The scary part was that I was starting to believe it too. The technical challenges would be enormous, and the risks were substantial, but the basic theory was sound. If we could access the tower control systems and understand how they’d been designed to interact with the planetary atmosphere, it might be possible to restore stability.
Ifthe Kythrans were willing to cooperate.Ifthey were even still alive. If the control systems weren’t too damaged to repair.
A lot of ifs, but it was the best chance any of us had.
“When do we leave?” I asked.
“Onetick,” Vikkat replied. “Time to eat, prepare, check equipment. Then we go.”
As he and his companions left to make their final preparations, I turned to Torven. “This could work,” I said. “If we can find them, if they’re willing to help, we might actually be able to fix this.”
“This has to work,” he muttered. “Or we are never leaving this place.”
“Then we better hope Vikkat keeps his word about protecting us,” I said quietly.
“And if he doesn’t, we improvise,” he said, sensing that I needed some extra reassurance. “Like we’ve been doing since this whole thing started.”
He nodded, and I could see the familiar determination settling over his features. Whatever challenges lay ahead, whatever dangers we were about to face in the underground caverns where ancient enemies might still be hiding, we’d face them together.
The mating bond that had been driving us both to distraction was finally working in our favor, giving us the unshakeable connection we’d need to survive whatever came next.
I just hoped it would be enough.
CHAPTER 15
TORVEN
Atick, according to Vikkat, was roughly equivalent to forty-five standard minutes. Not a lot of time to mentally prepare for an expedition into malevolent territory where we’d be hunting ancient enemies who might not want to be found.
I watched Zara methodically pack her scientific equipment into one of the sturdy D’tran backpacks as she quietly talked to herself. She sounded like she was writing a report out loud, and then I realized that she probably was. She did have an implanted translation unit, which she never used, and it could probably record things if she wanted it to. Either way, Zara was being Zara, and I was so enamored with her, I didn’t care what she was muttering about. Her movements were efficient despite the lingering flush on her cheeks from our earlier activities. Every time she bent over to secure another piece of gear, I had to force myself to focus on my own preparations instead of on the appealing curve of her ass.
The mating bond was not helping with my concentration.
“You’re staring at me,” she said without looking up.
“I’m not staring.”
“You absolutely are.” She straightened and turned to face me, hands on her hips. “I can feel you staring. The bond works both ways, remember?”
Right. The bond. Which meant she could probably sense the spike of arousal that shot through me every time I looked at her, along with the underlying current of fear that I was working very hard to suppress.
“We should talk about what happens if this goes wrong,” I said, deflecting from the staring conversation.
“Define wrong.” She went back to packing, stuffing what looked like atmospheric sensors into a padded case. “There are so many ways this could go wrong, I’m not sure where to start the list.”
“If the D’tran turn on us. If we find Kythrans and they’re antagonistic. If Vikkat’s promises about protecting you don’t hold up if you can’t fix the weather problem.”
She was quiet for a moment, her hands stilling on the equipment. “You’re thinking about exit strategies.”
“Always.”
“That’s very warrior of you.” She closed the case with a decisive snap. “But we don’t have many options, Torven. We need the D’tran to find our crew. We need the Kythrans to access the weather control systems. And we need both groups to cooperate if we have any hope of getting off this planet alive.”
“I know.” I finished checking the charge on the portable scanner and strapped it to my wrist. “That doesn’t mean Ihave to like how dependent we are on the goodwill of strangers.”
“They’re not strangers. They’re your distant cousins who’ve been living in isolation for thousands of years.”
“Which makes them strangers with a genetic connection,” I pointed out. “Not a guarantee of trustworthiness.”
