Roar covered her hand with his and gave it a squeeze. “Do you want me to stay?”
“Part of me is screaming ‘yes’ while the logical part is reminding me that I’m a big girl and I can do this on my own. I think I kind of owe Grams that much.”
He dropped his gaze. “I’ll be right next door if you need me.”
“I know.” Leda turned her hand so her palm was pressed flat against his. Soaking in his warmth. She locked her fingers through his and he gripped her hand in a firm, comforting embrace. “Thanks for the offer though.”
They were silent for a few minutes. Then Leda tipped her gaze up. “Can we do something today? Explore the ship, maybe? I know you probably know it inside and out, but…”
He chuckled. “Sure. Whatever you want. I can even show you how to fly a shuttle around one of the bays, if you’d like.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously. Anything you want, just ask.”
She shot him a dark look. “And no trying to influence my decision.”
Roar threw his hands up. “You figured me out.”
It was nice to see him making jokes. “You’re not too subtle. That night you came over, back on Vardø, I figured you had some devious plot to carry out, like you were going to break into my house, but I was home, so your plans were foiled.”
“I wasn’t—” He shoved a hand through his hair. “I mean, I did have something I was supposed to do, but you distracted me.”
“With my awesome skills?”
He laughed as his eyes swept from her head down to her toes in a long, slow perusal that made her blush. “That, too.”
Leda knew he meant her looks. She wasn’t averse to having people check her out. It was only when they discovered her disability that their looks turned from appreciation to pity. Last year for a Social Studies project, Leda had taken her favorite picture and put it up online on a dating site, making no mention of her spina bifida. The responses were numerous. Some flattering, and some downright lewd. Then she sent the guys a picture of her standing in front of the Museum of Modern Art with her crutches. The next responses ranged from pity messages, where the guys suddenly had girlfriends, to outright disgust and rage, saying she was wrong to trick them.
Leda nibbled on the inside of her cheek. “Are you going to tell me what you were going to do?”
He firmed his lips, his expression clouded. “Searching for the weapon. That was my job.”
“Right. Jäger.” Leda swiped her tongue over her lips. “Were you going to wait until I’d gone to sleep or something?”
He paused for a moment. “Something like that.”
A knock at the door made Roar jump. “That’ll be Grams,” Leda said, her throat tight. A sharp pain squeezed her stomach.
“Sure you don’t want me to stay?”
Leda nodded. “I’m sure. Some things need to be done on my own, and this is one of them.”
Grams hadn’t said a word since she came into Leda’s room and sat down at the table across from Leda. And Leda couldn’t look at Grams, though she felt the weight of her stare between her eyes, tingling.
Leda shut her eyes and drew in a breath, her lungs burning with a mixture of shame and grief. She had decided in the night that she missed her dad more than she did her mother, so she wasn’t going to dwell on what she’d done. Now with Grams sitting a foot away, that resolution evaporated. Grams must hate me.
How could she not?
Grams stretched her arms out, her palms flat on the table. “Are you going to say something?”
She didn’t know what to say. And even if she had a speech planned from beginning to end, she didn’t think she could get the words out.
“Leda, look at me.”
Leda did look up, her vision clouded with tears. Grams seems so frail from the outside, but her voice was strong and unwavering, her eyes clear.
“Nils brought me a copy of the video from the bridge,” Grams said.
Leda’s chest felt tight.
“I saw what you did. But you must know, Roar was going to do the same thing.”
“Yeah, he told me.” She had been so absorbed with her own task that Leda hadn’t paid attention to the others.
“And don’t you think I would have as well?”
“I don’t—” Leda took a shuddering breath. “I don’t know.”
“Well, now you do. Any one of us would have.” Grams made a dark sound. “Nina was my daughter, but she betrayed me. She betrayed all of us. And I can never forgive her for the way she treated you.” Grams held her hands out, waiting. Leda slowly, gently, placed her hands in Grams’s. “Family isn’t just about the people you’re related to by blood. Family is deeper than that. Family is the bonds you create with the people in your life who matter most. When you make a connection with a blood relation that runs so deep it can’t be quantified, you have to just accept that life is life, and you can’t control it. We’re all along for the ride. What matters most is how we perceive the journey we take. Do you understand?”
Leda wiped her eyes on her shoulder. “I think so.”
Grams raised a hand to Leda’s cheek for a brief, soft touch. “Good. And just so the air is cleared once and for all, know I could never hate you for doing what you did. I’m more distraught by the realization that my daughter put every Aurelite on Earth in danger. I knew Nina was selfish, but I honestly never thought she’d be so stupid.”
“Mom always seemed so…” Leda paused, not wanting to speak ill of the dead.
“You can say it. ‘Self-absorbed,’ yes?”
“Yeah. Like, she only invited Dad and I to an opening once, because the artist insisted he meet her family.”
“Ah, the architect-turned-artist, correct?”
Shock froze her for a second. “How’d you know?”
A slow, knowing smile spread on Grams’s face. “I have my sources. Your mother might have tried to separate her life from mine, but I made sure I knew about my granddaughter.” Grams tapped Leda’s hand then stood. “I think I’ll go up to the bridge. I don’t want to miss a single minute of excitement. Would you care to join me?”
“Maybe after breakfast.” Her stomach growled on cue. “Grams, I know you wanted to explain something about me and Roar.”
“Not now, sweetie. You’ve got enough going on right now. It can wait.”
“No, that’s just it. I wanted to let you know that I get it. I was made to be the weapon. He was made to find me. I get it. You were just looking out for me.”
Grams sighed. “I hope you know that’s true. I—all of us involved with this—we’re all looking out for you. To keep the worst from happening.” She opened her mouth, then closed it. “It can wait until after.”
After. Assuming there was one.
“So Arne told you what Rika found?”
“Of course. That man can’t keep a secret from me.”
“So you know about the choice I have to make.”
“I do.” Grams stepped forward and the door whooshed open. “And whichever one you make will be the right decision.”
“You’re not going to try to talk me out of it?”
“Why would I? You’re a smart girl. You know what’s best for you.”
Sometimes, Leda thought as they walked down the hall, I’m not so sure about that.
Chapter Sixteen
Roar sat in one of Equinox’s two common rooms staring out the window, watching space scroll by in strips of black and white and bursts of color too bright to register. Beside him, curled up on the padded bench seat spanning the length of the wall, Leda had fallen asleep with her head on his thigh.
After she’d spoken alone with her grandmother, Roar had taken her here, away from everyone else. The rest of the crew handled the ship without him, no complaints. Even Stein was content with the added responsibility. Weird. Stein wasn’t the kind of person to work for free, which technically, they all were. They might get some recognition when they made it back and stopped the Woede, and
even sponsorships to live off of, but until then, no one was getting any payment. Aurelis was a democratic society but capitalism ran rampant and the divide between upper and lower class had grown over the years. In that, Earth and Aurelis shared a common thread.
Every time he shut his eyes, he saw the way Leda had bent in agony when Rika had pushed on her spine. Rika’s words echoed in his mind, a constant loop, gouging out pieces of his heart. Another thing he was responsible for: waking the creature. Rika and Arne both determined that it was most likely dormant. Until he touched her. He wanted to tear that thing, whatever it was, from her body and toss it out the first available airlock. He wanted to keep Leda to himself, screw responsibility—he kept having those thoughts, those needs, and hating himself for it. Roar’s purpose was to locate and deliver the weapon, not crave her attention, her touch, her affection.
Enjoy the moment. Didn’t he at least deserve that much? If he’d been born on Earth, Roar’s childhood would’ve been the complete opposite. He would have grown up playing sports, watching movies, listening to music, maybe he’d have had a girlfriend. Maybe his parents would still be alive. Maybe, maybe, maybe. Looking back on his disastrous upbringing, it made sense in a screwed-up kind of way that he’d fallen for the one girl who could upend everything he knew.
Leda stirred and stretched. Her fists brushed his abs and she let out a breathless sigh. A flicker of warmth curled in Roar’s belly at the sound. He brushed a lock of hair from her brow with his knuckles. When her eyes opened, she smiled up at him, a smile brighter than the brightest stars. Moments like this made him question not just his purpose, but whether he would ever have a life beyond it.
Those are dangerous questions.
The Elders would tell him the answer was obvious. And easy. And necessary.
“Hey,” she said. “How long was I out for?”
“Not long at all.” The urge to run away from obligations and explore the universe with Leda gnawed at his insides, growing more insistent. He pushed it down, instead focusing on her face. She’d regained some of her color while she slept. “How’re you feeling?”
Leda sat up with her back to the window. “I hate taking naps. I always wake up feeling worse, like I’ve been awake for two days without any sleep.”
Roar laughed. “Naps are great.”
“To each their own, I guess.” She yawned, and for that one fleeting moment, she seemed peaceful. “How long does it take to get to Aurelis?”
“Four months, if we don’t push the drive to full. We can do a series of leaps once…” He paused, not wanting to think about the creature inside Leda or the surgery that would remove it.
“Once Rika’s done with me?”
Bright anger blistered his skin. “It’s not worth it.”
She fixed him with a stern look. “How can you say that? The whole reason you left Aurelis was to find the weapon—to find me.”
“But I didn’t know the risks then.”
“Well, it’s not your choice, Roar. It’s mine.” She turned to look outside, transfixed for a fleeting moment by the beauty of space, just like he was on his first flight. “You know the moment when you realize everything around you is changing and you can’t stop it, no matter how hard you try? I’m there right now. It’s like, I can see things happening but I’m powerless to do anything about them. But this…this is something I can do. And I’m doing it, Roar. Even with the risk of spending the rest of my life paralyzed, or the death part.” She faced him again, and he was struck by the raw emotion in her eyes. “Because it’s my decision, and I don’t want something that’s alive living inside me. All my life, people have been telling me who I am, what I can do. I refuse to let this thing tell me whether I’ll live or die.”
He stood still for a moment, in awe of the raw anger pouring from her. He couldn’t argue with her logic, even if it terrified him that after everything he was ready to sacrifice for her, she might die anyway. “You’re right. It’s your choice, and if you want to go through with the surgery—”
“I do.”
“—then there’s something I want to show you.” He stood and held out his hand.
“I can do it myself.”
“I know you can. Just let me hold your hand for a second.” He tugged her up. “Trust me, Leda, you’re in no danger of me trying to act the hero for you. I’m not afraid to admit you’re braver than I am, and you’ve saved my life twice now. I might deny it if you told anyone else, though.”
Her smoky laughter filled the air. “Fine. So what do you want to show me?”
He handed Leda her crutches. “You’ll see.”
It took about half an hour to arrange the surprise. If not for Leda’s constant questions and pestering, he’d have finished sooner. The girl did not like being out of the loop, even when someone was planning something special for her.
Roar informed the others of his plan; Oline located two suits for them to use, and when Roar gave the order, Stein slowed Equinox down to a crawl. Now he and Leda stood next to an open shuttle bay door, her arms gripping his waist tight though she didn’t need him to support her weight. The bay had been depressurized, and the only thing holding them in place was the magnetized soles of their boots. There was something almost magical about a suit that slid over your body and made the wearer virtually invulnerable.
Size often indicated the potential strength in a suit, until RomTek designed these new second skin versions. The old suits added a couple of inches of height and almost a hundred pounds in weight, but these new models looked more like a bodysuit than armor. When they first came out, no one dared test the suits in combat, let alone up in space. Roar had been the one to take the challenge in both arenas. The first time he put a RomTek suit on, Roar was almost sold. But what made his mind up was the helmet. When he pulled the helmet on, his world shifted into brilliance. He was connected to a simulator ship, and could see and easily access all systems with his mind. It was kind of like waking from a dream and suddenly he could see all around him while staring straight ahead. Readings floated like ghosts and he could control which ones he saw and push aside the less important ones. Calling them back up was as simple as a thought.
He tested out the suit’s armor capabilities by sparring with one of Aurelis’s greatest masters, and Roar beat him easily. The helmet gave an almost futuristic reading of the opponent’s movements, all visible through a screen on the visor. Roar knew ahead of time what was going to happen and adjusted his defense and offense accordingly. Testing the suit for space worthiness proved just as much fun.
Now, putting on a suit and feeling its comfortable lightweight frame hugging his body, locking tight, it brought him a sense of security. For Leda, putting on that suit had given her an exoskeleton, rending her crutches useless and allowing her to walk unaided. But she hadn’t given it a go yet, choosing to use him for support while she shuffled to the dock.
“Stand up straight,” he said, trying not to laugh as she gave a little startled jump at the sound of his voice through her helmet’s system.
“I haven’t walked much without my crutches in like, four years. I guess I’m kind of nervous.”
“No better time than now to take a spacewalk then.” He held out his hand, waiting for her to make the first move.
Leda’s indecision lasted for a brief moment. Then she placed her hand in his, and together, they stepped forward. It took her several steps to get it right, but soon they reached the edge of the dock and were staring the universe in the face. Or the butt. He wasn’t really sure.
“This is the craziest, most intense, and totally insane thing I’ve ever almost done.” She turned and smiled at him, her face a backlit ghost behind the visor. “Don’t let go, okay?”
“I won’t. And remember, we’re tethered to each other, and the ship, too.” He tugged his cord.
“Still.” A happy sigh came clear through the speakers. “Right, let’s do it. Let’s—let’s jump!”
“Jump?”
“
Yeah! Might as well, right?”
Roar smiled. “If you insist. Think about unlocking your boots the second you want to jump, and they’ll release.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that.”
“Okay. On three.” Leda took a sharp breath. “One.”
“Two.”
She bent at the knee, and Roar did the same. Together, they said: “Three.”
Hand in hand, they floated out into the blackness surrounding the ship with Leda’s laughter playing the background soundtrack. After a moment, she released his hand so she could move her arms like a freestyle swimmer through space. He started after her, then changed his mind and watched instead. Drifting in aimless wonder, all inhibitions swept away by the absence of gravity, Leda was beautiful. In her element. Free. Like those birds he saw back on Vardø that bobbed in and out of the water for fish, crossing the skies and chasing one another through the clouds.
He tried not to think of the days to come, of the possibility Leda might not make it through the procedure, or that she’d never walk again. If she survived, they’d soon arrive at his home planet, and he might never see her again. Inside his suit, his hands squeezed tight. Fear and anger twisted his stomach in intricate, impossible-to-untangle knots. Losing her was unavoidable—one way or another, no matter the outcome of this war, there’d be no happily ever after. Not for them.
A bump to the shoulder brought his focus back. Roar pulled up his sensors just as Leda swam above him, sparkly laughter filling his ears. She said something but he barely heard the words, only the music of her voice carried through his speakers, casting sunbeams on his impossible dream. Roar let his body drift, using thrusters to keep close to Leda as she flew through space, a beautiful speck among the stars.
“That was, seriously, the most amazing thing ever. Can we do it again?”
They’d spent four hours outside the ship, until warnings for the oxygen packs beeped. Now it was nearing supper time, though he wasn’t hungry. Leda sprawled out on her bed, showered and dressed in dark jeans and a T-shirt with giant cartoon eyes strategically placed over her chest.
All the Stars Left Behind Page 15
