Page 29

29

Rose stepped back from the containment unit, each pulse of light sending waves of vertigo through her. But beneath the dizziness and exhaustion lurked something worse.

Guilt.

Would Thea have ventured into such dangerous territory if they’d stayed close? Maybe she should have tried harder, instead of letting Thea forge her own destructive path. When they’d been younger, they’d both made rash decisions—but those had been fixable. Repairable.

This was something else entirely.

She checked her wristwatch. Past midnight. Her shoulders sagged as fatigue hit her in a crushing wave.

She rubbed at her eyes, feeling the grit of a too long day beneath her lids. Had they really only been down here for one day?

Her thoughts were muddy at the edges, refusing to align with any semblance of order—her scientific analysis muddled by the fog of Remy’s revelations.

“I can’t even think about what to say about all of this,” she said, gesturing at the column of light, then up toward the ceiling where Remy’s disembodied voice seemed to emanate from everywhere and nowhere. The AI sounded friendly enough, and bizarrely, both Ethan and Finn knew her, but right now Rose couldn’t trust anything—not even her own judgment.

Ethan’s brow furrowed, his mind clearly racing. “Is this anything to do with the state we found the crew in?” he asked, voicing the concern that was on all their minds.

“It’s too early to tell. Without information from the crew, I need to go through the archives. I don’t want to make inaccurate guesses.”

“We need to gather more information. Rose, can you analyze the research data? We need to understand everything about these nanobots. Their capabilities, limitations, and potential safeguards—if they were involved in any way in what happened to the Io’s crew.”

“Sure.” Rose acknowledged him with a dip of her head. “There are significant firewalls and safeties. I can access them, but it will take a little time.”A sigh escaped her. “I can’t think straight. I have to get some rest. Just a few hours—there’s a lot of work to be done.” The words tumbled out in a rush. She didn’t want them thinking she was abandoning her responsibilities, but her brain was turning to mush.

“It’s going to take time to get the shuttle up and running, anyway.” Ethan checked his watch. “We can afford a few hours rest. This is not a mission where we can afford to make mistakes.”

“I’ll be in my sister’s quarters. I might even find out a few things there.”

Ethan nodded his approval, his attention swiveling to Finn. “Finn, contact Cade and Nik topside. I want them to lean hard on the OSC. We need intel on what those bastards know or suspect about this tech. ASAP.”

“Copy that.”

“We need to bring Luca and Liev up to speed?—”

“Liev Stiles?” Remy’s artificial voice softened with unmistakable recognition. “Has he been looking after my Eva?”

A wry grin tracked across Ethan’s face. “He has, Remy. But you can speak to him yourself once we work out how they’re keeping you secured down here.” His expression shifted to the focused intensity Rose now recognized. “Meantime, Finn, I’ll speak with Duke so he can bring us up to speed on the other survivors.”

Finn’s gaze settled on Rose, cataloging her exhaustion. “I’ll walk you to Thea’s room first.”

She shook her head, recognizing his protective instincts but needing space. “That’s kind, but I just need to be on my own for a bit. Get my head straight.”

He crossed to her in two quick strides, his warm hand settling on her arm. “You sure?” His voice dropped lower, meant only for her. “A lot’s happened. None of us should be alone down here.”

The concern in his eyes made her throat tight. For a moment, she almost changed her mind. But her brain was too full of nanobots, altered bacteria and her sister’s betrayal. “I’m sure. I need some time to process all of this.”

“Okay.” His thumb brushed her arm once before he stepped back, voice shifting to that careful, professional tone.

She climbed the recessed ladder sunk into the wall, her boots loud on the metal rungs. The thought hammered with each step—they could have missed what lurked down here, been blind to the true nature of the research they were retrieving. Now she wasn’t even sure it should see daylight. Some things belonged in Earth’s darkest spaces.

The corridor’s emptiness was both relief and an ache. Away from Finn’s warmth, she could finally breathe, could try to arrange the chaos in her mind. She hurried toward Thea’s room, clinging to the promise of a hot shower and dreamless sleep to reset her world.

The wheeze of the air recyclers followed her into Thea’s quarters. Her sister’s room was military-precise. A narrow cot tucked into the far corner, its gray blanket pulled drum-tight across the thin mattress. A small cushioned chair sat angled toward the desk where Thea’s laptop was closed, but indicator lights blinked.

Chanel No. 5 hung in the air, just as it had through their teenage years. The scent yanked her back to their shared bathroom mirror, Thea leaning in close to apply mascara while Rose rifled through her closet. The bass from their speakers had vibrated the walls while they’d argued over hemlines and borrowed shoes, getting ready for those first forbidden nights out at university bars.

A lifetime ago.

Her gaze drifted to the built-in shelves above the desk. Two rows of textbooks stood in rigid formation, their spines a march of computational theory and advanced mathematics.

Tingles skittered the length of her spine. Wedged between Quantum Computing and Advanced Algorithmic Design , sat their father’s old copy of The Stargazer’s Guide .

Rose’s fingers trembled as she eased it from its spot. The cover was worn smooth at the corners, just as she remembered. She opened it, the spine crackling. Her father’s precise handwriting looped across the inside cover. William Lancaster Wyndham. She closed her eyes and held the book against her nose, breathing deep the faded scent of the cedar shelves from their childhood home. God, she missed him.

Paper rustled. Something had fallen from between the pages. Her throat constricted as she bent to retrieve it. A photograph, its corners soft, and white lines creasing the image where it had been folded and refolded. Two sisters grinned at the camera, their hair plastered to their faces by spray. Their parents’ kayaks rested on the rocky shore behind them, the last summer before the crash that had shattered their family.

Rose pressed her fingertips against the glossy surface. She had sent this to Thea shortly after Thea published their data as her own.

She’d intended it as a peace offering.

When no response came, she’d imagined this cherished memory tossed in the trash along with their relationship. But here it was, carefully preserved between the pages of their father’s book.

The constant thrum of the habitat’s systems seemed to grow louder in the claustrophobic room. Rose sank into the chair, the photograph still in her hands, while water and indifferent rock pressed down on the metal shell around her.

Thea had kept the photo. Had looked at it enough times to wear those creases into the paper. Something warm bloomed in Rose’s chest. Whatever had happened between them, whatever dark work lurked in the labs below, Thea hadn’t thrown away this piece of their shared past.

She made her way to the narrow bed and lay down, still clutching their father’s book to her chest, the photograph safely tucked inside. A small smile touched her lips. Thea wasn’t lost to her. Not completely. Not while she kept this memory close, hidden in the pages of their father’s book. In this simple act of preservation lay the possibility of redemption, of finding their way back to each other.

It was a tenuous thread of hope. But maybe there was a way through this.

Thea had kept the photograph, and in that single choice lay all the proof she needed her sister was still in there—somewhere beneath the secrets and lies—waiting to be found.