Aurora Rising (The Aurora Cycle #1)(8)

Ty looks across at me, and our eyes meet. He hesitates.

“Did you tell her the bad news?”

“You can call in the morning to find out when you can visit,” the voice says.

He nods reluctantly, stepping out of his holding pen as the door hisses open in front of him. With a last glance at me, the trio leaves the room, his voice fading out of hearing as he disappears from sight.

“Hey, can I get a shirt?”

My brain’s starting to assemble more facts now, agitation creeping in as the lethargy of cryo slips away.

Where am I? Who are these people? They’re in uniforms, is this some kind of military facility? If so, what am I doing here, and am I safe? I try to croak out a question, but I can’t make my voice work. And there’s no one to ask anyway.

And so I’m left alone in silence, every nerve throbbing in time with my heartbeat, my head swimming with half-asked questions, trying to wade my way free of the confusion I didn’t know came with cryo.

?????

I don’t know how much time has gone by when I hear voices again. I’m in the middle of another strange dream thing, this one of a world thick with grasping green plants, blue snow drifting down from the sky, when—

“Aurora, can you hear me?”

With effort, I push away the image of the place I’ve never seen, and turn my head. I must have been dozing, because there’s a woman beside me in the same blue-gray uniform as everyone else.

She’s perfectly white. And I don’t mean I’m-half-Chinese-and-you’re-whiter-than-me white, I mean pure-as-the-driven-snow white. Impossibly white. Her eyes are a pale gray—the whole eye, not just the iris—and they’re way too big. Her bone-white hair is pulled back into a ponytail.

“I am Greater Clan Battle Leader Danil de Verra de Stoy.” She pauses, to let me digest that mouthful. “I am pleased to meet you, Aurora.”

Great Clan what now?

“Mmmm,” I agree, not game to risk a different kind of sound.

Nobody ever calls me Aurora unless I’m in trouble.

“I imagine you have many questions,” she says.

She’s evidently not expecting a reply. I nod a fraction, willing my focus to stay with this moment.

“I’m afraid I have bad news,” she continues. “I know of no way to break this to you gently, so I’ll be frank. There was an incident while your ship was en route to Lei Gong.”

“We were going to Octavia,” I say quietly, but I know the name of my colony isn’t the point. I can tell from the careful reserve in her voice that there’s something much bigger coming. There’s a pressure in the air, like the moments before a storm breaks.

“You were removed from your cryopod improperly,” she continues, “which is why you’re feeling like you’ve been turned inside out. That will improve soon. But the Hadfield was the subject of an incident in the Fold, Aurora.”

“It’s Auri,” I whisper, stalling.

Incident in the Fold.

“Auri.”

“What kind of incident?” I ask.

“You were adrift for some time. You may have noticed I don’t look like you.”

“My mom always said it wasn’t polite to point out that sort of thing.”

She has a sad kind of a smile for that. “I’m a Betraskan. I’m one of many alien species Terrans have encountered in the time since you boarded the Hadfield.”

My mind flatlines with one long beeeeeeeeeeeeeeep, all coherent thought shutting down.

Alien species?

Many?

Does not compute, please reboot.

“Um,” I say, very carefully. My brain’s trying its best to throw out possibilities, and getting nowhere good. Are these people conspiracy theorists? Have I been kidnapped by psych cases? Maybe they are military and they’ve been keeping first contact from us civilians?

“I know this must be difficult to process,” she says.

“We encountered aliens?” I manage.

“I’m afraid so.”

“But the Fold to Octavia was only supposed to take a week! If we didn’t even get there, it’s only been a few days, right?”

“I’m afraid not.”

Something’s trying to creep across the corners of my vision, like water seeping in, only this water’s phosphorescent, pricked with a thousand points of turquoise light. I shove it back and focus my attention on the woman at my bedside.

“How …” My throat closes over. I can barely whisper the question. “How long was I gone?”

“I’m sorry, Aurora. Auri.”

“How long?”

“… Two hundred and twenty years.”

“What? You’ve got to be kidding me. This is—” But I don’t even have words for what this is. “What are you talking about?”

“I know this must be difficult,” she says carefully.

Difficult?

Difficult?

I need to speak to someone who’s making sense. My heart’s thumping wildly, trying to burst out of my chest, matching the pounding in my temples. I clutch the silvery blanket to myself and sit up, setting the world whirling. But I manage to swing my legs over the edge of the bed, and haul the silver sheet around me like a toga as I stagger to my feet.