“So, how are you holding up?” he asked.
“Fine,” she said. “Though I’m getting a little sick of Robot Wars.”
He chuckled. “I noticed. Too much winning will do that to you.”
“It’s not a challenge,” she agreed. She flashed him a grin. “Still, you can never win too much.”
He looked at her sidelong. “I’m trying to resist the urge to remind you what Targon’s going to do to you in the game…”
She shrugged. “Maybe I won’t play.”
“Oh, you will,” he said. “You’ll be too bored not to.”
She smiled, letting her gaze roam the distant plains.
“I’ve been meaning to ask; do you feel any different?” Will asked. “In that new body and all.”
She glanced at him. “Maybe at first. It’s been a few days now. I’m used to it.”
“You told Jairlin the nano tech doesn’t bother you but is that really true?” he asked.
“I don’t really think about it, except maybe when I use them. Do you think about the intricacies of your body when you go about your daily life?”
“No, I guess not,” Will admitted
They were quiet for a time.
Her eyes drifted to the virtual decoration she had placed on the inside of one of the supports that held up the pipeline.
“It’s a portrait,” she told him.
“What’s that?” he asked.
“You always ask what augmented reality overlays I have active,” she said. “My virtual decorations, as you call them. It’s a portrait. Of me, made by a fan. A victory pose atop a pile of dead Hydras. Here.”
She enabled public overlay sharing so that he could see it too.
“I look at it when I need hope,” she said. “When I need to remind myself what I’m capable of when I really put my mind to it. When I focus all my energy on a goal.”
The two stared at it in silence for a time.
“Thank you for sharing that with me,” Will said. “Here’s mine.”
A hologram appeared in front of her. It, too, was a portrait, framed by exquisitely carved cherrywood. It depicted two happy people, a man and a woman, and the young boy between them. The child couldn’t have been more than eight to twelve years old.
“My parents,” Will explained. “I hang it up in every room I call home. Seeing them gives me strength as well. Reminds me of the person I want to be. Whenever I’m not sure of something in my life, I ask myself, what would my parents have done? It’s because of them I came back to fight with you in Rust Town, when the Hydras attacked. It’s because of them I’ve done a lot of the good in my life.”
“They raised you well,” she told him.
He nodded. “I just wish I could have done more for them.”
She reached out, and squeezed his hand reassuringly, then released it to gaze upon the plains once more.
“It’s so quiet here,” she said. “The calm before the storm.”
“We still have five days to Mars once we’re finally aboard the Molly Dook,” he reminded her.
“Yes, but I’ll be crowded into the same room with you all,” she said. “Here at least, I get a chance to relax alone, by myself. This is my last chance to do that. This is my calm before the storm.”
“I hear you.” He folded his knees close to his chest and rested his arms upon them. “I’ve been wondering something.”
She glanced at him. “Yes?” There was a strange tone to his voice. Almost… accusing.
“Why did you get so distant in the conference room, when DragonHunter suggested how bad it would be if your nano machines were hacked? You’re worried that’s actually going to happen, and you’ll be responsible for the end of the world?”
“More than that,” she said. “I believe it has already happened.”
His brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”
“It was Ganymedean nano machines that caused the Great Calming,” she said.
“How do you know?” he asked.
“I just do,” she replied.
He studied her, then spoke slowly, as if carefully measuring each word. “That doesn’t necessarily mean you were involved…”
She smiled sadly. “No, but there’s a good chance I was, and you know it.”
“You seem to be taking it well, if that’s true,” he said.
“I try not to dwell on it too much,” she said. “If I did, the guilt would destroy me. Instead I try to focus on how I can help humanity, going forward. Make reparations for what I’ve done. That means finding a way to bring water from Ganymede, to Earth.”
“Ganymede isn’t the only place water exists in the solar system,” Will stated.
“No,” she admitted. “There are other sources. Though Ganymede is one of the easiest to harvest, considering we already have the infrastructure in place on the planet, courtesy of the Europans.”
“When you have your little heart-to-heart with Khrusos, I’m sure you’ll bring up the water issue,” Will said.
“I’m sure I will,” she agreed.
“Assuming you even get close enough to talk to him,” Will said. “There’s that little problem with the Martian government having issued a warrant for your arrest and all…”
She tapped her lower lip with one finger. “I almost wonder if I should allow myself to get arrested. Just so I can get close to him more easily.”
Will laughed. “I somehow doubt he’d come visit you in your jail cell. And even if he did—for whatever twisted reason—let’s just say, if you intend to convince Khrusos to drop the bounty on your head, and to sign an agreement with the Europans, doing so from a jail cell is hardly what I’d call a favorable bargaining position.”
“I suppose not.” She sat back. “Scratch that idea.”
“Consider it scratched,” he said.
She stared at the rocky plains. “I remember a time when I thought I was going to be a salvager, living a nomad’s life, roaming the Outlands, dodging bioweapons to get my salvage. How did we get here, to this place? Hunted by assassins. On the road to confront the most powerful man in the solar system?”
“You know how,” Will said.
“Because of a little mark upon my head?” she asked. “A
