noise is deafening, our belly skipping along the waterline. The Longbow grinds slower, hits something hard, yanked around in a half circle until we finally come to a halt. I can see the path we’ve carved through the beach behind us, and so will anyone else overhead. It’s the largest You Are Here arrow we could possibly ask for.
But we’re alive.
The silence is broken only by the soft pings of our cooling hull. I’m heaving for breath, a dozen silent alarms all over my suit informing me that I’m under extreme physical duress—thanks, I hadn’t noticed—and nobody speaks. Slowly, Tyler and Cat swivel around to take a look at the rest of us and confirm we’re all in one piece.
“Well,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady. “I don’t want to be a downer, but I don’t think we’re getting our deposit back on this thing.”
Scarlett’s the first to laugh, unbuckling with shaky hands and doubling over to brace her elbows against her knees, her head in her hands. And one by one the others follow, unbuckling, rising from their chairs, standing, stretching, shaking.
I stay where I am for now, because I’m waiting for enough motor control to raise my hand and hit the release button in the middle of my chest, but nobody seems to realize it’s not a choice.
“Do we have any power left?” Goldenboy asks, not sounding that hopeful.
“Not even enough to run my favorite toy,” Cat says, running a hand over her console. “And that thing gets amazing battery life.”
He shoots her a grin, reaching across to squeeze her shoulder. “That was something, Cat. That was … that was flying.”
She smiles in reply, letting out a shaky breath. “They do say you should try everything once. But that was my once. Never again.”
Everyone laughs for that—we’re all too ready to laugh at anything, too jittery still. But Tyler’s already getting back to work.
“Zila, pull out the biosuits and distribute them. I don’t want anyone breathing one molecule of air without protection. Kal, break out the heavy weapons. We don’t have scopes, so we’ll have to keep watch for pursuers the old-fashioned way. And we’ll need to look over the Longbow, figure out what she needs to get her space-worthy again.”
Aurora is standing now, staring at the displays of the world waiting for us outside. Her eyes are wide, her face pale. Zila hands out the suits, and Kal and Ty and the others start to wriggle into theirs. But Scar rests her hip against the central table in front of me, no doubt noticing I’m still exactly where I was when we landed. With a wink, she leans forward to press my release clasp, and the restraints slither back over my shoulders to retract inside my seat.
“You always could press my buttons,” I tell her, and I sound pretty damn close to myself. But she’s a brilliant Face, as good at her job as her brother is as an Alpha. Of course she was the one who noticed something was off with me.
“Need a hand getting into your biohazard gear?” she asks.
“What, now you’re trying to get me to put even more clothes on? I’m going backwards here.”
“It’s no trouble,” she says, lowering her voice to keep the conversation between the two of us. “How’s your exosuit?”
Truth is, it’s sluggish, reacting slower to my movements than it should be. The EMP that knocked out our Longbow systems hit my suit, too. It’s shielded against that kind of thing, but apparently not perfectly—I’ve never exposed it to a nuclear explosion in space before. And no way do we have the time for me to spend several hours servicing it.
“It’s good,” I insist.
“Fin?” She’s not buying it, but the question’s still gentle. And that’s what slugs me in the guts. I don’t want it from her, of all people. If she looks like she’s sorry for me, like she wants to say something to make me feel better, I’ll …
But when I look up, her blue eyes don’t hold the pity I’m expecting. There’s nothing there except a touch of worry. And I think that’s why I speak, keeping my voice as low as hers. Saying something I’ve never said out loud.
“Scarlett, I don’t want to be the guy who needs help. Every time I’ve shown what others think is weakness, I’ve paid the price for it. Full gravity’s hard? Send me away from Trask, from my friends and family. Need low grav at night to give