CHAPTER 42 LEE #2
He was still amid his doom spiral when Kat joined him at the railing.
She looked weary-worn, as much so as he felt, but her cheeks were pink, and somehow, brightness still clung to her, weariness and all.
The thrill of a challenge. He supposed plotting and ploying was what they did best. But he wondered how much of that thrill would still remain once this was all distance behind them.
“We might actually pull this off, Waters.”
And despite the chagrin plaguing him, he couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corners of his lips. “You and me in the deep of space… What could possibly go wrong?”
He tugged her into his side, relishing the warmth of her body against his, her arms clasping securely about his middle. At least one thing appeared to be in order.
“She called him Niko,” Kat sighed.
“That’s the importance you latched onto from this evening?” Lee teased, eying her. She had the peaceful calm about her that only incoming sleep could bring to the invincible Kat Hanneman.
But Kat turned her gaze on him, blinking up at his face, with sleepy lashes and those lovey grey eyes of hers. “I think they’re cute.”
“Well, that’s good,” Lee said, pulling her head back against his collarbone. “Because if we’re looking at their schedule, they likely still have another week before they’re due to break up again.”
“Cynic.”
“Your words, not mine.”
“Yeah, well. Maybe I’ve since adjusted my viewpoints on life.”
Oh, could he relate. Spiraling novae, could he relate. She always kept him on his toes, this one.
Lee’s hyperband buzzed. Still gripping Kat tightly with one arm, he held the other aloft so he could see the response there from Jed. A short, concise message, and one he’d heard a little too often as of late.
Still digging.
He sighed, unable to quench the disappointment that doused his system.
And when he felt Kat turn to peer up at him once more, questioning, he drew in a long breath, letting it slowly escape, peeling his stare away from the gap between railings as he looked back at her.
As he let her see every raw and warring feeling battling inside of him tonight.
“I just… I want all of this to mean something. All our research into their mainframe. Our efforts with stealing the ship. In sacrificing our careers—for all intents and purposes, we are essentially disappearing from the galaxy.” He shook his head, trying to clear away the doubts waiting in the wings to pounce.
“I don’t doubt my decision—our decision, in leaving the Academy and the AMG behind.
I have no regrets there. I couldn’t serve another term with a clear head or a clear conscience having learned what we have.
I just wish there were more. More to go on.
More to be found. More good to be done.”
He swam in her gaze, watching for some shadow, some fault, some blame to come his way.
And it never came. He clenched his free hand along the cool metal of the railing, eyes tracing along its polished slope.
“I keep going back to that formula we found in the Commander’s notes.
Verinity. There has to be something to it, something there, something we just aren’t seeing that triggered her attention.
When I found that radiation band from Segura, I was sure that it was some sort of a sign.
” His eyes flickered back over to Kat. Again awaiting judgement there.
But none came. “I was sure that maybe it wasn’t just some chance happening, or an accident that I held onto it.
That Gaia and her team let us leave with those bands intact.
And that, maybe, there was something intentional about it.
Some miraculous show of trust. A clue-in, the piece of evidence or detail that would justify all of our actions for the past few months.
A justification that my gut had been right, and that I hadn’t just been blindly chasing after some pretty dreams on a drunken heart.
Or maybe it was all just that. Nostalgia from a rush of excitement, and a preserved momento from a soon-to-be-distant memory. ”
The pressure with which Kat now clutched at his middle nearly stole the breath from his lungs, but he stared down into her face, still tilted fervently up towards his.
“It will mean something,” Kat said, finally.
Voice unwavering, face unrelenting. “It does mean something,” she insisted, making him carry her gaze.
“Even without evidence, or much to go on. Even if it’s just us in the end, chasing after the faintest hopes of a future in the days to come, trusting only our guts to get us there.
I trust what we saw and what we felt that day on Segura.
I trust the belief in a better galaxy.” She squeezed once more into his sides, before raising a chilled hand to grip his jaw.
Firmly, but not tightly, she held him there.
“It means something, Lee, because you made it so. And that makes it mean something to me, too.” She released his jaw, letting her hand drop down to rest upon his shoulder blade, a warm, tingling beginning where her fingers met his suit.
She stared out into the dimness and he followed suit.
“Maybe they don’t have the answer. Maybe they aren’t the answer.
Maybe it turns out that they were just that—a dream.
But we keep going. And we chase after the next one.
And the next one after that. And one day—someday, we’ll find that cosmic trail—that wish we’re looking for. Someday, we’ll find it.”
He had long since forgotten about the Canteen down below, mesmerized only on the ethereal being beside him as he peered over at her. “Kat and Lee, unstoppable force to be reckoned with.”
“Dream chasers.” Kat smiled, a secret smile that glimmered up at him.
“Where you go, I go.”
“Wherever the stars may lead.”