There was no way she was Calypson. She didn’t live in a nebula, or have glowing eyes. She’d never traveled to Sector Ten like those who revered Calypsons, those who wanted to escape their lives.
Her heart pounded in her ears. She couldn’t hear anything else as she stared at him, frozen in her indecision to run or fight.
Run where?
There was nowhere to go. The storm raged outside. He blocked both the pulse rifle and the exit.
She’d already tried to call for help. The storm was too severe for the grid to connect to this area. Wynn flexed her hand, the PALM she’d donned feeling tight and restrictive against her skin.
One last message from Asia Prime had imported before everything went offline, and it hadn’t been good.
This storm was the biggest the planet had seen, a hurricane that covered most of New Asia and the Pacific Ocean. A certain tone laced the beginning of the message, a “Well, we hope we’ve built all the outposts sturdy enough to survive this.” No help was coming because everyone was in danger.Shelter in place.
She was on her own.
And she was certain there were meteorologists back at the Science Academy shitting themselves with the opportunity to study the phenomenon. They wouldn’t care that she was stuck out here with a person whose eyes glowed and who moved with a speed she could barely track.
Inhuman. The word bounced around in her head, reinforced by the way he held himself, so still the air between them held its breath.
A fresh surge of panic swelled in her throat. Her gaze swept to the outside world, then back to the man. How unhinged was it to get in that hovercart and try to make it to Research Station 214 for help?
What were her other options?
Her thoughts emptied except for what he’d told her. Would believing him be the most idiotic decision of all?
“I want to leave.” She hated how her voice wavered.
He tilted his head, strange eyes glinting, but otherwise remained motionless.
“It is not safe.”
A shiver raced down her spine. When he’d first spoken, his voice had been rough and scratchy. The jagged edges had smoothed some, leaving a deep, gravelly timbre in its wake.
That sense of familiarity rippled through her again, but she was certain she did not know this man. ThisCalypson.
“I want to leave,” she repeated, her teeth gritted.
“It is not safe.”
Her hands flexed in frustration at her sides. “I’m not safe in here with you. I want to leave.”
His head tilted sharply, like he was surprised.How would I even know that?Did Calypsons experience emotion? What she’d seen of them, ofhim, made her think otherwise. She swallowed around the dryness in her throat.
“I will not harm you,” he said after a moment.
A disbelieving breath puffed from her lips. “I can’t trust you.”
His spine straightened. “I have done nothing to harm you.”
“You’re stopping me from leaving. That harms me.”
“It is not safe.”
A growl of frustration escaped her, and he tilted his head in the other direction.
“If it weren’t for the storm, would you allow me to leave?”
“Yes. We would both go. I have come to collect you.”
