Chapter 24 #2
But some things are more important than research. Some people are worth more than careers.
She was making one last sweep of the lab when Cass appeared in the doorway, Zach’s massive form looming behind her.
“Ready?”
Alina looked around the empty lab one final time. “As I’ll ever be.”
Cass’s eyes were red-rimmed, her usual composure cracked by emotion. She’d been trying to be brave about Alina’s departure, making jokes about video calls and care packages, but the facade was wearing thin.
“Come on.” Alina pulled her into a hug, holding tight. “Don’t you dare cry. If you cry, I’ll cry, and then I’ll never be able to leave.”
“Too late.” Cass’s voice was muffled against her shoulder. “I started crying yesterday and haven’t stopped.”
“Cass…”
“I know, I know. This is the right thing. You’re doing what you have to do.
I understand all of that.” She pulled back, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.
“But you’re my best friend, Alina. You’re the first person I met when I came to Mars, the one who made this place feel like home.
And now you’re leaving, and I don’t know when I’ll see you again, and it’s hard. ”
The tears Alina had been fighting back broke free, streaming down her cheeks. “I know. I’m sorry. I wish—”
“Don’t apologize. Not for this.” Cass gripped her shoulders, forcing eye contact. “What you’re doing—choosing love, choosing freedom—that’s brave. That’s right. I just wish I could come with you.”
“You have your own life here. Your own love.” Alina glanced at Zach, who was pretending very hard to be interested in the ceiling. “Mars needs people like you, Cass. People who care about making this world better for everyone, not just the corporations and the politicians.”
“I know.” Cass sniffled, managing a watery smile. “Doesn’t make it any easier.”
They stood like that for a moment, holding onto each other, saying goodbye in the only way that mattered.
“You have the coordinates?” Alina asked finally.
“Encrypted and memorized. I’ll destroy the original as soon as you’re clear.”
“And the samples—”
“Already distributed. Dr. Rodriguez has the atmospheric data. Dr. Vance is handling the botanical samples. Everything is in trustworthy hands, scattered across half a dozen facilities that GenCon can’t touch.
” Cass’s expression hardened. “By the time they figure out what we’ve done, the knowledge will be everywhere. They’ll never be able to suppress it.”
“Thank you.” The words felt inadequate, but Alina didn’t have better ones. “For everything. For believing in me, for helping me, for being my friend when I needed one most.”
“Always.” Cass pulled her into one last fierce hug. “Now get out of here before I change my mind and lock you in a storage closet.”
Zach stepped forward, his massive frame surprisingly gentle as he helped load her containers onto the rover. He didn’t say much—he rarely did—but the careful way he handled her belongings spoke louder than words.
“Take care of her,” Alina said quietly, nodding towards Cass.
“Always.” His voice was rough, but his eyes were kind. “And you take care of yourself. The outer territories are dangerous, even for people who belong there.”
“I’ll have help.”
Something passed across his face—understanding, perhaps, or recognition. He’d been transformed too, after all. Remade into something more than human, something that straddled the line between familiar and alien. If anyone could understand what Rhyx was facing, it was him.
“Good.” He extended a hand, and she shook it firmly. “Safe travels, Dr. Falkner.”
The rover hummed to life beneath her, its familiar vibration a comfort against the chaos of emotions churning in her chest. Cass stood in the doorway of the habitat dome, one hand raised in farewell, her figure growing smaller as Alina pulled away.
Don’t look back, she told herself. Looking back only makes it harder.
She looked back anyway.
Cass was still there, still waving, still watching. Zach stood beside her now, one arm wrapped around her shoulders. They looked right together—two halves of a whole, unified against whatever the universe might throw at them.
That’s what I want, Alina thought. That’s what I’m choosing.
She turned forward and didn’t look back again.
The main road out of Border Town was a dusty ribbon of compressed regolith, carved by years of traffic and maintenance.
It wound through the valley floor, past processing plants and storage facilities, past the scattered habitats of miners and researchers and engineers who had come to Mars seeking opportunity.
How many of them found what they were looking for? Alina wondered. How many discovered that the frontier doesn’t care about dreams or ambitions or carefully laid plans?
She’d been one of the lucky ones. She’d found her purpose here, her calling, her place in the grand project of human expansion.
And now she was leaving it all behind for something she couldn’t explain, couldn’t justify, couldn’t defend to anyone who hadn’t looked into Rhyx’s eyes and seen the ancient depths within.
They wouldn’t understand, she thought. They couldn’t.
But Cass understood. Jeb and Mattie understood. And perhaps that was enough.
The road curved north at the valley’s edge, climbing towards a pass that cut through the mountains. This was the route Jeb had mapped out for her—a path that would take her far from Border Town, through territories rarely traveled, to the rendezvous point where Rhyx would be waiting.
Three days, Jeb had said. Travel slow, take your time, don’t attract attention. He’ll meet you at the coordinates.
Three days had never felt so long.
The pass was narrow and winding, its walls rising steep on either side. Rust-colored stone caught the afternoon light, creating shadows that shifted and danced as the rover crept forward. There was a stark beauty here, a grandeur that human presence had barely begun to touch.
This is what he knew, Alina thought. This is what he remembers.
Rhyx’s Mars had been different—alive, vibrant, filled with creatures and civilizations now lost to time.
But the bones of the land remained unchanged, ancient geology persisting through all the upheavals of planetary evolution.
In a sense, he was coming home to a familiar skeleton, even if the flesh had long since rotted away.
We’ll build something new, she promised silently. Together.
The sun was beginning its descent when she reached the coordinates—a flat stretch of ground sheltered by a natural amphitheater of stone. It was isolated, defensible, invisible from the main road. Perfect for a camp.
Alina pulled the rover to a stop and stepped out, stretching muscles cramped from hours of driving.
The air was thin and cold, carrying the faint metallic tang that she’d grown accustomed to during her time on Mars.
Without her mask, she would have struggled to breathe here—but she’d brought extra oxygen supplies, enough for several days of travel.
Not that I’ll need them much longer.
The thought brought a smile to her lips. Rhyx had explained about the plants in the cave, about the oxygen they produced, about his own ability to survive in the thin Martian atmosphere. Wherever they ended up, she suspected breathing would be the least of her concerns.
She began setting up camp with practiced efficiency—deploying the portable shelter, checking the power cells, arranging supplies for easy access. The movements were automatic, requiring little thought, leaving her mind free to wander.
What would life be like in the outer territories? She’d heard stories, of course—tales of cyborg settlements that operated outside corporate control, of communities built on mutual aid and shared purpose rather than profit margins. But stories were one thing; reality was another.
It doesn’t matter, she told herself. Whatever it’s like, we’ll face it together.
She was securing the last corner of the shelter when movement caught her eye.
A figure in the sky, silhouetted against the setting sun.
Her heart stopped.
Wings. Golden wings, catching the light, turning amber and bronze and copper as they beat against the thin Martian air. The figure was still distant, but growing closer with each powerful stroke.
Rhyx.
She stood frozen, watching him approach.
Even from this distance, she could make out the broad span of his wings, the golden gleam of his scaled skin, the impossible grace of his flight.
He looked like something out of legend—a creature from the myths of old Earth, transplanted to this alien world where he had once been native.
He banked, adjusting his trajectory, and she saw his face for the first time. Even at a distance, she could read the joy there, the relief, the desperate longing that matched her own.
He’s really here. He’s really mine.
The thought shattered something inside her—some final resistance, some last holdout of doubt.
She’d given up everything for him. Her career.
Her home. Her carefully constructed life.
And in this moment, watching him soar towards her against a sky painted in shades of fire and gold, she knew with absolute certainty that she would do it again.
A thousand times. A million times. Forever.
He landed in a swirl of dust, his wings folding back as his feet touched the ground. For a moment, they just stared at each other—two people from different worlds, different times, different species, bound together by something stronger than any of those differences.
“Alina.” Her name was a prayer on his lips.
“Rhyx.”
And then she was in his arms, and nothing else mattered.