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"I don't know. Sleep talk."

"Hm. Ah, I think I remember something." I try to imitate his voice. "Oh, Airos! I'msohappy you rescued me!"

His face scrunches into a scowl as he skulks away. "Go the fuck to sleep."

I laugh and lay down, and as I allow myself to finally relax, the heavy weight of sleep quickly drifts over me. Then, just before it takes me, I hear him say, "Thanks. Thanks for coming after me."

The sun beats down on us like a molten hammer as we slowly move over the waves of sand. Jackson walks in front of me, head bowed and covered by the hood of his cloak, his steps a steady and even march.

"This brings me back," he says. "Al-Tanf, in Syria."

"I don’t know of this region."

"Of course not. I mean, shit, even if you were from Earth, you wouldn't know it unless you were deployed there."

"Deployed," I repeat, mulling over his usage of the word. "Ah, the campaign you took part in as a soldier."

"Yep. That's where I did my tour. After that, I went freelance. Volunteer mercenary."

"You fought without pay? I’d never offer my skills without a price."

"Some things are more valuable than money, I guess."

"I agree," I say, shaking the empty wine gourd hanging from my hip. "I'll always consider a refill as payment."

"So, that's all you're after? Money or drink?"

"Not at all. I want knowledge. Knowledge of all the details of this world. The money keeps me going. And the wine makes suffering through the lunacy of it all, bearable."

"I knew plenty who thought the same thing. That shit just numbs you. Makes you make mistakes."

Suddenly, an untethered memory flashes into my mind in scattered fragments. My surroundings change. I'm in a dark forest. And there's someone else with me, a man. He's so close I can smell him; his skin is anointed with a pungent smoky aroma and the musk of his sweat. I feel a smoldering flame of excitement and need, and then a deep, cold shame.

And then I'm back in the desert. I see two Jacksons in front of me, swirling around until they slowly become one. I jab my staff into the sand and keep myself from stumbling over.

Jackson stops walking and looks back. "You good?"

I point up at the sun.

He nods. "Are yousurewe're headed the right way? Because it sure as hell looks like there's nothing but sand ahead."

"I saw a well while we were up in the sky. It's not far."

Jackson gives me a skeptical look. "How do I know you're not delusional?"

"Keep going. You'll see."

My eyes had not deceived me. As we come up to the top of a low dune, we see a solitary stone trough sitting in the middle of a rocky field just a short distance away, like an island in the middle of the ocean.

"Well, goddamn," Jackson says. "That's not a mirage."

"No, it isn't."

He turns to me with a wide grin, punches me on the shoulder and sprints giddily down the side of the dune. I smile too, taken by Jackson's sudden unreserved excitement. It's the same smile he'd given me when I'd appeared to rescue him off the flyer—bright as the day and as rare as...well, water in the desert. It's clear he's not an omega who shows his delight very often, and I can't help but feel happy to be treated to it twice.

"Don't",I tell myself. "Especially not him."

But as I watch him kicking sand everywhere as he bounds down the dune, it's difficult not to be taken by his giddiness. I bolt after him and quickly overtake him.