“Little late for that,” Holden said.
The detective chuckled, and Holden’s back spasmed. For an instant, he was in the bright room. The blue fireflies whirled around him, and there were words in their flickers that he could almost understand. He’d decode them, given time. Waves of nausea washed over him, and vertigo made the room spin like a top, but that was just his inner ears changing. He closed his eyes and willed himself elsewhere.
Deep in the station, Teresa was flying too fast. She’d missed the turn that led back to the surface, to the Falcon. He shifted the passageways in front of her, guiding her back the right way. He could see her jaw clenched tight, determination on her face that bordered on anger. He wished there was something more he could do.
The nature of space shifted, and the subtle lines fought to shift it back. Holden pushed, righting them. Space stayed just space. For the moment.
“You remember the first time we did this?” Miller said.
“We have never done this before.”
“You know what I mean. Eros. We were sitting there waiting for the radiation to slough all our skin off. You were talking about some kids’ show.”
“Misko and Marisko.”
“That’s the one.” Miller hummed the theme song, waving his hand like a conductor in front of an orchestra.
Holden smiled. “Haven’t thought about that in years. I committed great sins in a past life to keep getting stuck with you when I’m dying.”
“Nope. You are coming apart, but this isn’t dying. Goes on a lot longer than dying.”
“Unless something interrupts the process.”
“Yeah,” Miller agreed. “Unless that.”
Teresa was coming close to the entrance. A few hundred more meters, and she’d be out. He hoped she remembered to put her helmet back on. Normally, he wouldn’t have worried, but she was upset.
“That was the first time I told Naomi that I loved her,” Holden said. “She handed me my ass on a plate.”
“You had it coming. And hey, it ended better than it started.”
Teresa reached the edge of the station, and then went beyond it. He could feel her hesitate, lose her way, and then find the Falcon and launch herself toward it. At the gates, ships transited out, first one and then a handful. The empty space became a little emptier. Teresa shifted closer to the Falcon. The things on the other side stirred like predators scenting something—smoke or blood. Unsure whether to attack.
Teresa reached the airlock and passed inside. Holden felt himself relax. He waited for the ship to move. For its drive to bloom. The minutes passed slowly. Painfully.
“Come on,” he said. “Come on. Get out of here. Please don’t stay. Please go.”
The inner door of the airlock opened, and Teresa spilled inside. Her eyes were wild and tearstained. Her mouth was a square gape of rage.
“Where’s my ship?!”
The Falcon was crawling with activity. The crew making last-minute repairs and preparations for the burn, Amos reassembling the dog’s custom crash couch, Naomi coordinating the evacuation with the last stragglers. She almost hadn’t come down to meet Teresa. Naomi could see the moment the girl recognized her. The combination of relief and the focus of finding a target was complex.
“Where did the Roci go?” Teresa shouted.
“Alex had to take it,” Naomi said. “We’ll be on the Falcon for now.”
“No one said that was going to happen!”
“Hey, Tiny,” Amos said, floating in from Naomi’s right. “Thought you might—”
Teresa shrieked and launched herself at the mechanic. She slammed into his shoulder, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his arm. Adrenaline hit Naomi’s bloodstream like a hammer, and then she heard the girl sobbing. Amos steadied himself with his other hand as Teresa gripped him with her whole body. His flat, black eyes shifted to Naomi and he gestured. What do I do with this?
Naomi raised her shoulders. I don’t know. Awkwardly, Amos reached over and patted Teresa’s head. “It’s okay, Tiny. You’re safe now. We got you.”
He looked utterly out of his depth, and as unmistakably human as she had seen him since his change. A moment later, Cara and Xan appeared, sliding through the air to Amos’ side, touching Teresa’s shoulder to let her know they were there, and then wordlessly embracing her. The one shattered girl enfolded and comforted by the three gray-skinned, black-eyed people. It looked like a painting. Alien and beautiful. Teresa’s sobbing slowed, but her grip stayed tight.