”
“Then why are you crying?”
Jeth wrapped his arms around him like he’d done when Echo was a little boy. “Because you were dead and now you’re alive.”