No known way off the planet.
The visor pinpoints my location relative to local civilizations—useful information. I prefer not to interact with anyone on this planet.
There is a Sabaaki village to the south and an Oo’rahim colony to the north. Now I know exactly where to avoid. The only person onthis planet that matters is Bri. The instant I find her, I’ll drag her ass back home and never think about this place again.
Seventy percent probability of survivalflickers across my field of vision. I thought I had better odds than that. My bionic arm is already reacting poorly to the environment. Sand has worked its way into the joints. The gears hitch when I move the arm.
Fuck. Every second on this planet increases the likelihood of permanent damage.These things are hard to come by, and I’d rather not have to deal with the hassle. As it stands, it’s going to take me weeks to get my arm working properly again.
My visor locks on the horizon. It takes a second for my eyes to adjust to the distance, but very clearly I can make out a trail of footprints through the sand.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
The visor shows what my own vision can’t: the green outline of another lifepod on the backside of a distant hill and farther in the distance a tiny bright red dot.
Biosignature Identified: Human
Identity: Brisa Mitchell
This is bad. Worse than bad—it’s annoying.
My objective hasn’t changed, but it is getting more complicated by the second. Why can’t that female stay where she’s supposed to?
It shouldn’t be a problem to get to her. I’m bigger and faster and should be able to catch up in less than a day.
She should not be out here alone. These desolate planets are the perfect place for outlaws and criminals to hide out. I should know.
THREE
Bri
The blinding sun makes it hard to keep my head up, and watching my clumsy feet is extremely discouraging. So, I do my best to aim for the blurry space between the hot ground and the scorching sky. The view hasn’t changed in hours, so I have to trick my brain into thinking I’ve made progress.
You’ve got this, Bri. Keep going. You’re almost there.
I’m nearly swept away by a gust of hot wind that does nothing to cool me down. It only blows more dust into my parched mouth. I try to draw saliva to wet my throat and come up empty-handed. Even my sweat dried up hours ago.
Every night on j’Tilak, I imagined all the great adventures out in the universe waiting for me. This is not what I had in mind. But itisa new planet, and it’s pushing me to my limits. I would prefer less sand and heat. Whatever—this is exciting and an opportunity to test my survival skills.
I reach into the bag and pull out one of the few remaining hydropacks. This fist-sized pouch holds the key to mysurvival. Shaky hands unscrew the cap, and I carefully raise it to my mouth. All it takes is a few small sips and I’m a new woman.
“See? It’s not that bad. All you needed was a little water,” I assure myself out loud. A list is forming in my mind of things I want to do when I get out of here. I addSee a psychiatrist about talking to myselfand carefully cap the water and store it away.
The solitary sun baking me alive confirms my suspicion that I am not on the beautiful and temperate j’Tilak with its two suns. I wonder what Elowen is doing there right now. She’s probably in the lab trying to focus while Aro hovers around, trying to be useful, but getting in the way.
Way before Aro hulked out because of the whole mate thing, I knew they were made for each other. There is nothing more obnoxious than two people in love, so I’m surprised I miss them already.
I pin my hopes to the spindly bushes dotting the landscape. They’ve got to be a sign of water. I try to remember all the survival skills I learned as a kid. Finding water is the first and most important step.
With no comms and no sign of civilization, I have no choice but to keep moving forward. Jamison’s voice echoes in my head:No retreat, no going back—only forward.
Being out in the wild is nothing new. There was never money for actual vacations growing up, so instead we would grab our packs and head out into the wilderness. Sitting around at home drove my dad crazy. He would announce it was time for an adventure, and the entire house would jump into action. Jamison would plan the route, Nate would double-check the supplies, and Hollis and I did our best to keep up. I inherited our father’s restless streak—it doesn’t let me stay in one place for too long.
Hollis would turn this into some game if he were here. He'd find some rock or stick and give it a name, personality, and backstory. It's his way of distracting me from miserable conditions. Playfulness always annoys Nate and Jamie, but it keeps us younger kids going.
Nate and Jamie prefer a battle for dominance to silly distractions.All they care about is beating each other at anything and everything. Something as simple as a leisurely walk home or a friendly game of Cubes turns into a fight with those two.
One night we were all helping Mom bring in groceries. Nate and Jamie grabbed as many bags as they could and were racing up the seven stories to our apartment. I can’t remember who swung first, but there was more than one black eye that night. By morning, they were back to being best friends.
