Their Fractured Light (Starbound #3)(98)
“Gideon, this plan…” But I don’t know what I want to say, and my words peter out.
Gideon pauses, breath catching as he considers his reply. When he does speak, it’s in a whisper. “If it were you—”
“If it were me,” I break in, forgetting to whisper, “I wouldn’t do it.” In truth, I have no idea what I would do in his place, but I don’t know any other way to convince him not to pursue this. “I wouldn’t risk madness, risk…losing myself, for a plan that could end the world anyway. It’s stupid, and reckless, and however much you like doing stupid and reckless things, you could be risking yourself for nothing. I can’t sit here and watch you decide to do that.”
Gideon waits, one eyebrow lifting a little until the quiet settles back in after my speech. “You done?”
The outburst has left me breathless—I’m tired enough that my emotions are far too close to the surface. I slump back against the wall, running a hand through my hair.
When I glance at him, expecting annoyance—instead I see him smiling, just the corners of his mouth twitching with amusement. “What I started to say,” he murmurs, “was that if it were you in there, in that wreck…if you were the one whose life, or soul, or self were at stake, and I had to choose between you and the entire universe? I’d be halfway there already. I wouldn’t even stop to think.”
I can’t answer—I can’t form a single thought. He’s stolen my breath, my words, left me with just a dim roaring in my ears. I can’t breathe, feeling like the ground’s opening up beneath me, ready to swallow me, and I’m not even sure I care. “Gideon—”
“My brother felt that way about her. I’m not ready to give up on either of them yet.” He reaches out again, but his fingers halt an inch away from my face. They hover there, and I can feel the pull of him, feel it like a physical force drawing me toward him. I lean in toward his touch just as he lets his hand fall and pushes to his feet. “Get some sleep,” he whispers, before ducking back out again.
The sound of crunching debris wakes me, and it’s not until I drag myself out of the jewelry store rubble that I see the pale, thin light of dawn streaming through the opening of the arcade. It was still daylight when we came inside—I must’ve been asleep for twelve hours. My neck muscles spasm as if in recognition of that, protesting my bed of cold marble and debris.
Flynn and Jubilee are awake and moving around, their footsteps making the noise that woke me. Spotting me in the archway, Flynn flashes me a smile and then tosses one of the apples from the LaRoux estate’s kitchen my way. “Morning,” he greets me, managing to elicit a smile from me in return.
“Is it really morning?” I mumble, catching the apple with difficulty, my reflexes still trying to shake off sleep.
“It’s really morning.” That’s Sanjana, sitting on the other side of the hall, eating her own breakfast of a banana and something out of a pouch with the LaRoux lambda seal on it, no doubt taken from work. “You slept?”
“Like a coma patient.” I bite into the apple, my taste buds jolting at its flavor—it’s then that I discover I’m ravenous, as though now that my body’s gotten some sleep, it’s tackling the other problems on the list one by one.
I can’t bring myself to sit, devouring the apple as I circle the small area in the arcade that’s free of fallen beams. I crouch, peering into the alcove where Flynn and Jubilee had vanished yesterday, finding it empty. I straighten, casting my eyes around again. “Guys…” I swallow my mouthful of apple. “Where’s Gideon?”
Sanjana looks up from her banana. “He wasn’t in there with you?” Her head tilts toward the store where I spent the night.
“No.” A flicker of alarm starts at the base of my spine. “Where’s Tarver?”
Jubilee glances at Flynn, who shakes his head. “I just thought…” She glances at the entryway and the soft morning light beyond. “I thought he went to get some air.”
I keep scanning the arcade, even though I know one more look isn’t going to make either of them materialize out of thin air…and then realization washes over me. “His gear,” I gasp, dropping the apple.
“What?” Jubilee turns, standing in the doorway.
“Gideon’s gear. His goggles, his drives, his lapscreen…they’re gone.”
Sanjana gives a wordless exclamation. “The shields…” She points to where two of them sit, repaired, one atop the other by the door—hers and Flynn’s. The one Tarver had been using is missing.
I glance from her to Flynn, and to the soldier by the door. Jubilee’s eyes meet mine for a long moment, and then I find my feet flying toward the hallway. I push past her into the street, calling Gideon’s name and Tarver’s—she and Flynn join in the search, and though we have to stop shouting for them to avoid attracting husks, we fan out to cover the entire block, building by building. It’s not until we end up back at the arcade to see Sanjana’s ashen face in the entryway that my feet stop moving. “The printouts of the programming language are missing,” she whispers.
Gideon and Tarver are gone.
“We have to go after them.” Jubilee’s voice is urgent, her feet carrying her straight to her pack so she can start shoving supplies back into it, ready to move out.