THE WRATH OF the eyes bore down on me as I floated beneath their ever-present glares. But I could barely feel it, consumed as I was by the full force of Jorgen’s pain, his anger, even his resentment of me for tearing him away from there. I choked on it, feeling every ounce of it down to my bones.
We fell out of the negative realm and the feeling faded, but the echoes of it lingered, as if I’d just watched my own parents die.
The members of Skyward Flight were climbing out of their ships, moving toward the windows near the entrance of the hangar to watch the Superiority ship as it tore itself to shreds, its hull ripped apart, its engine systems exploding in silent clouds of dust and smoke. Cuna stood off to the side, staring out at the remains of the Superiority ship as they scattered across the backdrop of stars.
Jorgen made a strangled sound and most of the flight turned around and saw us there, shock and relief reflecting across their faces. Arturo closed his eyes, like he’d been sure we were both gone and had to steady himself for a moment. Rig hurried down the tunnel from the control room behind us. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t know what to do with it, I—”
“It wasn’t your fault,” I said. And that was true.
This was the Superiority’s fault. Every bit of it.
Jorgen stared out at the pieces of the ship as they spiraled outward, shrapnel spreading in every direction. His face was like a statue, though I’d felt the grief he was holding in.
“Did Gran-Gran—” Rig asked.
“She got out,” I said. “So did Cobb. I saw them.” I scanned over the planet, searching in the negative realm for another cytonic mind, but I couldn’t feel one. I reached out farther, searching for Gran-Gran—or even for Cobb, who Gran-Gran said she could feel in the negative realm though I’d been sure he wasn’t cytonic.
I couldn’t find them. They weren’t here. And there were no dead spaces left that would hide them.
“They made it out,” I said. “But… I don’t know where they are.”
“At least they weren’t here,” FM said. She put a hand on Jorgen’s shoulder, but he shook her off.
“We’re going down to Platform Prime,” Jorgen said.
“Okay,” FM said, “but I think you need to stop for a minute—”
“Now,” Jorgen said. “I’m sorry, Alanik. We’ll be a little late returning to ReDawn.” He turned and looked at the floating pieces of ship, the place where both his parents had died. “There are some things we need to take care of first.”
