“My brother is dead,” Rok stated.
“You found his remains?”
“No. But I’ve accepted the truth. I’ve been chasing a futile hope. There’s no sense searching.”
“So, what’s your plan?”
He shrugged. “I don’t have one.” He paused. “What’s your plan?”
“I don’t have one either.”
The air went perfectly still as they stared at each other. He could hear a squirrel chittering and a bird squawking. Hear his own blood rushing in his ears as his heart pounded. “Could we not have a plan…together?” A perilous, ridiculous request.
Perilous because Zok might strike him dead. A Progg did not plead. And to ask of the enemy? Ridiculous. The situation hadn’t changed since she’d told him no a short time ago.
She averted her gaze and let out a sigh of exasperation.
His shoulders slumped.
“For how long?” she asked.
“Until you don’t want to anymore.” He held his breath.
“What would we do?”
“I guess we’d have to find out together.”
“Why?” She lifted her shoulder. “Why me? You don’t need me.”
I do need you.A void in his being craved her company, her rare smiles, her conversation. Her scent enticed him; her voice entranced him.
“If we encounter other humans, what happens then?” she asked.
“Nothing.”
“Aren’t you bound by duty to kill them?”
“Yes. But I won’t,” he answered honestly.
Her eyebrows rose skeptically.
“I didn’t kill you,” he pointed out. “I guess you could call me a deserter.” Adisgrace. “I can’t look another being in the face and kill them.”
“And here I thought I was special.”
“You are.” Because of her, he was coming to understand himself much better—and perversely, understand himself much less.
“What if we run into another Progg?”
“I’ll handle it. Where’s the vaporizer?” His gaze slid to the bag slung over her shoulder.
She tucked her arms close around her body and gripped the strap. “I, uh, threw it away.”
“You what?”
“I threw it away. It didn’t work!”
He couldn’t believe it. “I told you it wouldn’t work!”
