CHAPTER 17
STATION DELTA
Naia had been to Station Delta often enough to know that the mountain made you earn every visit.
The access trail left the maintained upper-flank road almost immediately, narrowing into a strip of dark volcanic ground that wound between old deposits and scrub stubborn enough to survive where nothing else seemed interested in growing.
The slope was steeper here. The air thinner.
The village had disappeared behind them long ago.
Above, the dome was hidden by the shoulder of the mountain.
Naia preferred it that way.
You could respect something more easily when you couldn't see the whole of it.
She adjusted the strap of her pack and glanced back.
Elena was climbing behind her with the instrument case secured against her hip, moving carefully but without hesitation.
That had become normal.
A few weeks ago, Naia would have watched every step Elena took.
Now she only watched the ones that mattered.
"Still good?" Naia called.
"I'm a scientist, not a tourist."
"That's not an answer."
Elena looked up at her.
"I'm good."
Naia nodded.
"Then keep moving."
"Very inspiring."
"You paid extra for the premium tour."
Elena's mouth twitched.
There it was.
The small almost-smile that had become dangerously easy for Naia to notice.
She turned back toward the trail before she could think too much about it.
Since Ash Beach, everything between them had become slightly more complicated.
Not worse.
That was the problem.
If it had been worse, Naia could have put it somewhere useful in her mind. Something to avoid. Something to manage.
Instead, they were simply different.
Their hands no longer accidentally found each other without either woman noticing.
Their eyes did.
And sometimes that was harder.
A burst of radio static crackled from Elena's shoulder.
"Delta team, you alive?"
Rico.
Naia smiled before answering.
"Unfortunately."
"Excellent. I was worried I'd have to do all the work myself."
"You've been doing all the work yourself for approximately twelve minutes."
"Exactly. It's exhausting."
Elena laughed quietly behind her.
Naia looked back.
Rico's voice came again.
"Tell me you brought the replacement relay."
Naia lifted the case in her hand.
"We did."
"Then I forgive you for being late."
"We're not late."
"Emotionally, you are."
Naia shook her head.
"He's impossible."
"I like him," Elena said.
"That's because you haven't had to repair anything with him."
"She can hear you, you know," Rico called.
Naia stopped walking.
Elena nearly walked into her.
"What?"
"How are you hearing us?"
A pause.
Then Rico said, very calmly, "Professional equipment."
Elena laughed again.
Naia couldn't help it.
She smiled.
That was Rico.
Dry, irritating, dependable.
He could make a bad day feel ordinary without pretending the bad thing wasn't there.
And beneath the jokes, Naia trusted him.
That mattered.
Station Delta appeared around the next bend.
It was smaller than Elena seemed to expect.
A reinforced monitoring shelter sat against the slope, half buried into the mountain's contour, with cables running from its side toward the instrument array farther uphill. The installation looked less like a building than something the mountain had reluctantly allowed to remain.
Rico stood outside with one boot braced against the lower frame of a sensor housing.
He lifted two fingers in greeting.
"Welcome to paradise."
Naia dropped her pack.
"You call this paradise?"
"No tourists."
"That's because they're intelligent."
Rico grinned.
Elena set the instrument case down.
"How bad?"
"Nothing dramatic." Rico crouched beside the housing. "Relay has been throwing intermittent errors. I wanted to replace it before it became something dramatic."
Naia appreciated that answer.
No performance.
No pretending everything was fine.
Just the problem.
And the fix.
She knelt beside him.
"Show me."
For the next twenty minutes, the three of them worked.
Rico handled the electrical connections. Elena checked the data feed. Naia stabilized the housing and kept an eye on the slope and the sky.
This was what she understood.
Hands busy.
Eyes moving.
People doing the jobs they were good at.
The mountain made more sense when everyone respected the boundaries of their expertise.
Rico passed Naia a tool without looking.
She caught it.
"Thanks."
"I knew you'd need it."
"You've been working with me too long."
"That's what I'm afraid of."
Elena glanced between them.
"You two have known each other a while?"
"Too long," Rico said.
"Since before the station existed," Naia said.
Rico nodded solemnly.
"We were young. Beautiful. Full of hope."
"You were twenty-seven."
"Exactly."
Naia snorted.
Elena smiled.
The work continued.
For a while, the awkwardness disappeared.
Not completely.
But enough.
Then Elena's hand brushed Naia's when they both reached for the same connector.
Both stopped.
It lasted barely a second.
Still, Naia felt it.
She looked at Elena.
Elena was already looking at her.
Neither moved.
Rico, mercifully, was turned toward the open panel.
Naia withdrew her hand first.
"Sorry."
"Don't be."
Elena's voice was quieter than usual.
Something shifted in Naia's chest.
The station suddenly seemed very small.
The mountain very far away.
Elena looked down at the equipment.
Then back at her.
"About the beach—"
"Delta, do you copy?"
Rico's radio cut across the sentence.
Elena closed her eyes for half a second.
Naia almost laughed.
Almost.
Rico was still staring into the panel.
"I need Elena's eyes on this data feed."
Elena stepped toward the monitor.
"Coming."
Naia watched her go.
For a moment, neither woman looked back.
Then Elena did.
Just once.
Naia met her eyes.
There was something in the look.
Relief.
Disappointment.
And, underneath both, a quiet acknowledgment that the conversation hadn't disappeared.
It had only been postponed.
Naia gave the smallest lift of one eyebrow.
Elena's mouth curved.
Barely.
Then she turned toward the monitor.
Naia looked out across the slope.
The swarm was still there.
Faint vibrations moved through the mountain beneath her boots—not enough to alarm her, but enough to remind her that the quiet was not the same thing as stillness.
She rested one hand against the railing.
Station Delta sat high above the village, exposed to weather, gas, rockfall, and whatever the mountain decided to become next.
It was difficult to reach.
Difficult to maintain.
Easy to underestimate from below.
Naia understood the place.
She understood why Elena cared about it.
And, increasingly, she understood why she cared about the person standing inside it.
Behind her, Rico swore softly.
"That's not supposed to be doing that."
Elena moved closer to the monitor.
Naia turned.
"Problem?"
Rico shook his head.
"Not yet."
Naia looked at Elena.
Elena looked back.
Neither woman smiled this time.
They had both learned the difference between not yet and not at all.
The mountain had taught them that much.