This would be a good time for me to jump in with the fact that Mount Kilmon neverusedto be poisonous. Except doing so would also mean admitting I’m from here, which would mean admitting I hadn’t admitted that sooner, which suddenly feels a lot scarier than it should. It’s not just that I’m worried the Sixers will be confused by my reluctance to disclose my origins (though they’d have every right to their confusion). It’s just… everything. Being within walking distance of Longji, hearing Ran Doc Min’s dire words, remembering what Professor Morton said about MasterIra’s imminent demise, seeing my mother in a crowd of Determinists. I don’t know how to break all this down, or even where tobeginbreaking it down, and on top of all that, Beckly (the earlier, shittier version of Beckly) must have gotten into my head, because I’m standing here like a nematode watching my fellow fleetmates take up space like they own the place, because they do own the place, whereas I’m the new guy who doesn’t yet know where I fit. If I fit. Aside from a vacant spot on the love seat next to Lament (which is really built for one normal-size human and not two fully grown men), I don’t see any open chairs. Do I sit on the floor? Continue standing in the doorway like I’m a flight risk? If Master Ira were here, he’d say I’m fixating on small problems to avoid the larger issue, and he’d beright, but I don’t know what todo about it.
The conversation is turning from rabid gases to planetary evacuation strategies when Lament pulls out his handheld and starts typing. A moment later, my pocket vibrates.
What are you doing? reads his message.
I glance at Lament. He’s got an arm over the back of the couch, one ankle balanced on his knee. I get the sense that he’s trying not to look at me.
Standing here?I type back. And then, because we’re already messaging each other from twenty feet away and it’s already weird:You?
Waiting for you to come sit next to me.
Relief bubbles through me like fizz in a soda can.Don’t want to sit next to you.
No?
You’re not even my partner.
He rolls his eyes. Vera catches this and glances at his illuminated handheld, then at mine. She coughs in a poor attempt to cover her smile.
You’re getting Vera excited, I type.
I am doing no such thing.
Her eyes are morphing into giant hearts.
You’re seeing things.
Did you know she once compared us to Malcolm and Harley?
The characters fromThe Starless Night?
They’re a couple and they fall in love.
Lament’s ears go bright pink. He hovers his thumbs over his handheld, but rather than reply to my latest message, he clicks the device off and tucks it under his leg. I feel a pang of disappointment, except then he looks at me and says in this voice I find deeply, deeply troubling, “Hartman.”
I am suddenly very interested in Toph’s assessment of how many people we could feasibly stuff onto an evacuation spacebus. “Hmm?”
“Come here.”
It’s not healthy, surely, the way my stomach reacts to that command. “Come where?”
“Here,” he emphasizes.
So… I go there.
The love seat is as narrow as I observed earlier, but Lament doesn’t move his arm when I slide down next to him. Doesn’t scoot away when my knee knocks against his. And now I’m possibly even more conflicted than before, because does he even realize what he’s doing to me?
The problem with an evacuation, Jester is saying,is that Mount Kilmon is expected to erupt in less than two months. There are four billion people living on Planet Venthros. We will never be able to transport them all to safety in time.
“So, what?” Toph asks. “We just let Doc Min distribute his neutralizer and save everyone himself?”
Vera looks aghast. “If we do that, we will effectively be handing our job to a man we don’t trust, who is using technology we don’t understand.”
“We can’t simply let Doc Min make the calls,” Youvu Hum agrees, “but nor can we attempt an evacuation at the same time the Determinists are distributing their neutralizer. If that happens, people will be forced to choose between us, and given the odds of success, they will undoubtedly choosehim.”
“Further undermining the Legion,” Vera finishes, “giving Doc Min morepower, and possibly setting him up for some treacherous future ploy we can’t yet foresee.” Shethunksher head into her hands. “All of this just reinforces the fact that we need to speak to Doc Min, and we need to do it soon.”
“Sergeant Forst said the Legion has already tried to confront him…?” I start, leaving the question hanging.
