“Is this true?” Amy’s mother asks. “Are you protecting these creatures?” she asks, disgusted.
Colonel Martin shakes his head in protest. “I am not protecting them!” he roars. “There is no them! I don’t know any more about what kind of aliens are on this planet than you do!” And then he seems to register what I’ve just said about the compound. “You know about the communication room?” he asks. “You’ve been there?”
I don’t bother denying it.
“Then you know we haven’t been able to contact Earth. ”
Amy’s mother gasps. “But you said—”
“We thought we had,” Colonel Martin says. “But the message I heard was pre-recorded. ”
“And you haven’t been able to reach Sol-Earth since then. ” It’s more a statement than a question.
Colonel Martin nods.
“What did Emma know?” Amy asks. “Why was she scared?”
Colonel Martin opens his hands wide. “I don’t know,” he says. He sounds defeated. “I don’t know why she’s dead now either. Maybe she figured out something that I didn’t. But she didn’t tell me, and she can’t tell any of us now. ”
39: AMY
When Dad leaves, Elder follows him. I know Elder won’t let go of the questions he really wants to ask, and I viciously revel in that knowledge. It’s time we had some answers.
Mom, on the other hand, doesn’t look happy at all about what she’s learned. Or maybe she’s sad to be doing another autopsy, to be prying apart another friend.
She covers Emma’s body with a sheet.
“I can’t do this,” she says. “Not now. Every time I look at her, I think about you. ”
“Me?” I ask, surprised.
She nods. “When Elder brought you to us, after you passed out from those purple flowers. ” Her eyes are sparkling now, and I’m afraid she’s about to cry. “I thought we’d lost you then. And now . . . we’ve had a death a day since we landed. ” She swallows. “We knew this world would be dangerous,” she says. “But we had no idea it would actively try to kill us. ”
She steps away from the autopsy table and toward me, wrapping me in a hug, clutching me with something I can only describe as desperation.
“I’m starting to wish we’d never come,” she says.
Her words throw me off so much that I can barely think of what to say. “But you never wanted anything more than to go on this mission!” I exclaim. “You were working on this project before I was even born!”
Mom’s grin twitches up despite herself. “I know. But that’s the point: it was before you were born. Once you were born . . . how could I ask you to give up Earth? It was my dream, but never yours. ”
Now I really don’t know what to say. I wonder if Mom knows that Dad gave me a choice to hold on to Earth, to give them up instead.
Mom leans over and wraps one arm around my shoulders. “I’m glad you’re here,” she says quietly, and
I can feel my eyes burning and my face growing hot, so I just smile and nod and bury my face into her shoulder.
And then I know what I need to say. I pull away from her and look right in her eyes. “I’m glad I’m here too,” I tell her. And I mean it. Despite the fear, despite the deaths—I’m glad I’m here. My eyes slide to the white sheet covering Emma’s body. I think about what she said—the last thing she said to me. And I know it was the truth.
When Mom and I finally break apart, she seems stronger. More determined. And because she is, I can be too.
She turns back to the autopsy she doesn’t want to perform. And I turn back to test the sample of Emma’s blood against Phydus. I am not surprised when it comes back positive.
40: ELDER
Colonel Martin doesn’t want to talk. He makes that much clear straightaway—but I don’t care. I stay at his heels as we leave the shuttle.
Finally he turns to face me. “You want to know what I know? Then follow me. ” And whatever it is that I expected him to do, this is not it.