Brightly Burning(78)

I groaned. “Jon, I just . . . can’t.”

“I know. I had hoped what happened on the Rochester wasn’t too serious, but clearly it was.”

“What are you talking about?” I couldn’t keep the panic from creeping into my voice.

“Just, with what you said. And what you didn’t say. I figured you and Hugo Fairfax must have had something. I read between the lines.”

I turned away, watched the ships in the near distance dance in orbit. “Does anyone else know?”

“No. Most people don’t pay as much attention to you as I do.”

That earned him a look, which I realized might have been his intention. He got me to turn around. Jerk.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?”

“No?” I slumped against the glass. Slid down until I was sitting, the chill at my back oddly comforting. Jon sat too, sure to keep a few feet of distance. At this point, I trusted Jon more than anyone. An odd sensation.

“I was engaged,” I said finally. “To Hugo.” An invisible weight lifted from my shoulders. Someone else knew my secret now.

“And you left. Because of the virus?”

I nodded. Jon didn’t say anything at first, his silence sparking my worst fears. Finally, he nodded and said the two words I hadn’t known I needed to hear: “I understand.” And then, barely missing a beat: “Now, do you want to search for constellations or play ‘guess the continent’?”

I smiled, thankful not to have to hash it out in excruciating detail. “How about a little of both?” Following his lead, I searched the skies for familiar patterns and proceeded to make the most of my birthday.


Chapter Twenty-Seven


Quarantine ended a week later with little fanfare. Everyone was exhausted, or mourning, and eager to get back to our pre-sickness duties without fuss. I would not miss the heat at my back, the soreness of my muscles from repetitive action. Field duty was not for me. The Stalwart returned to its normal rhythms, and I to mine, but with one major difference. Captain Karlson permitted me to teach as my primary occupation on board; no more regular engineering shifts for me. And the residents became more and more enamored of the idea of going down to Earth. Never mind that Jon and his uncle still hadn’t figured out how we’d safely get there. But everyone had pretty much accepted that we had to. The fleet had written us off.

“Will we die if we go down there?” Arden brought the day’s lesson to a dead halt. Twenty blanched faces with big, curious eyes zeroed in on me.

“No,” I said, more firmly than I believed. They were too young to know the risks, the statistical analysis the crew had been doing, gauging our odds. “It may be cold, but we’ll be fine.”

“My mom said we’ll freeze up instantly,” Jefferson said.

“No one can say that for sure.” I sighed. “Every day that passes, the Earth gets warmer. And we’re not going down right away. Don’t worry. Now, on to today’s chapter!”

I pulled up my tablet and opened up where we’d left off. This was our new routine: Earth classics Monday, Wednesday, and Friday; art on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I loved seeing the kids’ eyes light up as we read books they’d never even imagined, my cache taken from the Rochester archives coming in handy.

I asked Jefferson to read, a small punishment for terrifying us all, but then of course he read like a pro. He beamed when I complimented him, and I forgot my annoyance. They were good kids, and I was lucky to be teaching them.

I was happy here. I was. But it felt hollow. My life was a facsimile of the one I’d had on board the Rochester. Similar rhythms, but the wrong beats. A missing melody.

Missing him.

When our hour was up, they begged me to keep reading, but I knew Destiny was waiting in the wings with their Farming Essentials lesson. Reading was a pleasure, an escape, but Destiny’s class was practical. Soon, these kids would be responsible for growing and sustaining the food that could mean the difference between life and death for our colony on Earth. I caught myself and my pronoun use. Our. I was already, at least subconsciously, committed to going with Jon and everyone else. Still, a part of me hesitated, yearned to use my family connections on board the Empire to stay. In my heart, I knew what held me back, but I was loath to admit it.

If I left behind the stars, I was leaving behind Hugo.

I was in the middle of chastising myself for the thought, for my stupidity at thinking about him, reasoning with myself how maybe I could go back, when I ran headlong into Jon in the hallway.

“I was looking for you. Someone is here to see you.” When I looked around in confusion, he continued. “No, like, someone came here to see you. In a ship. They’re in the cargo bay. Says they’re your driver.”

I didn’t bother with pleasantries; I simply took off, rushing to the cargo bay as quick as my feet would allow until my suspicion was confirmed.

“Stella, my girl,” Sergei greeted me with a bone-crushing, back-slapping hug, which I received gladly.

“I’m so glad you’re safe,” I said into the scratchy fabric of his jacket, then pulled away to search his face. I found it looking almost . . . guilty? “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to deliver a message.”

To my great surprise, he extracted from his coat a set of folded papers. It was so terribly antiquated, I laughed.