Brightly Burning(73)

“Ow!” I looked down to see a needle sticking out of my arm, Hugo just finishing up depressing the handle.

“I’m sorry; I had to,” he said. “If I didn’t make you take it, you’d give yours up for someone else.” He withdrew the needle and stepped back with a sad smile tugging at his lips. “That’s the kind of person you are.”

I hated him for his love. It ripped its claws into my chest and squeezed the breath from my body, drawing my tears once more. This time, there was no dignity in my crying. I could hardly control my breath, nor the anguished sounds that spilled from my lips. Hugo pulled me into a crushing hug, and I let him, my pride in a puddle on the floor. He buried his face in my hair, and I burrowed into the warmth of his chest. I inhaled a shaky breath, holding the air in my lungs, as if to capture him in my sense memory, exactly like this. Solid and warm and mine. I tilted my chin up, let him kiss me. Just once. Chaste. Then I pulled away.

“Hugo, I—” I tripped over what I wanted to say, words that would ultimately both soothe and hurt him. After a deep breath, I opted for the harsh truth. “You did it to protect your mother, right? Giving Mason what he wanted. I understand how much you love her, but she wouldn’t want this, Hugo. Her life for everyone else’s. You have to know that. It’s not worth the price.”

His jaw was tight, eyes now guarded. He offered a terse nod, and that was it. It was over.

I gave my own nod and turned around, marching with resolute steps toward Sergei’s shuttle. Every step was heavy, as if someone had turned the gravity up a few notches, some part of me reluctant to leave. I released a deep sigh as Sergei took my trunk and the vaccines from my hands.

“Is he still there?”

“Da.”

“How does he look?”

I received no reply, but his face said it all. Not good. I refused to glance back, lest I lose my nerve.

“Let’s get out of here,” I said, pausing on the steps up to the shuttle just briefly to hear the whoosh of the outer bay door as it shuttered. I pictured Hugo behind the glass, watching me dis-appear through the metal door. Saying something to the glass, something I would never hear but would appreciate anyway. Something more satisfying than that nod.

I strapped myself into the passenger seat, vaccine bag clutched tight against my breast. And as the shuttle took off and I felt us rocket away from the Rochester for the last time, I knew in my heart that Hugo hadn’t stayed at the window to watch. He’d left. The space behind the window was cold and empty and gray, like the space where my heart used to be. I closed my eyes and allowed myself to weep.


“Stella, we have problem.” It had been nearly two days, and I’d spent much of them knocked out, Sergei’s sleeping draft my only solace. I chose to numb myself from the reality of my situation; if I thought too much about it, regret washed over me like lead.

Sergei frowned down at his tab screen, then up at me. “Stalwart does not simply receive visitors. You have no visa.”

“What?” I climbed into the copilot seat and read the message for myself. The Stalwart was suspicious of who we were, why Sergei was requesting permission to land only temporarily. I’d planned to be on board for only a day or so; then we’d head to the Empire. Now everything was in jeopardy. I looked out the window at Earth and the fleet, slowly but surely growing larger in our view. I’d need to figure this out fast; we were almost there.

“Tell the Stalwart I’m coming back. Permanently,” I said, making a split-second decision. “They’ll take me back if I can work.”

“Do you really think that wise?” Sergei’s expression made clear that he did not. “We can go to Empire instead. Much nicer place to be stuck.”

I shook my head. “I can’t abandon my friends there. The children. They need these vaccines.”

“And what about your cousin?”

“You can still go to the Empire, can’t you? Just to make a delivery of the vaccine?” Sergei nodded. “Then that’s what we’ll do. I’ll go to the Stalwart, and you to the Empire. And then . . .” And then I’d be back on the Stalwart forever. Or at least until all their systems failed and we plummeted back to Earth. Whichever came first. “Let me vaccinate you now.”

“Like I told you before, I am fine. I’ve survived many viruses before this one. Do not waste your precious vaccine on me.”

“Humor me, Sergei,” I said. I was not getting off this ship without giving him a dose. “And confirm with the Stalwart I can come back. Permanently.”

Sergei looked at me as if I were mad, and perhaps I was. The right thing to do often sounded crazy.


Either the Stalwart had changed or I had; I suspected the latter. The transport bay seemed smaller than last I’d seen it; the finishing duller. The Stalwart had never been a nice ship, but the Rochester had clearly spoiled me, as I found myself wrinkling my nose in distaste at features that never irked me before. And perhaps the heavy sense of foreboding I felt was because I would never again leave the hulking carcass of this ship.

Sergei helped me unload my trunk, patting me on the back as his version of a farewell hug. “Good luck. I am sad to have carried you away from the Rochester under such circumstances.”

“Just take care of yourself. And give my best to Charlotte. Tell her I’ll write her once I’m settled.”