“With my mentor, we studied long-dead places and people and committed them to memory. And sometimes, when we could, we returned artifacts to the places they were supposed to be.”
I carefully worked my way across a rather thick section of vines on the floor, refusing to trip over them again. “So you steal things?”
“Is it really stealing when it’s not theirs to begin with?”
“That’s a fair point,” I acknowledged. “Is that how you got the lightsaber?”
He cocked his head. “Yeah, actually. My mentor wanted to deliver it back to where it belonged, and we just got caught up in something too big.” He sounded regretful, and I wanted to reach for him and pull him into a hug.
And what a strange thoughtthatwas.
Did the pollen also affect my emotions?
We ventured through another room, where the tubes ended. Encased power cables were hooked up to a generator of sorts, and beside that were large red barrels of fuel stacked beside smaller silver ones.
“Ah!” he said in relief. “Here we go.”
My eyes widened. “Are youmad? That’srhydonium!”
He didn’t see an issue. “It’s fuel.”
“Sure, if you want this entire planet blown to bits! And didn’t you just say that the pollen eats throughmetal?”
“These barrels aren’t metal, for one, and both that and the coaxium seem to be stable,” he added, glancing at the smaller cylinders. “We shouldn’t take it all, but one barrel should be good, yeah?”
My eye twitched. But then I squeezed my eyelids shutand breathed out through my mouth. It wasn’t like any of us had weapons that could ignite the fuel anyway.
Except for the lightsaber and my flare gun, I reminded myself. Neither of which would be used within a billion meters of this place.
“Let’s go tell Veebee and Entoo,” I said, because the canisters looked heavy. “They’ll make quicker work of refueling than we will.”
“Good, I didn’t want to suddenly and mysteriously hurt my back…” He dramatically rubbed the lower part of his back for show, and I rolled my eyes.
“Do you think this generator panel still works?” I asked, motioning to the switches. “I think I saw a communication console in the first room. Should we try it?”
“I don’t see why not,” he replied, and blew the dust off the panel. The labels were scratched into the metal beside the switches. “We can put some fuel in one of the generators and see if anything comes on.”
“Didn’t you say you hurt your back?” I mused. My nose had grown used to the sweet smell of the flowers. They weren’t so bad. Telling the truth wasn’tawful, even though I really, really didn’t like some of the things I’d admitted to.
He feigned surprise. “You really do care about me!”
“Of course I do.” I followed one of the cables to the generator in question. To my surprise, there was stillfuel inside, so I returned to the panel. “Why would you think I didn’t care?”
“Because the only other person who ever has died—aaaaah, and there’s the truth pollen working,” he added with a nervous laugh. “Forget I said anything?”
“I don’t want to—argh.” I winced. “Sorry.”
He massaged the bridge of his nose. “You need to stop being so nice. It makes me think you want something, Starlight.”
“I don’t want anything,” I replied, puzzled, and then realized with a strange sort of relief that I had to tell the truth.
He hissed air out through his teeth. “Except I don’t believe you.”
“I can’t lie.”
“I know! And yet I still feel like a gulliblewermowhenever you say it. Because everyone in the galaxy wants something, Starlight. Everyone. I feel like you don’t trust me. I feel like I can’t trust myself. Everyone I’ve ever gotten close to, anyone I’ve everliked, has died, and why do I thinkyou’llbe any different—oh, void take me, please tell me toshut up—”
I grabbed his face with my hands so he could look at nothing but me. The flower tucked behind his ear fell away. “Hey, stowaway. Shut up.”
