He wondered if Kat had fallen asleep instantly, or if she still fought it. When he’d left her, she was lying helpless, and maybe a little delirious, curled up by the wall in that new suit of hers. She’d given him a lazy smile as he’d slipped out to grab them some food.
He reached the floor of the Canteen and the inaccessible back entrance where he knew exactly which lines to hotwire. It wasthe work of but a moment, and then he had his pickings of the ship’s heartily stocked pantry. He loaded his pockets first with fruit bars and legume jerky, snagging a couple of those red bean cookies Whistler had raved about for good measure. And then he was out the main Canteen doors.
He was ready to climb back up the Heptagon when his eyes fell on a second stairway, the one that would take him down a level. This one seemed to glow brighter tonight, almost like it was beckoning him.
Maybe he was more tired than he’d thought.
But the longer he stood there, the more his mouth dried out. The more that downward stairway seemed to call to him. The number of times he had trod those stairs to the greenhouses to clear his head, or to escape and find respite… That is, up until a couple of weeks ago.
He sighed. He sincerely hoped Kat had decided to let sleep take her. He might be a while.
On heavy feet, Lee accepted the call and followed the stairway to where it opened on a set of jagged doors. He’d been putting this off, not ready to face the truths awaiting him. But now, with the prospect of going out on another raid later this morning, it suddenly felt imperative. Like he couldn’t put it off any longer.
The greenhouse doors were unlocked tonight. There was no reason to bar them from students during the off hours. But he still held his breath as he scanned his hyperband, the hairs standing on his arms as he drew in a breath, the milli-seconds nibbling away at his gut and following up with his lungs.
The doors slid apart.
Paired with the stillness of the ship, the usual comforting glow of the greenhouse lights warming the soil plots sent a chill skittering up his spine. But there they were. The blue-green lights of Segura.
The early neutrino designs for their technology had existed all of this time, right here in front of him. Its capabilities untapped. Its expanse untried. And its potential for fusion with the dark rays—
Perfectly dangerous.
The volatile combination had a past dangerous enough to warrant a universal ban from their galaxy. Its destructive history, buried, like the existence of the very ship they’d set foot upon only a week prior. A ship no cadet or scientist would ever set foot upon again.
He’d come down here fearing the emotions the lights would dredge up, like the Commanding General’s words that had trailed after him, recirculating like the old air on the ship cleaned anew. “A fool’s dream,” General Narron had claimed.
But standing here today only reaffirmed his conviction.
Lee had stood there in Segura’s greenhouses and spent time on that ship. He’d conversed with several of the scientists and Segura residents. He’d seen it all with his bare eyes.
And that final evening, with the transports…
He’d stood there too. You couldn’t fake emotion like that. Those hadn’t been farcical dreams concocted with wishful thinking. Whatever their secrets, they had believed it was real.
Just like it had been real to him.
His eyes stole away from the blue-green lights as he forced his feet forward. This time, they glided with him, lighter, freer, and with less resistance.
Two weeks was not a long time to be away from the greenhouses for most. But it was a light-year for Lee.
He wasn’t sure what he’d find as he strode down the aisles to the community plot near the back, but the deeper he trod, the easier his steps came. And in no time at all, he was slowing, his whole body seeming to relax.
There she was:Chlidanthus Aster,flower of the stars. And a warrior, at that. He hadn’t needed to think or even reference the plot again to feel its name on his lips. He’d known it the moment his eyes had first landed on the delicate moon-dust petals that morning on Kafron. With the havoc the dark rays had wreaked on this single flower, with its altered composition and the tests they’d run to confirm, it shouldn’t be alive and growing. And yet, still it fought.
Leaning against the garden-bed’s walls, a small trowel sat next to a worn pair of men’s gloves. A gift from the greenhouse caretaker.
Ilan had known he’d return here before long. And by the looks of things, she’d taken more than enough care of the small flower to ensure it had been carefully watered and cultivated in his absence.
Slipping the gloves over his hands and scooping up the little shovel, he started to work on one of the greenhouse plots.
Kat was already on the central skywalk and waiting for him when he arrived later that morning. He carried a couple of power drinks in one hand and one of the fruit bars, already peeled and half eaten, in his other; he couldn’t remember for the life of him where the cookies had ended up.
At his approach, she turned away from the railing with that same lazy smile from last night. Quite the alteration to her usual sleepy facade, a remnant of the rough night before a raid.Although, her smile had been somewhat sharpened with sleep. More mischief marred its edges.
She accepted her drink without remark. He took another bite of his fruit bar, cracking open his power drink as he took up a spot beside her.
“You’re looking good—rested,” he clarified with an airy chuckle when her eyes took on a more lascivious look. “It seems like you’re sleeping a little better these days.”
