CHAPTER 49
Talinn never went to sleep, so she couldn’t blink back into consciousness and reckon with her new universe. She stared at the ship’s controls. Stared at the display. Stared at the coordinates. Stared at the message from Sammer. Stared at the new coordinates. Stared at the approaching planet.
Her eyes burned, her tongue had grown so dry it took up all the space in her mouth, and Talinn stared.
She landed the ship in agreed-upon neutral space. Space that had been marked neutral, before Bee had reneged. Had left.
Talinn stared as the door to her ship opened. Couldn’t bring herself to speak as Jeena asked questions. Had no way to explain she’d never need orienting questions, ever again. Caytil’s face in front of her, then Sammer’s, and Talinn managed a small head shake, or a nod. She wasn’t sure what she was acknowledging or denying, but they stopped trying to make her talk.
Jeena combed over the innards of the ship. Talinn could have told her she wouldn’t find anything, but it wasn’t worth the effort. Jeena would figure it out. She was smart.
Eventually Talinn moved. Left the ship. Wandered through a field. Allowed herself to be tugged into a shelter—barracks, maybe. Golden brown in a field of crimson. She didn’t know what planet it was, but the sky was pink, and feathery clouds floated overhead.
The inside of the building looked like everything else she’d stared at. Talinn pointed her eyes at it and registered nothing about its layout or design.
She lay down, or was helped down, but her eyes didn’t close.
Something cool radiated from her port. Coolness edged to cold, cold to a freeze, followed by a lassitude over the numbness. Darkness trailed after, and she managed a thought.
Finally.
“Talinn.”
The voice was familiar, but not one she wanted. Close, so close, but too loud. Too apart. Not right. She squeezed her eyes closed, struggled to hold unconsciousness close. It splintered and tattered and fled, and she awoke.
“Talinn.”
“Thought I was Newt,” she murmured, the words a croak and barely understandable to her own ears.
“If I’m up, you can be up.” Otie—sounded far more human. Like she might be smiling, even. The idea of that snapped Talinn’s eyes open, and she focused on the other woman with an accusing glare.
“How—” Talinn tried to sit up and failed, contented herself by glaring harder. Other Talinn had had two Bees. She’d probably off loaded one and kept the other and—the thought was so ridiculous it cut off her unhelpful rant and very nearly made her laugh.
“I had an idea it was coming. Probably helped.”
Talinn had lain in the bed and waited to break. Now Other Talinn was here, making it clear she was going to live.
Well. Shit.
“Come on. We still have work to do.”
“Work?” Talinn held up a hand—it flopped more than she intended, but enough to gesture wait—took a deep breath, and shoved herself upright. “There’s still more?”
“Always. It’s still a mess out there.”
“Freedom is messy.” And empty. She didn’t say that part. Here, with the other, older version of herself, she didn’t have to.
“Who do you want to protect, in that messiness?”
Bee. The Eights. The UCF. That had been her answer, once, to a similar question the other Talinn had asked. She’d meant it, at the time. And now she didn’t have Bee. The Eights were scattered. The UCF were liars, fools, or stooges for giant aliens. All of the above. What was her answer now?
And how much of a fool was she, once she realized she’d known it all along?
“Everyone who needs it.” The broken. The lost. Inconceivable that Command, or aliens, or anyone, kept making more of them, unchecked. It wasn’t only the Eights who suffered. It was everyone. Everywhere. Because aliens wanted them to be good little toys and stay in their boxes.
Fuck that.
“There you go, little Talinn. Up and out—they’ve been waiting long enough.”
They were the pincers of a ground assault, her and Bee. Fighting on their fronts and driving closer and closer together. Bottling the enemy and destroying them with heavy artillery fire.
Bee would find her way back, but Talinn couldn’t stare at a ceiling and wait for it.
She could keep busy. She could accomplish something.
Work to do.
She got up.