The Vanished Specialist (The Lost Planet 2) - Page 22

The only reason I even considered risking this trip—the reason I haven’t quite mustered the nerve to tell Calix, is the longer I’m on this planet, the less energy I seem to have. Even in the sterile environment of the facility, I struggled to breathe. There has to be a cure. There has to. I cling to that thought rather than wondering what it will be like to be alone with Calix in our little tent with nothing but time.

My mind drifts to the past.

After my mother died. Everything was so hard back then. It changed me. The things I had to do to preserve my life were what ended me up on that vessel in the first place. These guys saved me, unbeknownst to them. And no matter how awful this planet is, I have no intentions of ever leaving it.

Sooner or later, I’ll have to tell him the truth. I just hope he can forgive me when I do.

Hours later, Calix slows the dust-mobile to a stop and I shake off the remnants of sleep. It doesn’t seem like it’d be exhausting, but the long day of travel has my thighs quaking as he helps me off the seat.

“What can I do to help?” I ask.

He gestures to the dust-mobile. “Retrieve our rations for the night from the side compartment. I will set up the vacuuroom.”

I nod wearily, wishing I had his endurance, but I’ve never been able to do much for very long, not even when I had medications back home. Packed away in neat little sections are a variety of what looks like freeze-dried food in metal boxes. I select two of them, not caring what they contain, just knowing I’m starving.

“Is the food out here really not edible?” I ask as I join him by the already erected tent of sorts. Galen mentioned it, but only briefly. The land may be desert and mountains, but there are trees interspersed throughout the dunes and throughout the journey I caught the shadow of animals moving from time to time.

“Once it has been tested and cleared, we can eat a lot of the meat,” he explains. “We try to grow our own plants in a safer environment, well away from the radiation.”

Calix helps me to the vacuuroom with one hand bracing my elbow. The structure stands maybe five by seven feet and I come to a startled halt at its entrance, my eyes bulging.

Turning to him, I say, “How in the world did that fit on the dust-mobile?”

“Dust-mobile?” he repeats. When I gesture to the vehicle, he nods in understanding. “It is collapsible technology Oz developed with Jareth. It is really quite remarkable.”

“I’ll say.”

Calix uses his armband at the door much like they did at the facility. With a beep and a whirring sound, the door springs open into a small decontamination room where we remove our outer suits and helmets, leaving us in the skintight minnasuits underneath.

He presses a command on a keypad in the wall and the second door opens. Oz and Jareth must be friggin’ geniuses because if I didn’t know any better, it would feel as though we were in one of the rooms at the facility.

“This is incredible,” I whisper.

“I hope it eases your worries about traveling.”

I give Calix a wry smile. “I guess I wasn’t too good at hiding it.”

Calix lifts a hand to caress my cheek. “I do not want you to hide anything from me, lilapetal.”

Hopefully he can’t see my nervous gulp. I smile hesitantly. “So, what’s for dinner?” I ask instead of bringing up the one thing I know will take away the loving look he sends me.

My secret.

Something I’m terrified for him to find out.

8

Calix

Her mood has changed and I can sense it. I can see it. I can practically taste it. But then she shifts her blue eyes away from mine, hiding her thoughts from me. All it does is make me want to pull them straight from her, destroy the bad ones and coddle the good ones.

“Ahh, good choice,” I praise as I begin prepping the meal packets. I am distracted from my task as I watch her settle on a cushion, tucking her thin legs beneath her. Her skin is pale and I am not pleased with the dark smudges under her eyes. She seems weakened from our travels. Quickly, I prepare our food and hand her the one that is most palatable.

“Thank you,” she rasps, her smile thin and forced.

My brows furrow as I regard her. I barely register inhaling my food as my attention is solely focused on her as she nibbles at her meal. “When you finish eating, I would like to check your vitals.”

Her panicked eyes fly to mine. “I’m fine. We should rest.”

“Your vitals will determine how long we rest, Emery.”

Tags: K. Webster The Lost Planet Fantasy
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