Page 45 of Exiles on Earth

Mouth in a grim line, Ilia adds, “And broken clones must be euthanized.” He gets to his knees beside his crewmate. “I’ll do it. I don’t want any of you to carry this burden. I… I’m sorry, Arture. I failed you.”

As his big hands reach for Arture’s throat, he murmurs to me, “It’s best if you go inside, El-len.”

I grab his hands. “Wait, is there really no way to save him?You said he needed to know where he was, what does he need for that?”

“Co-ordinates, star charts, even observing the local stars would be a start,” Gara reels off.

I grab my phone, swiping away six missed calls from fucking Terry. He pales into insignificance compared to this. What do I search for? I type in ‘stars northern hemisphere,’ holding the phone to Ilia with trembling hands. “What about this?”

He gives the screen a quick glance and thrusts the phone in Arture’s face. “Arture, star charts! You can see them, and we can base our calculations on these, Arture.”

The screams stop, Arture’s wide bloodshot eyes fixing on my phone. Slowly the purple aliens help him up and Arture snatches the device, staring into the glowing face.

“Yes,” he breathes, and my chest loosens in response to his relief. “There’s the Nubrala nebula, labelled the Milky Way here. Olorian records scanned this place before our time, saw the sentient life and labeled it off-limits. The Druma quadrant… is likely here, I recognize these star structures.”

I help Arture navigate the phone but he gets it immediately, drinking in the knowledge like it’s pure water and he’s parched.

“What’s this called?” he asks me, pointing at a label on a flurry of stars. They all look the same to me, but he’s intent, stiff backed awaiting my answer.

“It says Andromeda Galaxy, 2.5 billion light years away.” A number so big it’s meaningless to me, but clearly Arture needs it.

“An-dro-me-da,” he says slowly. “That’s what you call the Druma quadrant. And 2.5 billion light years… I’d need to calibrate with what those are, but it seems like my calculations were 6.58 percent off.” His nose wrinkles with disgust. “I’ll have to get better with my assumptions.”

I sit back on my heels. Now the crisis is over, the trauma these guys are living with is fully laid bare. How they can’t even ask for something to save their lives.

“Thank you.” Ilia’s eyes swim with tears.

“Ask me, next time. Any of you can ask me for stuff. I can’t promise to give it to you, but at least ask, okay?” I dig my nails into my palms. “You can treat that as an order if you like.”

Ilia’s face hardens. “I will, El-len. When it comes to my crew, I will ask you for what they need.”

“Right.” I scan my eyes over the rest of the aliens. They don’t look like they’re in danger of keeling over, but neither did the pilot until today.

Gara suddenly focuses on Ilia, nostrils flaring, and with a scowl he grabs Ilia’s left arm. “I smell blood. You used too much Gerverstock strength, didn’t you?”

“It was necessary to save El-len’s life,” Ilia explains, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Also, we have an internal combustion engine machine to fix.”

“That’s a problem for another day,” I say firmly. “You need to get patched up.”

Ilia waves Gara away. “My nanites will fix it.”

Gara presses, “There’s risk of infection, not to mention weaker scales if I don’t meld any deep tears together now.”

The big leader hesitates. “Arture needs your attention more.”

“He seems occupied,” I point out. “What would you say if this was one of your crew?”

Ilia’s lips twist. “I would… order them to submit to Gara’s superior knowledge.”

“That’s right,” Gara nods with approval.

“But—”

“No buts,” I say. “You can’t carry everything for everyone else if you’re lying in pieces on the floor. You need to look after yourself, too.”

His scales flash turquoise, the light shining in his widening blue eyes. “I… hadn’t thought of it like that. Very well. Gara, make it as quick as you can.”

“Always.” Gara gets to work, checking him all over. Hesprays some kind of substance on Ilia’s arms, tutting. Ilia endures it, but I recognize restlessness in the way his feet tap.