Aftermath - Ann Aguirre [66]
“Get us above the dome and out of the atmosphere, please. I’ll take it from there.”
CHAPTER 20
Hit handles the departure with the docking authority and receives our clearance to depart. Smoothly, she powers up the ship, and the Sue responds with a little hum. That smoothness is Dina’s handiwork. From the exterior, you’d never guess how well this ship runs—in that, she’s like the Folly, the first ship I flew on with her.
And March.
But I’m not thinking about him.
That way, this ache I feel won’t get worse. I won’t wonder whether he’s safe or if Nicuan is driving him nuts. At this point, I have to trust he knows what he’s doing, and he won’t make any terrible decisions on world, but the truth of the matter is, he’d do anything for Svetlana’s son, no matter the cost to himself. So I put him from my mind; he’s beyond my reach for now. Choices were made; paths diverged, and only Mary knows if they’ll ever intersect again. I hope so. I’m not ready to say good-bye to him, not with Vel’s story about Adele so fresh in my mind.
But he chose his course, as I have. I have no business on Nicuan. Maybe it’s cold, but I cherish no attachment to his sister’s child. I would never ask him to pick between his family and me, but he must realize I’m not the settling- down type. Ever since I heard about the kid, I’ve had a bitter, stark feeling, and it’s not getting better. During the war, it didn’t matter as much. None of us could do as we wished.
It matters now.
Gas streaks the world red behind us, blood-tears to mark the loss of a beloved soul. The rest of Gehenna burns orange inside the dome, reflections cast in glastique that protects the city from the killing air. There was a breach, once, in the early days; I saw pictures in school of the bodies, asphyxiated where they fell. That was before they installed all the locks and seals. Even inside the dome, the idea of absolute safety is more illusion than reality. Death hovers just outside the glimmering barrier, swirling at the edges.
Hit flies with the same grace that marks her combat style, and soon we’re through the locks and chambers, rising into the atmosphere. Even now, the knowledge I’m about to jump sends a thrill of pleasure through me. Deep down, I’m still a junkie. The rush still calls to me more than anything else in this life; for me, being trapped dirtside would be the worst punishment imaginable, so I’m glad as hell that Nola got me out of prison.
Wonder how Pandora’s doing.
While I’m thinking about it, I bounce a message to New Terra, asking for a status update. I figure since I’m footing the bill, I’m entitled to that much information. Hit glances at me as I record and send, but she doesn’t ask.
Instead, she says, “We’re out of range of the planet’s gravitational pull.”
Which means I’m on.
Sheer joy as I plug in. Blackout comes on cue, then Hit joins me in the nav com, contained as always. On a ship this size, the phase drive shakes all the way into your bones, a unique vibration that says I’m getting ready to take you into the unknown. The cations in my veins seem to rub against those flowing through the modified phase drive, throwing sparks in my mind. Neural blockers take any associated pain, then Hit pushes us through the corridor spiraling before us.
Then I’m home. Grimspace rushes in my head as if I’ve flown into a cyclone, spinning me in all directions, and yet it’s perfect, inexpressibly right. I open myself to the shimmering colors and the echo of the beacons. So strange to have fragments of me reflected in each pulse. I imagine this is what it’s like to have children you haven’t seen in turns; they resemble you in ways you’ve almost forgotten because you aren’t that person anymore.
And that’s just about the perfect analogy, for these beacons I’ve attuned to my DNA signature are the closest I’ll ever come to offspring of my own. This is my genetic legacy, my message to future jumpers. Hello, they say with each pulse. Sirantha Jax was here. And maybe that’s all that needs to be said.