Chapter 7

I winced at the pressure of her hand and what I knew I had to tell her. Could I trust her with the one piece of information that didn't spotlight me in my finest hour? At Smixton, stealing was stealing, no matter how small the object, and though it wasn't as serious as murder, this particular crime I'd actually committed. I rolled my lips together and glared at the crook of her elbow while she capped the tube. The bruise had already faded, and the pain had eased considerably.

I took a breath. "I stole some iron washers."

"That was dumb," Moon said, and that was all she said about the whole metal thing. She never threw questions at me like every other welding jerk on the planet who thought they had a right to know why I lived my life the way I did.

"It was a moment of weakness."

Moon nodded and shot a grin at Franco, who winked. "Believe me, I've had those. A lot."

Franco's warm cinnamon eyes lit with his smile, and the atmosphere between the two lovebirds charged a blush into my cheeks just from my proximity. I cleared my throat to remind them I still sat there.

"Right, well," Franco said with a small chuckle. "How do you even know the Saelis took her? They aren't known for their prolific ransom notes."

"I don't. Not for sure, anyway," I said. "The Ringers think she wasn't taken by Saelis because of the last word she uttered into her telecom, but they're up to their general what-the-fuckery instead of pouncing on this. It's the Saelis. I can feel it in my gut."

"What was her last word?" Moon asked.

"Sail," I said.

"An old rebel term?"

Franco rubbed at the solid bricks that built his stomach, a frown pulling at his eyebrows. "A term derived from the days of the Black War when soldiers broke from their duties, ended all ties with the real world, and went rogue to drift through space. Some say they did it because they turned their back on the human race to side with the Saelis. I didn't know that was still a thing people did."

"People might do it, but not my sister. She's a doctor, not a soldier. She was trying to say Saelis, but must've got cut off."

Moon shook her head. "But what if that wasn't what she meant? Because homonyms, Absidy. What if she meant sale, as in S-A-L-E. Maybe she went on a shopping spree. Think about it."

"No. She would never just up and leave Pop and me and go to deep space for the hell of it. She loves us too much to do something so reckless. She must've had a reason to go there, and now... I have to bring her back." I hated the desperation in my voice, the tears at the back of my throat, but I couldn't rein my feelings in. Not when it came to Ellison.

"Well, it's a long way there to find someone who, and please don't hate me for saying this, may not want to be found," Moon said. "Why else would she switch off her telecom?"

"She wouldn't just leave." I stood to pile random things into my suitcase, including my picture of Feozva and all the iron I had.

A holographic three-dimensional map of a cluster of solar systems burst out of Moon's eyes, courtesy of her Mind-I, and filled the room. Mayvel, one of the smallest planets in this system, spun lazily on its axis. Rich blues and reds dusted with gold circled the center in a perfect ring.

Wix, the next planet over which looked like a big swirl of orange and blue, was where I'd called home for the first fifteen years of my life. The next three I'd spent on the Nebulous, which orbited around Mayvel in a continuous loop for the benefit of rich sightseers whose wallets were too heavy to see space in anything but a luxurious cruise liner. I should be on that ship now, in our tiny but cozy service quarters, with Pop and Ellison within touching distance.

"Absidy?" Moon said softly. She studied me through the spinning, rotating map. Lines of Mayvel's latitude and longitude gridded her face with squares, but the planes of her face stretched and warped them into imperfect shapes. "Are you deliberately not looking at where you're talking about going?"

"Of course not." I scoffed, but maybe I was. I plotted the path, trying to imagine the exact route Ellison had taken.

On the far side of Wix, she would have travelled through the space-bending ring orbiting it to thrust her out of this solar system and into the next, then through another into what used to be Earth's solar system faster than light. Everything in that system and beyond was considered deep space. Few dared to go there because that was Saelis territory. Besides, there was nothing to go to anyway unless you wanted to meet up with the large ice slugs on Europa. And who would?

Moon pointed at a blinking red dot with celestial coordinates typed next to it. "Either the Ringers or someone else have marked this as the spot your sister's cruiser is. Her story is all over the Mind-I news feeds."

I stared hard at the blinking dot, committing the coordinates to memory. It moved slowly through the layers of black dust and debris where Earth once existed. There was nothing around the dot but stars and nothing nearby but more stars. Where had she been going? More importantly, where was she now? Was she still on her ship?

Franco stepped toward the remains of Earth and traced the broken holographic fragments like he could repair it with a God-like finger. "The Saelis won the Black War when they destroyed Earth and killed millions of our ancestors two hundred years ago, and no one's heard a peep from them since. If you're right and the Ringers are wrong, what would the Saelis want with your sister?"

"It would be so dangerous, Absidy," Moon said, "and the same thing could happen to y - "

Someone knocked at the door. All of us jumped.

"Police. Open up," a voice boomed.

I gasped and stumbled further from the door. Moon's fingers fanned over her chest and crept up to her throat like she might be holding back a scream. The glow from the holographics tinged Franco's face a pale blue before he double-tapped her temple and her Mind-I snapped the map off. Both of them turned to me.

Decision time. I looked at my hands, at the dried blood wedged into the cracks in my palms, at the pricks in my fingertips from gripping Pop's nails, and swallowed. The police thought I'd killed someone, and the fact that they were here, for me, bowed my head with a thick and heavy shame.

I could tell the police what really happened, or as much of it as they needed to know, sure, but would they believe me? Maybe, but I didn't have time for maybes. In my gut, I knew the truth - Ellison was in trouble and she needed me. She was more important than my scholarship, my undecided major, and my future, hands down, and I knew she'd do the exact same thing for me.

Snatching my suitcase from the bed, I took a step toward the window. My choice brought shining tears to Moon's eyes, and I wondered if she would have had the same reaction if I'd chosen differently.

Another loud knock plunged a weighted dread into my stomach. "Open this door."

"Just a second," Moon called in her best theater voice as she swiped at her cheeks.

Franco swept his furry parka off the back of Moon's desk chair and held it out to me. "Take it."

"I'll cover for you," Moon said in a low voice, "but you have to promise to call me so I can help you."

I nodded and took the coat, too touched to argue with either of them while I bundled myself into the warm fabric. Inch by slow squeaking inch, I slid the window open and swung a leg over the ledge onto the fire escape.

Moon stepped toward the door, not even bothering to tighten her robe around her exposed body, her watery gaze never leaving mine.

I stared at her then up at Jezebel balled up in the corner of the carpeted tree taking up most of the ceiling. She gave me a look like Where the heck do you think you're going? A biting ache speared through my heart. No words would come, not even a goodbye or a thank you. I was glad they wouldn't, though, because a single syllable might be my undoing.

As I quietly closed the window behind me, Moon's voice drifted out to say what could very well be the last thing I'd ever hear from her in person: "I am not putting any pants on."

I turned and ran.