Winter World (The Long Winter #1)(112)

He motions to the door. “But first, there’s some folks who want to see you.”

Madison, David, Owen, and Adeline burst in and surround me, like I’m the coach of a team that just won the Super Bowl. Seeing them is the only reward I need. They’re still a little thin, but they’re healthy, they’re alive, and we’re happy.

The tears start coming, and it feels like they’ll never stop.

My vision is blurry from the tears, but I can make out a figure in the doorway of the hospital room, hanging back. I wipe away the tears.

James. Smiling. Watching me hugging my family. But he’s my family too. I hold out an arm. He wades into us and hugs me.

“Hi,” I whisper.

“Missed you,” he says. “You’re late.”

My eyes have almost cleared of tears when another group arrives, waiting silently at the door, peering in. They’re family too. Harry is there, smiling wide, almost back to his normal weight. Grigory stands behind them, along with Izumi, Min, Charlotte, and Lina. They got home. My heart breaks all over. I wave them into the room, and I’m once again engulfed in a group hug.

Harry shakes his head ruefully. “Man, I knew you guys would hog all the glory. We should have never let you off the Pax.”





After the months in space, floating, using my legs and arms almost effortlessly, it’s a rude awakening being back in the gravity of Earth. It feels like the world is constantly pulling at me, like I’m wearing a lead suit.

James, limping himself, pushes me out of the hospital in a wheelchair. We ride in an electric car back to our habitat. The snow on the ground is melting now. It’s a mix of sand and ice. Sludge. It’s strangely symbolic of humanity: a mess, but a mess we can clean up. A mess that looks like it’s getting better. The sun shines bright overhead.

At home, we take a shower and slip into our own clothes and sit on the couch, silently reveling in this little slice of normal, this moment when the world isn’t ending and there are no secrets between us.

Oscar’s door looms off the living room, closed, a reminder that our victory came at a cost.

James glances over at the door and exhales heavily as I take his hands in mine.

“I’m sorry about Oscar.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about him.”

“It’s in the past.”

“And what do you think about my past?”

“I think the past is the past. I only care about the future.”

“So what does the future look like to you?”

“It looks like me and you, together, watching as many beautiful sunrises and sunsets as this life allows. We’ll work the details out as we go.”





Epilogue





The stairs creaked as James descended. The crates were heavy, and he was panting by the time he reached the cool, damp cellar. He placed the first crate on the work island and began unpacking it. It held food and water—enough for a few days—which was how long he thought the task would take.

In truth, he was unsure whether the process would even work. He had never attempted it. But three days later, his efforts had borne fruit.

He sat on a stool, performing one last inspection of his work. It was as good as it was going to get. Still, he was nervous as he spoke the commands.

“Wake up. Bring yourself online, identify, and voice-transmit status.”

Oscar opened his eyes.

“My name is Oscar. Backup restore completed successfully.”

“What’s the last thing you remember?”

“Going to NASA headquarters. Being backed up before the Spartan launch.” Oscar turned to James. “What happened, sir?”

“You saved us, Oscar. And we won. Welcome back.”





When James entered Lawrence Fowler’s office at NASA headquarters, he instantly knew something was wrong.

“What is it?”

“The analysis of the computer core from Sparta One is complete.”

“And?”

“The communication array did transmit a message.”

“A comm patch to the attack drones? Trying to cancel their strike?”

“No.” Fowler looked away. “It was a conventional broadcast.”

“Destination?”

“Out of the system. It’s encrypted. We’ll probably never know what it was, but one thing is certain: it was directed at someone far, far away.”

“The grid.”

“Probably.”

“They’ll come for us again. The harvester said they would. And that the next harvester would be more powerful.”

Fowler stood and walked around his desk. “Maybe. But that’s a problem for another day. Right now, we’re safe and warm. And we ought to enjoy it while it lasts.”





The house was full. Emma liked it that way.

Since returning to the three-bedroom habitat that she had shared with James and Oscar on the surface, she’d spent every waking hour decorating it. James had insisted that they bring the exercise equipment back. He wouldn’t budge on that point, and she had learned when to give in to his demands.

He had spent most of his time at NASA, working on a plan he called Solar Shield. He had left for only a week to, in his words, “see an old friend.” He was back now, but he had returned home from a meeting at NASA in a funk, as if a dark cloud was hovering over him.