“It won’t,” I tell her, too quickly. “We’re dying to get planetside. We’re your backup, we’ll take your lead. We’re ready. This is what we’ve lived until now to do.” I’m parroting her own enthusiasm back at her, the readiness I’ve heard her talk about to Dex a dozen times, and her shoulders drop, relaxing just a fraction.
Then Dex’s voice sounds from above us again. “Forget the destin, thelaunchis gonna go to lixo if your partner doesn’t show up.”
I glance across at the line, and my heart, which had only restarted a couple of beats before, speeds up to double time. We’re not tenth in the queue anymore.
We’re fourth, and Mia’s nowhere to be seen.
There’s a gap between our shuttle and the one in front, and Dex braces against the door frame with both hands as it suddenly lurches forward—it’s on some sort of conveyor belt, and Atlanta and I keep pace, walking along beside it. Ahead, I can see the first shuttle in the queue—alongside four other shuttles from the heads of four other queues—move forward into the airlock.
Once all five shuttles are in position, the airlock doors close behind them. In a moment the outer doors will open, and the five shuttles will launch. Then the airlock will repressurize, and the inner doors will open to admit the next five.
We’re third in the queue.
“Where’s your partner?” Atlanta says again, and I crane my neck, looking at the entrance through which I’m desperately hoping I’ll see Mia appear.
Trust me, Atlanta, I’m more worried than you are.
“She’ll be here,” I say. “No hassle.”
Hopefully she’ll be here before Keats and Nakry show up.
“What do we do if she doesn’t show?” Dex says from thedoorway, anxious. “We’ve got our launch slot, we can’t just give it up. We could land mostways across the planet from our site, if we don’t get out on time.”
Atlanta’s mouth firms to a thin line. “If she doesn’t show, then us three go,” she replies. “I’m not gonna miss the landing site we prepped for. We fought for this destin, and I’m not losing it.”
The shuttle abruptly shifts again, trundling along its own length, as another five disappear into the airlock.
We’re second in the queue.
Perfututi, Mia, what do I do?
I abandon that question as quickly as I ask it, because I know Mia’s answer—I climb into the shuttle and I go, and I try to bluff them until I can get away from them and warn somebody. Because our families are down there, because billions of people are down there, and all of them outweigh one girl left behind in orbit. But just because I know what answer she’d give doesn’t mean I like it.
Because she’s just one girl against billions to them—but not to me.
Dex pulls on his helmet, and Atlanta climbs up onto the step beside him to check the seals at the back, then dons her own.
“Jules,” she calls. “We gotta strap in, we’re next.”
My heart’s hammering. I’m staring at the entrance, the voice in my head chanting a rhythmic command, over and over, lost for anything else to do.Hurry, Mia. Hurry, Mia. Hurry, Mia.
I try for a slow breath, to convince my body for even a few seconds that everything’s all right. To force myself tothink.But this isn’t a water polo match, this isn’t a final exam, and my body’s having none of it. My head’s pounding.
“Jules,” Atlanta calls again, impatient, then ducks into the shuttle to take her seat.
I can’t do this. I can’t leave her.
“Jules,” Dex says, gentler, still on the steps. “We have orders. Prime-One—we can’t risk that destin. I compren you want toshare it with your partner—I wouldn’t want to do this anyways but with Atlanta—but this is bigger than any one of us.”
It’s like he’s echoing my own thoughts.
I force myself to take one step backward toward the shuttle.
One girl left behind in orbit.
Warn Earth, and maybe they can get to her before the Undying do.
One girl left behind.
