Seward is unrecognizable by the time we dock with the Nova; there’s no city, no flagship, no fleet—no Legion.
Massive tsunamis roll across the planet, collide, coalesce, and then divide. They appear slow and gentle at this distance, but when one of them strikes the planet’s sole continent it blasts through the smoking debris-packed crater where New Tangier used to be. Ragged remains of Homan’s shell rock and tumble, like boats in a storm. Steam pours into the atmosphere in plumes where seawater floods into the planet’s mantle, magma spewing from the colossal wounds like fiery blood.
Squid joins me at the viewport. They don’t speak for what feels like a full minute. “We should go, before they send a fleet to see why Seward fell silent.”
I nod, and my migraine peaks; I feel my head turn to the side, cold spear of pain through the right hemisphere of my brain. I haven’t had a headache like this since Sera opened my mind with those encephallucinogenic mushrooms. I also haven’t pulled a moon out of orbit before, shifting thousands of tons of steel and stone with nothing but my thoughts; of course the strain of that is going to hurt.
“I was thinking we’d go to Aylett Station,” Squid says. “From there all the people we rescued can find work, transport home, or whatever else they might need.”
“Sounds good,” is all I can manage.
“I’ll tell Einri. After that, we should talk.”
They leave me, and after a few moments the view of Seward cuts away and the stars disappear as we enter worm-space. I stay at the viewport and stare into the abyss.
* * *
Ken walks backward down the hallway of the hotel. A wall of fire rages at the end of the corridor, flames roiling but silent. It moves toward us in slow motion.
“Stop,” I say, but Ken keeps moving.
The flames engulf him.
I wake on my side with Ocho curled up at my chest, purring. I scratch her chin and she shifts in her sleep. I bring my legs up, fold myself around her, and try to nap.
* * *
“I don’t see why we need to have this meeting,” I say. Pale is sitting on my lap, with Ocho asleep on his lap.
We’re in the shuttle, docked with the Nova because the hold is crammed full of refugees, cut off from all our passengers while Einri flies us toward Aylett. The stench in the Nova is thick with humanity—sweat, sex, and other stinks. Ali was one of the first to reach the ship when Squid docked with Homan, a trail of prisoners following behind her. She’s been telling them all that I saved them; she says I’m a hero, and some of the others agree.
Which is why I’ve been hiding out in the shuttle.
“Mars,” Squid says softly, “you destroyed a whole city. You need to talk about that.”
Pale turns around to look at me and his bony butt digs into my legs. I still don’t know how much he understands, but the awestruck look on his face tells me that he might grasp “destroyed a whole city.”
“How’s Mookie doing?” I say, just to change the subject.
Squid sighs and leans forward in their seat. “He’s not good. One moment he’s catatonic, the next he’s hysteric. Either way he won’t leave Trix’s side.”
I nod. I haven’t seen her body since I put her into storage in the medbay. Part of me wants to say goodbye, but that means facing Mookie, and I’m still not ready for that. Maybe I never will be.
“Mars,” Squid says, “I won’t judge you, but you need to talk about what you did.”
Maybe you should judge me, Squid. Maybe I can’t talk about it because I’m too busy judging myself. “I just need some time alone,” I say. “Once we unload everyone at Aylett and I get a new ship, I’ll go, and I’ll get my head together.”
“We’re here for you, Mars.”
“But you shouldn’t be,” I say. Unless you want to die too.
“You’ve got about an hour until we reach Aylett,” Squid says. They don’t say it might be my last chance to see both Trix and Mookie, but the subtext is there in the gaps between words. “I’ll be in the cockpit helping Einri with the docking procedures.”
Squid lingers at the doorway for a moment before deciding to stay silent. They leave the shuttle; the burst of sound coming from the Nova dies abruptly when the door closes again.
* * *
Pale holds tight to my hand as I walk through the Nova to the medbay. Refugees step aside to let us squeeze pass, huddling together to whisper about me in hushed tones.
Mookie doesn’t look up when Pale and I walk into the medbay. There’s a subtle hint of putrefaction to the air, Trix’s body laid out on one of the cold chamber drawers, pulled out from the wall. A white sheet covers her ruined stomach, but not her face or arms, and Mookie clutches her blue and lifeless hand.
“Pale wanted to see Trix,” I say.
Mookie’s arms are stippled in goose bumps, and he’s shaking, but whether it’s from grief or the cold, I can’t tell.
Pale pulls me closer and we stand next to Trix’s body, opposite Mookie. Pale stares at her and raises a hand as if to touch her shoulder, but then he pulls it away.
This wasn’t part of the plan, Trix. You could have stayed on the Nova; you didn’t have to die like this.
“Mookie, I—” I don’t know what to say.
“You never should have come for me.” He glances up and I see a flash of silver, but he doesn’t quite meet my eyes before he looks back to Trix.
“You know we couldn’t have done that. We had to find out what happened to you, we had to save you.”
“You should have left me,” Mookie says, louder. He groans and then smacks his forehead with the palm of his hand. “You should have died, you should have—”
He turns away from Trix and walks to the corner of the small room to lean his head against both walls. “You killed me—you killed them. You killed all of us!” He yells the last bit. “They were there, in my head; I knew them all, I knew them like I know myself, and you just fucking killed them. I was there when it happened; I died thousands of times. Now I’m alone, without them, without Trix; there is no one here, there is nothing.”
“The Legion killed Trix, Mook. I had to stop it. I—”
He spins back, face twisted in anguish, a stream of tears running down each cheek. “You’re a fucking monster. Leave,” he says, then he starts screaming, “leave me alone, leave me alone!”
Pale starts to cry, so I hold him tight and press his head into my stomach, hand covering his ears. I lead him out of the medbay with my arm around his shoulder, but pause in the doorway. “Sorry, Mookie.” I’m so fucking sorry.