The Daedalus—no, the ship—lifts off, soaring swiftly upward at a somewhat erratic trajectory. “Um, guys?” Virginia sounds unusually hesitant. “Hate to break up the moment, but you two are a lot more used to piloting this big boy than I am.”
Abel lets go, though not without giving Noemi’s hand a quick squeeze. Sliding back into his pilot’s chair feels exhilarating, especially when he looks down at the vectors and readouts telling him that they’re moving away from Earth at nearly top speed.
“Who is Mansfield going to send after us?” Noemi asks as she moves to another console, switching it to serve as an auxiliary ops station. “Earth planetary forces? His own mechs?”
“No one.” Abel’s fingers expand the part of the screen that shows the far distant solar system. There, just beyond Pluto—quite close at this point in its orbit—lies the Genesis Gate, Noemi’s way home. “He won’t send anyone.”
Noemi and Virginia both stare at him. Virginia’s the one who says, “Mansfield didn’t come across like a guy who gives up easily.”
Abel accelerates as they clear Earth’s atmosphere and the domed viewscreen again shows the stars. “He isn’t giving up. On the contrary, I predict with at least ninety percent certainty that Burton Mansfield is currently devising a plan to retrieve me. But no such plan can be put into action if Earth planetary defenses have blown up this ship, and me with it.”
Virginia cackles. “You’re our human shield. Well, inhuman shield. Whatever. It works.”
Noemi slumps back in her seat with half-closed eyes. Her obvious exhaustion makes Abel want to pick her up, carry her to her room, and cover her with a blanket so she can sleep as long as she wants. Soon, maybe. The final few tasks of this journey await.
At the Saturn relay station, where asteroid miners and long-haul freighters refuel, Abel brings their newly nameless ship to a standstill, the better to let a single-pilot corsair launch safely.
“Sure you won’t come to Genesis, even to see it?” Noemi stands next to Abel as they watch Virginia prep her ship. “You’d be welcome.”
“Are you kidding? The land of low-tech? I’d die within hours.” Virginia grins at them as she finishes zipping the neck of her flight suit; her red-streaked ponytail swishes as she leans down to check the controls of her corsair. It’s a larger ship than this bay would usually hold. Noemi’s tiny fighter has been nudged against the wall where it sits, still awaiting its greater errand.
They haven’t yet discussed where Abel might go, but he’s still too relieved to care about anything other than having escaped from Burton Mansfield. Too happy to be in Noemi’s presence again, and—to his surprise—sad to see Virginia go.
Virginia, on the other hand, is even bubblier than usual. “I’ve still got a couple of weeks to go in my suspension. Plenty of time to come up with stories from the wild parties I supposedly went to on Kismet.”
“Nothing as wild as the truth,” Noemi says, which makes Virginia laugh, and Abel realizes he’s smiling.
“Might even drop by and see my parents, assuming the sandstorms don’t cut off all air traffic.” Virginia sighs. “Just so you know—I’m going to check on Ephraim and Riko, too, see whether they show up on any news feeds. She creeps me out, but I’d like to make sure he’s doing all right. I think he’s the bravest of all of us.”
“No,” Abel says, looking at Noemi—who has said the same thing at the same moment, looking at him. Embarrassed and unable to determine why, he adds, “It’s good to know Ephraim will have your help. It reduces uncertainty.”
That makes Virginia point at him. “I’m going to miss this. Going to miss both of you. It’s been fun, having friends who aren’t Razers. Who knew?”
Friends, Abel thinks. I have friends. Virginia, perhaps Ephraim, maybe Harriet and Zayan, too, and certainly Noemi. He feels sure that Noemi’s feelings don’t mirror his own, but it doesn’t matter. She came for him; she forgave him. Those two gifts alone would sustain him far longer than thirty years.
“Anyway, if this guy can fly through the minefield around the Kismet Gate?” Virginia grins. “You have no excuse not to visit.”
Noemi touches Virginia’s shoulder, only for a second. “Thank you.”
Abel would like to echo her, but would feel presumptuous claiming Noemi’s mission as his own. So he only says, “Good-bye, Virginia.”
She only waves at them, then pulls on her helmet as the transparent upper shield of the corsair slides into place. Abel walks out of the docking bay, Noemi just behind him—but she’s going backward, unwilling to look away from Virginia one second before necessary.
Once they’re in the corridor, the air lock pinwheels shut to begin the launch cycle. The image of the bay comes up on a nearby screen, and they watch together in silence as the doors open and Virginia’s red corsair drifts free, then streaks away toward her next adventure.
If Abel has analyzed human conversational patterns correctly, the customary next step is an exchange of sentimental thoughts about Virginia’s help and departure. However, by now he is as aware of the imminent Masada Run as Noemi must be. “Only one more task before we can go through the Genesis Gate.”
Noemi turns to him, frowning. “What?”
Has she forgotten? “We need a mech to pilot the fighter into the Gate.”
“Like the Queen model I have waiting in sick bay?”
Although Abel can’t analyze his facial expression, Noemi apparently can, because she breaks into peals of laughter. He simply shakes his head. “You exceed expectations, Noemi Vidal.”
“So do you.”
It strikes him then that they’re alone together for the first time since their hospital room on Stronghold days ago. This fact should not be significant. Yet he dwells on it, especially on the silence that falls between them as Noemi’s smile gentles.
He realizes there’s one question he wants to ask, one he would not have put to her in front of the others, although he can think of no reason why not. “Why did you come after me?”
“I had to.” She drops her gaze from his, as if unsure of her own thoughts.
It’s not a precise answer, and yet somehow it’s more than enough.
When they slip through the Genesis Gate, Noemi whoops in joy, and Abel drums a quick rhythm on the base of his console. She looks over at him in surprise. “It’s something pilots do when a person travels the whole course of the Loop for the first time,” he explains. “Something they did, anyway. You’re the first person to complete that trip since the Liberty War ended.”
Her face is luminous as she stares at the distant green dot on the viewscreen that is planet Genesis. “Home. Mine, and now yours, I guess.”
“Mine?” Abel had not anticipated this. “Mechs are forbidden on Genesis.”