Aftermath - Ann Aguirre [123]
Titian skies blaze all around us as Hit receives clearance from the spaceport. I have a decision to make before we can plot our course. It is, at base, a significant one, and the echoes will follow me through the turns. Do I keep my promise to March, though it will probably be hard and painful?
I said to him, I’ll come. But part of me wants to get on with my mission. I don’t want to see the new life he’s built, in which I have no part. Yet avoidance offers the coward’s path, I think. With a faint sigh, I angle my steps toward the lounge, so I can see the atmosphere yield to darkness and stars. The ship is idle, as I ponder our path—straight to La’heng . . . or not. I wanted to get off the ground, but now I am possessed of an unusual uncertainty. For once, my heart and head are completely opposed, as I stand by the screen, watching the stars. They twinkle with unusual brilliance, as if tempting me to travel.
Sometimes I wish I could fly away from everything, leave behind my promises and my failures, and just leave the universe wondering what became of me. They can replay the old bounce stories and speculate, and in time, forget I ever existed. I’m to the point where I’m ready for eternal anonymity. Though some people spend their whole lives chasing notoriety, I feel like I’ve spent mine fleeing from it . . . and trying to live down a reputation I gained through grief and desperation.
But before I disappear off the galactic radar, I have one final piece of business. Loras thought he didn’t matter to me because of the way I treated him—the way everyone treated him. I left him to die, and the fact that he survived doesn’t let me off the hook. I have to make things up to him, the only way that matters: by figuring out a way to set his people free. Maybe it’s too grand a scheme, but I’m not alone in it. Vel comes with me, always. I touch my throat and smile. Zeeka, too, will stay by my side, a grace I undoubtedly do not deserve. It strikes me then—as I’ve become less human, so have my companions. I suppose that’s fitting.
Hit pings my comm. “Should I sit tight?”
The unspoken question is, though: Are we jumping soon?
“Yeah.”
As soon as I make up my mind whether I’m going to be brave.
We’ll be grounded on La’heng for a long while, no doubt, while we try to get the necessary permissions to start the trials. It will take time to gain trust and gather allies. La’heng isn’t a good place, for obvious reasons. Their inability to defend themselves have left them open to an endless parade of armed invaders, ostensibly present on planet for altruistic reasons and who instead rape the resources. Once they’ve taken what they wanted, the soldiers disappear until the next wave arrives. Hostile forces have occupied La’heng more often than any other world since the Axis Wars, and nobody cares enough to change things.
But I do. Not because of the plight of La’heng itself, though that’s unforgivable. I’m doing this for my friend.
Vel joins me a few minutes later. We gaze in silence for a few moments before he says, “You cannot decide what to do.”
I let out a sigh. “No. It’s not that. I’ve made up my mind. I’m just debating whether I have the wherewithal to handle it in person.”
“It would be unkind to act otherwise,” he notes.
“I guess that’s my answer, then.” I pause, gazing up at him.
“Indeed.”
He is so familiar to me now that he doesn’t look strange. I can read his moods as I would a human male’s: cant of head, positioning of limbs, flare of mandible, how he holds his claws. They also tell me a story about his state of mind. And right now, he seems troubled.
“Does it bother you that I love him, too?” That’s the first time I’ve used that word aloud for what