“Usually, it’s a cheer followed by a round of Moran whisky and gloating for days. But you look like you’re spiraling.”
She huffed a quiet breath. “I don’t know how I’m not supposed to. I mean, it’s not every day you learn you touched a random alien object and got infected because itwantedto corrupt you.”
“You know,” he said, sitting next to her, “many people spend their lives trying to get corrupted by ancient alien artifacts. You should count yourself lucky.”
Gemma snorted. “I’ve never been lucky. I’d really rather not start now.”
Gunner offered a lopsided grin before stretching his legs out in front of him and looking up at the glowing nebula in the ceiling. “I’ve spent the better part of ten years chasing ghoststories and forgotten glyphs. Cataloging fragments. Translating guesses. Hoping—praying, even—that something like this still existed. And then I got the call about you.”
She blinked at him. “Wait.You’rethe Revarian lore specialist?”
“I am. But I typically don’t go around gloating.” He winked. “Not what you expected?”
“Not at all.”
He shrugged. “Good. Keeps people on their toes.”
For several moments, they sat in silence. Gemma hugged her knees to her chest, trying to make sense of everything—of herself. If anyone was able to give her answers, it’d be Gunner.
“So,” she said slowly, “if you’re the expert, what was that thing I touched?”
Gunner tilted his head back and sighed like she’d asked him to summarize the cosmos in a sentence. “Honestly? I don’t know exactly. But based on the carvings, the radiation pattern, and that nifty little cellular rewrite you’ve got going on, I think it was a memory vault. Or a conduit. Maybe both.”
She blinked. “That’s . . . not helpful.” The sarcasm landed hollow, because, truth was, she wanted a clean, clinical, explainable answer. Half-guesses like “conduit” and “cellular rewrite” were none of those things.
“I said I was an expert, not a miracle worker,” Gunner replied, giving her a half-grin. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Whatever the orb was, it wasn’t just decoration. It was built to do something. My guess? It stored the Revarians’ knowledge or essence. Some would say ‘power.’ And when you touched it, it recognized something in you and transferred what was inside to you.”
Heat burned up her neck. “I’m human. What could it possibly have recognized?”
Gunner shrugged. “I’m not saying you were destined or chosen or any of that space-destiny, fluffy stuff. But artifacts like that don’t survive thousands of years by accident. They’re protected. Hidden. Usually sealed with triggers. You grew up on this planet, right?”
She nodded as she wrapped her arms around her legs.
“Then you descended from the first humans to inhabit Reva. That was approximately two-hundred years ago. Something in your very DNA could’ve been altered by generations living and growing in this environment. Even when our ancestors were still on Earth, you could determine where they lived by looking at their genetic makeup. So, maybe whatever was in that orb found something familiar in you.”
Her heartbeat thrashed in her ears. “And if it didn’t find someone familiar? If it just . . . needed someone?”
Gunner gave a thoughtful hum. “Then I guess you were the first one who showed up.”
Gemma rested her forehead on her knees. Why—why—did she have to touch the blasted alien artifact? Even if Gunner was right, and she had indeed inherited some special gene, she could’ve ignored it. She didn’t have to palm the bloody thing.
A thought tickled the back of her mind. The moment she’d neared the orb, it had drawn her in like it was metal and she was a magnet. Maybe she’d had no choice but to touch it. Maybe ithadfound something familiar in her.
Her eyes burned. What had she inherited from Reva other than scars? Was she carrying something ancient, something buried so deep in her bloodline that no one had thought to look?
The walls pulsed faintly violet when she took too long to blink. She shut her eyes and focused on her breaths as unease wormed into her bones.
Gunner patted her arm. “I think you need to rest. I’ll make sure no one bothers you. That’s the one good thing about beingPhoebe’s younger brother. Everyone’s so afraid of her, they’re willing to do whatever I ask.”
The humor in his voice should’ve made Gemma smile, but fear had gripped her heart in a vise. She waited until he’d walked off before pushing herself to her feet and dragging her backsack closer to the wall, deeper within the inlet. Then she began to set up her shelter, and the corner of her mouth twitched upward as she recalled the night Christian had shown her how to use it.
Her heart hit her feet as tears filled her eyes. She really wished he was here right now.
When she finally crawled into the shelter and lay on the mat, she expected her mind to spin, to replay every second since finding the orb’s location. But her body was too tired to care. The moment she found a comfortable position, exhaustion claimed her.
Christian tapped on his comm. The biochip behind his ear had signaled both an incoming call and message while he’d spoken with Philip.
Gemma.Fuck.
