Chapter 34 - CLEO
CLEO
SAbrINA’S SINGING LIKE A canary, explaining exactly what the Graves crew were up to.
‘Listen,’ she’s saying to the assembled crowd of stressed-out West African Union staff, one of whom is carefully recording the whole thing.
‘I thought we were committing a small crime, I’ll own up to that.
I thought we were yanking some data that would help Graves on the business front.
Getting a few hitcher names on the register was part of my payment, and the rest was cash.
I did not know we were committing wholesale murder. I want that on the record.’
She’s sitting on one of the two infirmary beds, and I’m on the other, everyone else crowded into the room. We’ve been stripped of all our tech and handed plain Afro U jumpsuits. The medic put a blanket around my shoulders because I can’t seem to stop shaking.
We’re under guard, I guess, because nobody has worked out yet if we’re heroes or villains. They sent a recon party to the ruins of Pax about an hour ago – the dust storm is finally clearing, and they reported that they can see debris everywhere.
‘Do you think you could drink something?’ asks a man with kind eyes, who I’m sure has told me his name at least twice already. ‘I’d like to get some supplements into you, for the shock.’
I just hold my hands out, because I know if I take it from him he’ll go away, at least for a little.
Nearby, a harried man is speaking to the woman who I think is the head of the base.
She has the most beautiful dark brown skin and her braids are coiled into spirals.
If the world hadn’t ended, I think I’d find her absolute competency quite comforting.
‘—I’m not sure, Administrator. I do know there are messages flying in every direction.
FreyaCo, India and Euro West are redeploying their satellites to get a look at the surrounding territory and see if there really are Graves troops positioned to move in.
Seems like the big guys all finally found something they agree on. ’
‘It’s over for Graves,’ she agrees, adjusting her braids as she takes a screen from him, prepping for some kind of video conference.
‘Hunter had nothing to do with it,’ I say, raising my voice so the administrator turns to listen. ‘Hunter Graves. He tried to stop them.’
‘That’s true,’ Sabrina calls out, breaking off her own narrative. ‘He didn’t know. He tried.’
‘Hunter Graves tried what?’ the administrator asks, frowning her confusion.
‘He tried,’ I repeat, because those words are all I have left to offer him now. I want everyone here to see him like I do. To understand who he was.
‘How did he – wait, Hunter Graves is on Mars?’ the administrator asks, her eyes widening.
‘He—’ But I choke, and as my voice gives out and my face crumples again, I see her understand.
Hunter Graves was on Mars.
Perhaps it doesn’t matter to them – Pax is gone, Hunter is gone. But I want them to know who he was.
Sabrina’s finally winding down, and I can see the energy leaching out of her as reality sinks in. We escaped Nico and Blue Braid, but whatever comes next won’t be good for either of us – and everyone on her team is gone.
It’ll be my turn for a debrief soon. I’ll tell them I’m a hitcher. Maybe they’ll deport me back to Earth. Somehow, I just don’t care.
‘Recon party’s back, ma’am,’ someone calls from the door, and everyone turns toward the voice. I can’t see anything through the sea of bodies, and suddenly, I don’t want to. I hug my mug against my chest, huddling inside my blanket, shrinking back.
They wouldn’t have retrieved bodies, would they? No, you’d need a big rover for that. But that would mean he’s still out there somewhere, on the surface, and that’s worse. He’d be so cold.
I’m so cold, despite my blanket.
There’s a fuss rising by the door, voices growing louder, and the people near me shuffle as if someone’s shoving their way through. Then individual protests start to make their way through the crowd.
‘Who’s—?’
‘I thought—’
‘But you can’t—’
And then …
And then …
And then.
And then Hunter’s ghost is standing in front of me. He’s covered in sweat and grime, his warm brown skin sallow with exhaustion, his hair disheveled, his eyes shadowed. You’d think a ghost would get to come back looking however they liked. Or do they have to look like they did when they died?
‘You don’t get to choose?’ I murmur, feeling like I’m floating on cottonwool clouds. ‘Seems unfair.’
‘What?’ he asks, and something deep inside me starts to struggle awake. ‘Cleo?’ he says as I stare at him, his expression slowly turning uncertain.
Like I’m dreaming, I slowly raise one hand, extending it toward him. I’m so sure my fingers will pass straight through him that when they come to rest against his solid chest, my heart nearly stops. ‘Wait,’ I rasp. ‘Wait, are you …?’
And then he understands, and he flashes me that impossible grin of his, and it’s like the sun coming out. ‘I’m right here,’ he says softly, those green eyes focused on nothing else in the world but me.
And I think my mug hits the ground, and then I’m launching myself at him, and my arms are around his neck as he staggers back. I tangle one hand in his hair to pull his lips to mine and lose myself in the kiss that comes next.
He’s so warm, so solid, so real, and his arms are around me to keep me in tight against him, and I can taste my own tears, but I can’t stop.
‘I’m here,’ he whispers, when we finally break for breath, and he presses his forehead to mine, and I focus on that point of contact, on the feeling of his strong hands against my body.
‘How are you alive?’ I whisper. ‘The base blew. It blew early.’
‘I got outside,’ he murmurs. ‘In a pressure suit, with an air tank, like you showed me. You taught me how, Cleo. I got outside without about a minute to spare. Then I waited, and hoped my oxygen would last, and the cavalry showed up in time, lucky for me.’
‘What about …’ I don’t even know what I hope for his sister. And the Martian, I suppose. The Boxer. Grace. Even Mr Chin-Up. I mean, of all of them, I hope Marguerite’s dead. She was prepared to murder thousands of people. But I ache for what that will do to Hunter.
‘I don’t know,’ he says quietly, pressing his forehead to mine, the words just for us. ‘It’s possible she got the last rover working in time, but she had maybe two minutes to do it in? I – I think it’s unlikely she managed it.’
‘I’m sorry,’ I whisper.
‘Me too,’ he murmurs back. ‘For who she used to be, if not who she became.’
Our next kiss is softer, gentler. Comfort and togetherness, answers rather than questions. He cups my face with one hand, and I take what I think might be my first deep breath in hours.
‘I told them it wasn’t you,’ I whisper. The crowd has coalesced around Sabrina, who’s found a second wind and is answering more of their questions, and for at least a few moments, Hunter and I are on our own tiny island of two. ‘They know you’re not responsible.’
He glances up and past me to where one of the media screens shows his mother at a press conference, surrounded by reporters from every outlet in the solar system, their hands in the air with the frenzied energy of a mob of predators.
The sound is on mute, but I can tell she’s shouting, coming apart at the seams in front of our eyes.
‘I still think I might be broke now,’ he murmurs, rueful. ‘There won’t be much of a company left.’
‘What will you do?’
‘I’m not sure,’ he admits. He drops his gaze – when I look down too, I realize he’s still wearing his cuff. ‘Maybe it’s time I joined your side,’ he continues. ‘See what good I can do with what I have left.’
‘Maybe we figure out what our side looks like,’ I whisper in reply. ‘We can probably leave that until after we’ve showered, though.’
That wins me a proper smile. ‘You’re probably right. You know, there is one thing I want to try, though, that I don’t think can wait.’
I tilt my head into his touch and find I’m smiling too. ‘What’s that?’
His eyes gleam. ‘I did say that if we survived this, I was going to ask you out on a date.’
Somehow, impossibly, a laugh escapes me. ‘And I told you I’d say yes, Hunter Graves.’
And then I kiss him again.