Chapter 23: Karina & Silo

SILO

Silo’s boots thudded heavily against the floor as he paced the passageway outside Captain Ream’s office. He glanced at the time with a grimace.

He smoothed his hand over his bald head. His fingers felt numb. He felt sick.

He felt like a failure. The hollowness in his stomach was intensifying with each passing moment.

He could still change his mind, he reminded himself. He didn’t have to do anything. He could keep her and trick her into their bond.

She would be better for it. ~He~ would be better. He doubted the others would judge him too harshly.

After all, it wasn’t as though he hadn’t tried—tried and tried—but she just wasn’t receptive.

He smoothed his hand over his scalp again, then stopped and raised his eyes to the ceiling. His throat thickened as he thought back to her tears.

Shaking his head, he resumed his pacing. “It’s not going to work. You have to do this.”

But it hurt. He was going to miss her. He was going to miss her so damn much.

Again, he raised his eyes to the ceiling, only to jerk them back down when the door finally opened. Fixing his expression and straightening his shirt, Silo entered.

Captain Ream was standing by the window, gazing out into space. Rictor 5 dominated the view. A pretty-looking blue planet brimming with life in an otherwise dead solar system.

So unique and unlikely. Just like Karina herself.

“What’s so urgent that you should ask for a private meeting at such a crucial time?” Captain Ream asked. He turned, eyeing him over with curiosity—and impatience.

Silo released a breath. “Captain, I request permission to return my Rictorian to Rictor 5.”

Captain Ream raised his eyebrows. “Why?”

“It’s—it’s not working. She’s—she’s too hostile, too wild.”

Captain Ream frowned. “It took a lot of risk and resources to acquire her.”

“I know. And I’m sorry. It was a mistake.”

“A mistake. Ha! Of course it was a mistake. The whole operation was a mistake from the very start,” he said, shaking his head in disgust. “You’ve all been hired to complete a job, not…not live your lives.”

Silo waited.

“I don’t see the issue. Why not just force the bond?”

“I cannot do that, sir.”

“Why not?”

Silo met his glinting eyes. “Because it’s not what she wants. And I—and I care for her too much.”

Captain Ream stared at him. Then he threw his hand into the air in dismissal. “What does it matter? Go do what you want. Everyone else is.”

Shaking his head, he turned back to the window.

KARINA

Silo returned to the room. Karina ignored him, staring down at the table, her chin on her fist.

She scratched at her neck, then scratched her arm, her leg. She shook her shoulders. It felt like bugs were crawling under her skin. She couldn’t relax. Especially when ~he~ was around.

“I have good news,” he said in his deep voice.

“Yeah? What?”

“You’re going home.”

Karina jerked her eyes up. “Stop lying to me.”

“I’m not lying. I’ve organized our own private shuttle,” he said.

Karina leaned back into her seat, her hands fisted on the table. “I thought you couldn’t go back. Or was ~that~ a lie?”

“It was no lie—but I’m not going to bother explaining myself to you. You’re going back. Just as you wanted.” He looked into her eyes. “I trust you won’t tell anyone on Rictor 5 what’s happened.”

She snorted. “And make myself seem even more crazy?”

“It is unusual. I’m surprised Captain Ream has allowed it.”

“Who’s Captain Ream?”

Silo shook his head. “It doesn’t matter.”

Karina’s heart was beating in her throat. “So—so you’re telling the truth?”

He nodded. “We’ll leave shortly, once we reach your planet’s orbit.”

Karina stared at him, her lips slightly parted. The alien looked away, turned, and disappeared into the bathroom.

Karina gazed at the door. ~Home~. She was going home!

It was hardly any time at all before they were situated in the “shuttle” and making their way across space. Or, at least, that’s what she ~assumed~ was happening. She couldn’t see anything, sitting in a tiny room with no windows.

Gripping her knees, she lowered her head between them. Why was she so anxious? She was going home! Yet, the pressure in her chest seemed to intensify moment by moment until it hurt to breathe.

Silo hadn’t spoken with her since they’d stepped off the “mothership,” as he called it. In fact, she hadn’t seen him at all. Strangely, she felt unsafe. She’d been getting used to having him around, as infuriating as he was.

Karina listened out, but she heard no sign as to whether they’d entered the Earth’s atmosphere. It was so quiet. There was no turbulence. No sound. Not even the hum of a motor or the creaking of metal. Was Silo flying the ship?

Finally, there came a bump—one which sent her lurching over her lap. Shortly after, Silo entered. “We’re here,” he said, gazing over her head, deliberately avoiding eye contact.

Karina stood. Her hands were trembling, and she folded them behind her back. She followed him out of the door and down a corridor little different from that of the mothership, except that it had fewer blinking lights and eventually came to an end.

Karina paused as she looked down the ramp and to the dark night waiting beyond. She looked at Silo, who stood waiting beside her—quiet, his yellow eyes averted. She walked down the ramp, her feet thudding lightly against the metal.

She lifted her face toward the sky. To feel real air again! Real weather! It was like she’d forgotten about it. Then she met grass—actual grass! It felt curious and strange beneath her shoes, as though she hadn’t felt it for years.

Karina gripped onto herself as she gazed through the trees. She glanced over her shoulder as Silo followed. Her breath was a mist. His eyes were glinting.

He pointed ahead. “Just beyond is your home. Did you need me to accompany you?”

Karina shook her head. She huddled into herself, feeling so much like a child. She studied the ship in awe. The lights were off. There was a slight hum, but that was all. The whoosh of nearby traffic was louder.

“Then I guess this is goodbye,” he said stiffly. “Take care of yourself.”

Karina opened her mouth, then shut it. She nodded. He nodded.

Karina didn’t move.

“Go,” he said. “Or you’ll freeze.”

Karina jerked. She barely even noticed the cold, though she was gripping herself tightly. She felt strangely hot on the inside as her thoughts turned over and over again.

She took a step forward, then another. Then another. Before long she was amid the trees, the grass crunching beneath her footsteps, sticks snapping against her weight.

It was very quiet, only the sound of the breeze through the leaves. It felt lonely. Very lonely.

When she reached the bitumen, she stopped and stared. This was her street. ~This~ was home.

She turned back, expecting to see the alien, but he hadn’t followed. For the first time since he’d kidnapped her, he was actually leaving her ~alone~.

The street was empty and dark, except for a single streetlight that gleamed brightly against nearby windows.

Karina pulled her jacket around herself more tightly. She was shaking, and no matter how hard she held herself, it wouldn’t go away.

Go home. Go home. Go home. And yet her feet wouldn’t listen.

She could see her house, looking almost identical to the rest. All those walls. All that quiet.

Nobody was asking how she was. Nobody was making sure she’d eaten. Nobody in the neighborhood even looked at her. Did they even know she was gone?

Her skin was prickling. Her teeth were chattering. Move. Move. Move.

She turned at a flash of headlights. With a gasp, she stepped back as a car turned the corner a little too fast and pulled into a nearby driveway.

Karina watched as the man left the car and hurried inside to his waiting family.

She knew him by sight, of course. He had three children and a pretty wife.

Despite living in the neighborhood for ten years, she didn’t know his name. None of their names. Nobody’s name.

Wiping her trembling lip, she stepped back and turned. Her feet were moving now—and they were moving quickly.

There was a flash of more lights—this time through the trees. A gust of wind blew.

She wanted to call out, but the air was wheezing in her lungs, her chest tight.

She broke through the trees. The ramp she’d descended was gone, but the ship was still grounded.

Lights were twinkling around its middle, red and green. The hum had turned to a vibration that she felt through her feet.

Her ears were roaring with blood as she waved her arms. Was she really doing this? Was she ~actually~ doing this?

~Of course you are, you slut,~ her father said.

Karina continued to wave. Could he even see her? What if he left?

She waved harder. She jumped up and down. The lights went dim. The vibration ceased.

Slowly, the ramp came down. Karina glanced back through the trees, her heart hammering in her throat. She felt stuck, like her feet were mired in glue.

“Karina?”

She turned. He was standing at the top of the ramp, the faint glow of his ship gleaming against his yellow gaze.

Karina’s throat swelled, and she quickly looked down at her feet as the tears flooded her eyes. She covered her face as they started to drip.

His footsteps thudded loudly in the quiet. “Karina?”

He was standing in front of her, though at a cautious distance.

Karina winced as she thought back to the last time they’d been together. To the last time he ~tried~.

~Stop touching me!~ Karina licked the salt from her lips. Her scream seemed to echo in her head. It seemed to echo in the air between them.

Her skin and eyes and throat were cold, but she was sweating in her jacket. She shifted on her feet.

“I—I…” Closing her eyes, she took a shuddering breath. “I want to… I want to… ~try~.”

She felt the heat flood her face as she wiped at her sticky cheeks, still keeping herself bent low.

Silo was silent for a long time. “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.”

She looked up, then down again. She wiped her nose. “Don’t give up on me.”

Again, he fell silent. Karina glanced up to see him looking back at the ship.

When he turned around, she looked back down again.

Again, he was quiet. “You should stay,” he said.

Karina shook her head.

“You ~need~ to stay.”

Finally, she looked up at him properly. He looked sad, a deep crease running down the center of his forehead.

“No,” she said.

Chewing her lip, she looked down at his hand. If only she could grab it. If only she could hold it like the others were doing with ~their~ aliens.

Her hand twitched at her side, but nothing more. Why couldn’t she? Why couldn’t she just do it?!

“Help me,” she said in barely more than a whisper. She screwed her eyes shut. “~Help~ me.”

“I don’t know if I can.”

“Help me!” Her voice echoed through the trees. Opening her eyes, she glared at the ground.

He was quiet. “I have to go.”

She watched as his feet turned. The blood was racing through her veins.

And then it happened. She finally did it—her arm shot out and she was grabbing onto his hand.

He looked back with a start. Slowly, Karina raised her glaring eyes. Tears were rolling down her cheeks. Her hand was shaking.

“Please,” she said. She reached out her other hand and grabbed his wrist. She held on tight.

Karina forced herself to meet his gleaming gaze. They stared at each other.

He turned to look back at the ship, anxious to go, then turned back.

“If you come back…”

“I know.” Lowering her eyes, she glared at the ground again.

“Okay.” Gently, he took her hand and pulled it away from his wrist, holding it. “Okay.”

“Okay.”

Her heart was racing as he guided her up the ramp, his hand in hers.

He led her back to the little room she’d been in before.

He left her there without a word, and Karina dropped her head into her shaking hands.