Wyn lifted my chin. “I will be back soon.”
I captured his mouth and tried to memorize the feel of his lips on mine.
I sat on my small bunk in my cramped berth, relieved of all duties, and attempted to get theAdmiral Vendisconnected from the main NAID hub. A failsafe existed, but for some reason, it wasn’t working. I had no idea why. Edith didn’t know, nor did any of the other seekers that had been selected to work on the problem. I’d been just beginning to build into my AI kill code the ability for the virus to stop individual ships from disconnecting, so the whole system could be infected, but I hadn’t thought I’d succeeded. Apparently, I had.
Only two days had gone by, but it felt as if a lifetime had passed. Worry and stress were my constant states. I hadn’t leftmy berth once, and only Edith could speak to me. She was trying to fight the slow-growing virus, picking up the slack by infiltrating theAdmiral Venas well as trying to break the tie between the ship and the hub. She hadn’t succeeded yet, but I was willing to take any assistance I could get.
This problem needed to be solved. Tamkolvanloknol was in danger, and I was the one who’d put it there. I couldn’t live with that.
My screen flashed, and Dilvonsil’s link appeared. My finger hesitated over it. I wasn’t supposed to talk to anyone, and Qinlin could see everything I was doing. Also, no doubt Dilvonsil would lecture me. I’d been foolish. So utterly foolish. Did I really want to listen to them chastise me?
I pushed the link. I was weak.
Their face appeared, and I cowered on my bunk. “Wyn,” Dilvonsil said, “are you well? I’ve been so worried for you.”
Tears burned the backs of my eyes. “I made a mistake.”
“You did,” they said, but then gave a soft smile. “And now, you will fix it.”
I shook my head. “What if I can’t?”
“Then you can’t.”
“I’ll be charged. My life is over.” Tears slid down my cheeks. All of my careful work was wasted. I would lose Monqilcolnen, and that was even a greater blow.
“No, it’s not,” Jemtonkilsol snapped, coming on the screen. He stared at me. “Your life is just beginning.”
“Do you know that with certainty?” I asked, hearing my own desperation.
“I have no miracles to share, Wyn.” He wrapped an arm around his mate, who stared forlornly at me. “But your life isn’t over. I, Dilvonsil, and Monqilcolnen will protect you. More than that, I do not think you need us to.”
“You don’t?” I asked, eyebrows gathering close together.
“No. You can fix this. You can stop what you created. You are so very smart, Wyn. I trust you with my child, and I trust you to end this.”
More tears slid down my cheeks.
“I trust you too,” Dilvonsil said. “In fact, I’m fond of you. More than fond. I love you dearly, and I love how much you care for my son.”
I sobbed, my head bowing, unable to stem the tide. Never had I heard that from a parental figure. Only Urgg, Edith, and Seth had ever said those words to me.
“We love you,” Jemtonkilsol said. “We do. Now, fix this so you can return to Monqilcolnen.”
“How is he?” I asked.
“Upset,” his xapher said. “Very upset.”
“He needs you. Badly, Wyn.” Jemtonkilsol leveled me a look that had my shoulders straightening. “So you have to be there for him. Not just now, but for the rest of his life. He needs you and will continue needing you.”
I wiped my tears and raised my chin. “I will be beside him. I promise.”
Jemtonkilsol smiled. “I believe you.”
They both said goodbye, ending the session.
I stared at the blank screen. I hoped Qinlin didn’t notice my unauthorized ping, though she seemed disinclined to follow Talvax’s orders, only doing the minimum. I wasn’t sure how or if she would punish me, but I didn’t want to get in any more trouble. I curled up in my bunk and continued to attack the link between the hub and ship. I wouldn’t give up. I couldn’t. Jemtonkilsol and Dilvonsil trusted me, and I refused to let them down.
Chapter 49
