“What happened after you left the shuttle?” I ask again, worry twisting my stomach.
He doesn’t speak until we’re inside his building. “Your father showed me the compound. ”
“He did?” Relief floods my senses. If he’s being up-front about the compound, if he’s left the secrets behind . . .
Elder’s eyes flash. “Oh, yes, he told me all about it. And that the people who made all this”—Elder throws his arms up, indicating the dusty stone building—“they all died. The whole first colony. Wiped out by some alien force. ”
I swallow. For some reason, tears spring to my eyes. We’d guessed as much before, but to have Elder say it like that . . .
“And your dad . . . ” Elder says this as if the mere thought of him fills him with disgust. “He’s . . . he’s bent on revenge. His first thought—the first frexing thing he thought of—was to kill off the aliens. Just slaughter them. ”
My mind’s swimming with the possibility of aliens. Not just monsters like the pteros. Something sentient. Something that watches us and leaves behind weird footprints. Something covered in hard, crystalline scales like the one Elder found.
Something that wants to kill us merely because we’re here.
“It’s Eldest all over again!” Elder storms, his voice rising. “Eldest’s first solution to anything that caused him a problem was to kill it! Orion asking too many questions? Better have Doc kill him. You show up, looking different from my people? He wanted to throw you out the hatch!”
“Dad isn’t Eldest,” I say immediately.
“The frex he’s not! You can’t just kill your problems away, but frex if he isn’t going to try!” He whirls on me, and I feel the full force of his anger. “He’ll use my people on the frontlines so they’re the first to die. ‘Slaves or soldiers,’ just like Orion warned. ”
I flinch. “He won’t,” I say, hurtling the words in front of me like a shield.
Elder’s face is contorted with rage, and I wonder how long he’s been quietly stewing over these thoughts, unable to confront Dad but not able to tell anyone else. If he confided in his people, they’d panic and rebel, just like they did with Bartie. And Kit’s gone now. He’s been saving all this worry and fury for me, and all the while, it’s been building inside him, like an overflowing cup.
“Dad isn’t Eldest,” I repeat as forcefully as possible. “We won’t let him be. ”
This stops Elder.
“He’s military. And he’s always been stubborn. But he’s good, Elder, I promise you. ”
I can tell he doesn’t believe me. And maybe he’s right—I’m not objective, not when it comes to my own father. But I also know that my dad is better than Elder thinks he is.
“Besides,” I continue, “Dad’s not the real problem here. ”
I really have Elder’s attention now. He waits for me to continue.
I clench my fingers into fists so that Elder doesn’t see the way my hands are shaking. “I don’t know what I expected this planet to be,” I say in a quiet voice. “I thought I could face the monsters Orion warned us about, and I was fine with the pteros. But . . . ” My voice trails off. “I’m scared. The fact that this planet has Phydus . . . that’s what terrifies me. That’s worse than any monster. If there are aliens, and they have Phydus . . . ” My voice cracks. Elder saw my dad talk about killing aliens, and his instinct was to rebel against the very idea. But the aliens have Phydus, and I’m afraid there’s no way we can rebel against that.
“We should have stayed on Godspeed,” I say, looking down at the ground. It costs me everything to admit that I was wrong, that it was worth being trapped behind the walls in exchange for our safety.
“No. ” The word bursts from Elder in a ragged whisper of protest. “Whatever happens—it was worth it to leave the ship. ”
I don’t answer.
Elder shifts so he’s directly in front of me. When my eyes don’t focus on him, he touches my face until I really see him. And that is why I know—I know—he is telling me the truth when he repeats, “It was worth it. ”
I shut my eyes, and my body melts with relief. I slowly become aware of how close we’re standing to each other, the heat radiating off Elder’s skin and warming me. When I open my eyes, I can see the same feral nature in my gaze reflected in his.
His hand is shaking when he trails it down the side of my face, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear. His fingers don’t stop, outlining the side of my jaw, pulling my chin up to his.
I close my eyes.
Our lips meet. He tastes like things that have no taste: warmth and life and truth and goodness and love.
And all my other senses fade away.
There is nothing but our kiss, and in it, the knowledge that Elder wants—needs—me just as much as I need him.