“No! I’ll get the technology somehow, even if I have to steal it.”
“Damn right, you will. And then I’ll take it home with my brother.”
Syrine shoved him aside and held one finger in Cara’s face. “You won’t take a single grain of sand off L’eihr. I already told the Elders what Aelyx was planning.”
“Then I’m glad the experiment failed,” Cara spat, “because you’re monsters. All of you!”
Before his brain could register what was happening, Syrine slapped Cara across the face, hard enough to send her stumbling into his arms. He held her protectively, but she recoiled and pushed free.
Syrine gasped, staring at her palm in disbelief as she backed up a pace, while Cara advanced, blood surging into her cheeks, fingers flexing, muscles coiled and ready to strike back. She stilled her hand and stopped within an inch of Syrine’s nose.
“And you called my people barbarians,” Cara said. “You’re no better. At least humans can love.”
“Don’t talk to me about love,” Syrine whispered, her back against the wall. “I loved Eron all my life—even when he chose someone else. I never stopped.”
“I didn’t know Eron very well,” Cara said, “but I bet he wouldn’t want a whole planet to die for him.” She whipped her head around and locked eyes with Aelyx, her gaze cold and empty. “I’m going home. I never should’ve left.”
“Wait.” Lurching forward, he grabbed her shoulders. “I can make you understand. Just let me show you how I felt . . . how much I struggled with the choice.”
“No!” She closed her eyes.
“Just this once, and I’ll never ask you again.”
Cara pushed him away, screaming, “I don’t want your poison inside my head!” She turned on her heel and fled down the hall, her ponytail swinging to and fro.
Her words sent him stumbling back like a blow to the chest. Aelyx’s eyes welled until she blurred into a collage of red and beige, then she turned the corner and disappeared.
He had to fix this. But how? Stepha had promised a dozen lashes for bringing Cara aboard the ship, and the Elders would watch him too closely for him to steal the technology and escape.
Whatever it takes, he decided. It didn’t matter what he had to do—the end would justify the means. He’d find a way to save Earth or die trying.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Cara swore she’d never travel at light speed again. Never ever ever. Not even if astronauts discovered a chocolate and peanut butter planet and claimed it for the US of A.
Oh, God, she shouldn’t have thought about food! Ripples of nausea turned her stomach as her mouth flooded with saliva. Clutching the steely rim of her toilet with one hand, she rose onto her knees, tugged her hair aside, and hurled for the third time that morning.
She moaned to herself. Outer space sucked. Why hadn’t the L’eihrs warned her this would happen? Oh, yeah, because everyone aboard the SS Buzzkill hated her with the fire of a thousand supernovas. Except for Aelyx, who’d holed up inside his own room, which explained why their paths hadn’t crossed.
With a groan, she curled up against her bathroom wall, too weak to even wipe her mouth. She’d never felt so miserable, not even when she’d caught the swine flu in kindergarten and wound up in the hospital with secondary pneumonia. Of course, she hadn’t lost the love of her life at age six.
Childish as it felt, she wanted her mother. Mom would know all the right things to say to make her feel better, but Cara’s parents were galaxies away, and she didn’t even know if they were safe. If she weren’t so dehydrated, she’d break down and cry again, but she knew the tears wouldn’t come, and crying without tears felt too much like dry heaving.
A light knock sounded from the door to her quarters in the next room, but she didn’t budge. Whoever it was could come back later, maybe collect her dead body and ship it back to Earth. A loud hiss told Cara someone had opened the door, and she prayed to God it wasn’t Aelyx. The last thing she wanted was for him to find her on the bathroom floor with dried puke in her hair. But when the medic poked her head through the doorway, disappointment tugged at Cara’s heartstrings. Part of her had hoped it was Aelyx. She missed him so much it hurt.
“Sacred Mother,” the girl said, twisting Cara’s heart with another reminder of him. “You look awful.”
“Can’t. Stop. Yakking.”
She gave a sympathetic smile and nodded. “Speed sickness. Why didn’t you come to the clinic?”
“Because I couldn’t take the toilet with me.” It sounded better than I’m a wussy coward who was scared of running into Aelyx in the hall. She’d had all her meals brought to the room for the same reason, not that she’d been able to keep most of them down.
“Well.” The girl blinked her mile-long lashes and set her bag on the floor. “I’m glad someone asked me to check on you.”
There was only one person on this godforsaken spacecraft who cared if she lived or died, and as much as she hated it, she still cared for him, too. “Is he sick like me?”
“Sicker than I’ve ever seen him.” The medic crouched down and rooted around inside her bag until she found a hypodermic needle and a glass vial filled with clear liquid. “But not like you.” She tapped one finger against her temple. “He suffers here.” After scanning Cara’s face a moment, the girl pressed two fingers over her heart. “And here.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Despite all his lies, she hated the idea of Aelyx hurting. It’d been so tempting to let him use Silent Speech to explain away what he’d done. There was no point denying that she ached to be with him. But she couldn’t trust Aelyx, and without that, they had nothing worth saving.
“Do you understand why you’re so sick?” The girl filled her needle with clear solution and motioned for Cara’s arm. As she injected the medicine, she explained, “It’s all in your mind.”
Sucking in a sharp breath, Cara clenched her teeth as the icy liquid swept through her veins.
“Your brain doesn’t believe your body is capable of light speed,” the girl continued as she massaged Cara’s arm, pushing the medication toward her heart. “How can your mind understand something you’ve never experienced? So it assumes you’re hallucinating—that you’ve poisoned yourself—and it induces vomiting to rid your body of the perceived toxins.” She pulled what looked like a metal thermos from her bag, unscrewed it, and handed it over. “L’eihrs are no different, Cah-ra. Our brains are resistant to change. How can we understand what we’ve never experienced and adapt without making mistakes?”
Cara’s hand froze in midair as she reached for the cup. She had a feeling they weren’t talking about motion sickness anymore. So, if she understood the subtext correctly, the medic was suggesting she cut Aelyx some slack for wrecking the alliance because he’d never been in love before? That was the lamest excuse she’d ever heard.
“Well,” she said, regaining use of her arm, “if L’eihrs are so evolved, they should be able to figure it out.”
“We can.” She nodded for Cara to drink. “But it takes time. And patience.”
Cara studied the girl over the top of her cup as she finished the sweet liquid—electrolyte supplements, no doubt—in three eager gulps. Why did this L’eihr give a fig about her relationship with Aelyx? Out of the hundreds of crew members aboard this transport, why was she the only one to offer comfort and gentle smiles? “What’s your name?” she asked the medic.