Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Leaving Rhyx was like tearing off a piece of her own skin.
Alina stood in the airlock of Jeb and Mattie’s habitat, her breathing mask already sealed in place, watching him through the inner door.
He filled the small space behind the transparent panel—golden skin catching the artificial light, blue eyes fixed on her with an intensity that made her chest ache.
One more night, she thought. We only had one more night.
They’d slept tangled together in the narrow guest bunk, his massive body curled around hers like a protective shell. She’d woken twice in the darkness to find him watching her, his strange pupils dilated in the low light, one clawed hand tracing gentle patterns on her arm.
“You’re sure you have to go?” Mattie had asked over breakfast, her voice soft with sympathy.
“If I don’t show up at the lab today, Martin will notice. He’s already suspicious.” Alina had forced herself to eat, though every bite tasted like dust. “The longer I can maintain the appearance of normalcy, the more time we have.”
Jeb had nodded, his enhanced eyes thoughtful. “I’ll start reaching out to my contacts today. Carefully. The cyborg networks aren’t monitored as heavily as corporate communications, but GenCon has eyes everywhere.”
Now Rhyx pressed his palm flat against the inner door, and Alina raised her own hand to match his through the transparent barrier.
His fingers dwarfed hers—each one as thick as two of her own, tipped with those wickedly curved claws that could tear through metal but had only ever touched her with devastating gentleness.
“I will come back,” she said, knowing he could read her lips even if he couldn’t hear her through the sealed door.
He nodded once, his jaw tight.
She turned away before she could change her mind.
The rover journey back to Border Town felt endless, though it couldn’t have been more than two hours. Alina drove on autopilot, her mind churning through contingencies and escape routes, trying to plan for scenarios she couldn’t fully predict.
If Martin knows—if GenCon knows—
But they couldn’t know. Not really. If they had proof of Rhyx’s existence, they wouldn’t be playing political games. They’d have sent armed teams to the mountains days ago.
They suspect, she reminded herself. Suspicion is dangerous enough.
The research station came into view—a cluster of pre-fab modules arranged around a central dome, all of it coated with the omnipresent red dust of Mars. Home, for the past two years. The place where she’d built her career, her reputation, her carefully ordered life.
None of it mattered anymore.
She parked the rover in the vehicle bay and went through the decontamination process on autopilot, brushing dust from her suit, checking her mask seals, logging her return in the station database. Normal. Everything normal.
The corridors were quiet at this hour—most of the researchers would be in their labs or sleeping off night shifts. Alina moved quickly towards her quarters, already mentally cataloging what she’d need to pack, what data she’d need to secure—
“Dr. Falkner.”
The voice stopped her cold.
Martin stood at the junction of two corridors, his pale eyes fixed on her with the particular intensity that always made her skin crawl. His lab coat was immaculate, his hair perfectly slicked, and the reek of his cologne reached her from three meters away.
“Martin.” She kept her voice neutral. “I thought you were meeting with your GenCon contacts.”
“I was.” He smiled, and the expression held no warmth. “They’re here now, actually. In the conference room. We’ve been waiting for you.”
Shit.
“I have research to attend to—”
“This takes priority.” He stepped closer, and she forced herself not to retreat. “Bruce Bentley came all the way from Olympus Mons to speak with you personally. It would be rude to keep him waiting.”
Every instinct screamed at her to run. But running would confirm whatever suspicions they already had. Running would lead them straight to Rhyx.
“Fine,” she said. “Let’s get this over with.”
The conference room was standard corporate sterile—white walls, recessed lighting, a long table surrounded by ergonomic chairs. Bruce Bentley sat at the head of the table like a spider in its web, his fingers steepled in front of him.
He was older than she’d expected—late fifties, perhaps, with silver hair cropped close to his skull and a face that had the too-smooth quality of expensive cosmetic treatments. His suit was worth more than Alina’s annual salary, and his smile was the kind that never reached his eyes.
“Dr. Falkner.” He rose as she entered, extending a hand. “I’ve heard so much about you.”
She shook it briefly, noting the cool dryness of his palm, the practiced firmness of his grip. “I wish I could say the same, Mr. Bentley.”
“Bruce, please.” He gestured to a chair. “Sit. We have much to discuss.”
Martin had followed her in and now took a position near the door—blocking the exit, she noted. Subtle. She ignored him and sat across from Bentley, folding her hands on the table.
“What exactly did you want to discuss?”
Bentley’s smile widened. “Your research, of course. Dr. Reece tells me you’ve made some fascinating discoveries recently. Anomalous biochemical signatures.”
“Dr. Reece is mistaken.” Alina kept her expression bland. “I’ve been conducting routine geochemical surveys. Nothing anomalous.”
“Really?” Bentley pulled a tablet from his jacket and slid it across the table. “Because these readings suggest otherwise.”
Her heart stuttered, but she forced herself to look at the screen calmly. The data displayed was fragmentary—partial sensor logs, incomplete analyses. Nothing that pointed directly to Rhyx or the cavern.
They’re fishing, she realized. They know something is there, but they don’t know what.
“These readings are within normal parameters for volcanic activity in the region.” She pushed the tablet back towards him. “That area has complex geothermal systems. Unusual readings are common.”
“Dr. Falkner.” Bentley leaned forward, his pleasant mask slipping slightly. “Let’s not play games. We both know there’s something in those mountains. Something GenCon would be very interested in acquiring.”
“Acquiring.” She let the word hang in the air. “You mean stealing.”
“I mean investing in.” His smile returned, but it was sharper now.
“GenCon has resources that could accelerate your research exponentially. State-of-the-art equipment, unlimited funding, access to facilities that the Mars Research Consortium could never provide. All we ask in return is partnership.”
“Partnership with GenCon.” Alina thought of the stories she’d heard—the labor abuses, the environmental destruction, the disappeared researchers whose work had been too valuable to share. “That’s a generous offer.”
“It is.” Bentley’s eyes glittered. “I strongly suggest you consider it carefully.”
“I have considered it.” She stood, pushing her chair back from the table. “My answer is no.”
“Dr. Falkner—”
“I have nothing to share with GenCon. My research is my own, and it will be published through proper scientific channels when—and if—I have results worth publishing.” She met his gaze steadily. “This meeting is over.”
She turned towards the door, where Martin stood with his arms crossed.
“Move.”
“Alina—”
“Move, Martin.”
For a long moment, he didn’t. Then Bentley made a small sound—something between a sigh and a laugh—and Martin stepped aside.
Alina walked out without looking back.
She made it halfway to her quarters before Martin caught up with her, his hand closing around her upper arm hard enough to bruise.
“Do you have any idea what you just did?” His voice was a furious hiss, his pale eyes bulging. “That man could destroy your career with a single message. He could have you blacklisted from every research institution in the solar system.”
“Let go of me.”
“You think you’re so clever, don’t you?” His grip tightened, and she could smell his cologne, cloying and suffocating. “You think you can just dismiss GenCon, dismiss me, keep whatever you’ve found all to yourself?”
“I said let go.”
“I’ve been patient, Alina. I’ve given you every opportunity to see reason. But if you won’t share your data willingly—”
“Is there a problem here?”
The voice was deep and cold and absolutely welcome.
Zach stood at the end of the corridor, his massive frame filling the space. Cass was beside him, her expression shifting from concern to fury as she took in the scene—Martin’s grip on Alina’s arm, the way she was pressed against the wall.
Martin released her instantly, stepping back with his hands raised.
“No problem. Just a professional disagreement.”
“Funny.” Zach moved forward, and despite his calm tone, something dangerous flickered in his steel-gray eyes. “Because it looked like you were grabbing Dr. Falkner against her will.”
“She’s my colleague. We were having a conversation.”
“That conversation is over.” Cass had reached Alina’s side, putting herself between her friend and Martin with the protectiveness of a mother bear. “Leave. Now.”
Martin’s jaw worked, his face flushing an ugly red. For a moment, Alina thought he might argue—might try to assert some kind of authority. But Zach took another step forward, and whatever Martin saw in the cyborg’s expression made him think better of it.
“This isn’t finished,” he said, pointing at Alina. “You can’t hide forever.”
He turned and stalked away, his footsteps echoing in the empty corridor.
Alina let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.
“Are you okay?” Cass grabbed her shoulders, examining her for injury. “Did he hurt you?”
“I’m fine. I’m—” Her voice cracked, and suddenly she wasn’t fine at all. The fear she’d been suppressing crashed over her like a wave, and she sagged against the wall. “Cass, I think I have to leave.”
“What? Alina, slow down. What happened?”
“GenCon is here. They’re working with Martin, and they know something is going on in the mountains.
They don’t know exactly what, but they’re getting closer.
” She looked at her friend—her best friend, the person who’d been her anchor on this planet for three years—and felt her heart break.
“It’s too dangerous for Rhyx to stay hidden. And I won’t abandon him.”
Cass’s expression cycled through shock, understanding, and finally grief. “You’re leaving Border Town.”
“I don’t have a choice.”
“But your work…”
The thought of abandoning her research made her flinch, but in the end, people were more important than data.
“I hope I can continue it, just… elsewhere.”
They both knew that the odds were slim, especially without a fully equipped lab, but Cass only nodded, forcing a watery smile.
“There’s always a choice.” Zach’s voice was quiet but firm. “Tell me about the cyborg contacts you mentioned.”
Alina took a shaky breath and explained—Jeb and Mattie, the discovery of the connection between cyborg nanites and Rhyx’s resurrection, the hope that the cyborg networks might offer resources and protection that she couldn’t provide alone.
Zach listened without interrupting, his enhanced eyes thoughtful.
“It’s a good plan,” he said when she finished. “The cyborg communities have resources most humans don’t know about. Safe houses, communication networks, people who know how to stay hidden from corporate surveillance.”
“You think they’ll help?”
“I think they’ll want to meet Rhyx before they commit to anything. But yes—if Jeb vouches for you, they’ll help.” He paused, something shifting in his expression. “You should know, though—they would have helped even without the cyborg connection.”
“What do you mean?”
“The cyborg communities have always protected those who need protection. It’s part of who we are.” His jaw tightened. “We know what it’s like to be hunted. To be seen as property instead of people. If your friend is in danger from GenCon, that’s reason enough.”
Alina felt tears prick at her eyes. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet. You’re still going to have to convince Matthias that you’re worth the risk.”
“Matthias?”
“One of the community leaders. If Jeb’s reaching out through proper channels, Matthias is probably who he’s contacting.” Zach’s expression was unreadable. “He’s… cautious. But fair. If you tell him the truth, he’ll listen.”
Alina nodded, filing the name away.
Cass had been silent through this exchange, her green eyes bright with unshed tears. Now she stepped forward and pulled Alina into a fierce hug.
“I’m going to miss you so much,” she whispered.
“I’m going to miss you too.” Alina hugged her back, breathing in the familiar scent of her friend—dust and machine oil and the faint floral soap she favored. “I’m sorry. I never meant for any of this to happen.”
“Don’t apologize.” Cass pulled back, her hands still gripping Alina’s shoulders. “You found something incredible. Someone incredible. You’re doing the right thing by protecting him.”
“Even if it means giving up everything else?”
Cass smiled, though it was watery at the edges. “Especially then.” She glanced at Zach, something soft and certain passing between them. “Trust me—some things are worth giving up everything for.”
Alina thought of Rhyx—of his strange beauty and fierce protectiveness, of the way he held her like she was something precious, of the future they might build together if they could just survive long enough.
“Yeah,” she said quietly. “They are.”
She packed that night, moving through her quarters with mechanical efficiency.
The things that mattered fit in a single bag: data chips containing her research, a few changes of clothes, the photo of her parents she’d kept on her desk for three years. Everything else—the books, the personal touches she’d accumulated, the life she’d built on Mars—would have to stay behind.
I’ll come back, she told herself, even though she knew it was probably a lie. Someday, when it’s safe, I’ll come back.
Her tablet chimed with an incoming message.
TO: A. FALKNER
SUBJECT: Package ready for pickup
Contact made. Meeting arranged for tomorrow evening. Coordinates attached. Come alone—but bring your friend.
Alina stared at the message for a long moment, her heart pounding.
Tomorrow.
Tomorrow she would leave this place forever.
Tomorrow she would take Rhyx into the unknown and hope—pray—that they’d find somewhere safe.
She closed the tablet and lay down on her bed, staring at the ceiling until exhaustion finally dragged her into uneasy sleep.