Page 29 of Pets in Space 10

Cass stared down the tunnel where the creature had disappeared, her heart hammering against her ribs. The impossibility of what she had seen — actual life on Mars — would have been thrilling under different circumstances. Now it only filled her with dread.

Zach didn’t lower his weapon for several long seconds, scanning the shadows for any sign of movement. When he was satisfied the creature was gone, he holstered his gun and turned towards her.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, eyes scanning her for injuries.

She shook her head, then gasped when she realized that his shirt was ripped open across his ribs, revealing long, blood-stained gashes. “But you are.”

“It’s nothing,” he said, glancing down at the damage. “My nanites are already working on healing the wounds.”

“Let me see,” she demanded. The creature’s claws had cut deep, exposing a glimpse of metal beneath the torn flesh. Something inside her chest twisted painfully at the sight.

Tears sprang to her eyes, surprising her with their sudden appearance. “I’m so sorry, Zach. This is all my fault. I should have listened to you.”

He looked at her, something unreadable flickering across his face. “Cass — ”

“No, I mean it. My curiosity, my stupid need to know everything — I put us both in danger. I put you in danger.”

A tear spilled over, tracking down her cheek. She brushed it away angrily, but more followed. The adrenaline crash hit her all at once, leaving her shaky and vulnerable.

His expression softened in a way she’d never seen before. His hand, warm despite its mechanical nature, reached up to cup her face. His thumb brushed away a tear, the gentleness of the gesture at odds with the strength she knew he possessed.

“Cass,” he said again, his voice lower, rougher.

Then he was kissing her, his lips finding hers with unexpected urgency.

The kiss was desperate, passionate — nothing like she would have expected from him.

His arms encircled her, pulling her against his chest, heedless of his injuries.

She responded without thinking, her body melting into his, hands clutching at his shoulders.

The kiss seemed to stretch into infinity, suspending them in a moment outside of time and danger. When they finally broke apart, they were both breathing hard, staring at each other with matching expressions of surprise.

“I-” she began, then stopped, unsure what to say.

His eyes, those steel-gray eyes that could seem so distant, now burned with a silver intensity that stole her breath. His arms remained around her, as if he couldn’t bear to let her go.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered again, unable to look away from him. “For putting you in danger. For all of this.”

He shook his head slightly. “It’s my job to face danger.”

“Not like this. Not because of my recklessness.”

“Your curiosity,” he corrected. “Your brilliance. Your refusal to accept the expected answer.” His voice grew softer. “It’s what makes you who you are.”

The words warmed her from the inside out, melting something that had been frozen for too long. No one had ever understood her drive that way — not her parents, not her colleagues. They saw only the results, never the passion that fueled her work.

Roland chirped from nearby, breaking the moment. The small cybernetic armadillo was scanning the tunnel with its sensors, alert for any sign of the creature’s return.

Zach glanced towards the darkness, then back at her. His expression shifted, becoming more focused, though his arms remained around her.

“What are we going to do now?” he asked, his voice steady despite everything that had just happened between them.

The question brought her crashing back to reality.

They were still in the tunnel. The creature was still out there.

And they had just made a discovery that would change humanity’s understanding of Mars forever.

The implications of what they’d discovered suddenly hit her with full force.

Life on Mars. Actual, complex, life. Not just microbes or simple organisms, but an intelligent, possibly predatory species.

The scientific community would explode with the news.

Mars colonization efforts would have to be reconsidered. Everything would change.

And she and Zach were the only ones who knew.

She took a deep breath, trying to order her thoughts. “We need to document everything. The creature, the tunnel system, any evidence of a larger ecosystem.” She paused, watching his expression. “But we also need to be safe. That thing was dangerous.”

“Extremely,” he agreed. “And there may be more of them.”

“We should collect samples before we go,” she said, scientific instinct reasserting itself. “Soil, air, anything the creature might have left behind.”

“It has to be done quickly. That thing could come back any moment.”

She nodded, already reaching for her sample kit. Her hands were steadier now, purpose replacing fear. He lifted her down and she worked quickly but methodically, collecting material from where the creature had stood, where its blood had spilled, and from the walls of the tunnel.

Roland helped, using his specialized limbs to reach areas she couldn’t access. The little armadillo seemed unnervingly calm about the whole situation, his programming allowing him to process the encounter more efficiently than his human companion.

As she worked, she kept glancing over at Zach. He stood guard, weapon ready, eyes constantly scanning the darkness. The tears in his shirt still revealed glimpses of the metal beneath his skin, a reminder of what he was — and what he wasn’t.

The kiss lingered between them, unacknowledged but impossible to forget. What had it meant to him? Was it just the heat of the moment, adrenaline and relief at surviving? Or something more?

And what did it mean to her?

She pushed the questions aside. Later. She would think about all of that later, when they weren’t in a tunnel with a predator potentially lurking nearby.

“I’ve got everything I need,” she said finally, securing the last sample container.

He nodded, relief evident in the slight relaxation of his shoulders as he looked up the tunnel. “Good. We should return to the station at once.”

“Zach,” she called softly, stopping him. When he turned back, she met his eyes directly. “Thank you. For saving my life.”

Something flickered in his expression that she couldn’t read.

“Always,” he said simply, then turned to scan the area, weapon ready, before he signaled for her to follow.

She took a step after him, then came to an abrupt halt as the realization hit her.

“Wait. We can’t leave yet.”