Theo gasped with realization, yanking his hand out of Jun’s pocket to poke him in the sternum with an excited finger. “Until my paper was published in the Journal of Linguistica Obscura.”
Jun closed his hand around Theo’s finger, squeezing lightly before he guided it away. “Yes, and you’ve made more progress in a week than I did in a year, Theo. You’re just—you’re amazing. I’m not like that. I didn’t inherit my parents’ intellect.”
Another subject Theo was very familiar with—faltering self-esteem. He couldn’t stand to see it in Jun. “Perhaps you didn’t inherit their interest in academics, but you have shown your worth many times over. The notes had been so clearly organized that it was simple for me to apply my knowledge to them. You set that up for me, which was no small task.”
Jun shook his head, mouth drawn in a tight line. “My parents were brilliant, brave, and honorable. We had nothing in common.”
The noise Theo made with his lips would have gotten him thrown out of his mother’s drawing room. “Poppycock. I’m sure you have much in common, such as stubbornness and a short fuse. A long second toe. And, as should be apparent to anyone who has spent any amount of time in your company, an abundance of bravery.”
He reached out to take both of Jun’s hands in his, rubbing over the knuckles with his thumbs. “It certainly took courage for them to do what they did, as much as it is taking for you to pursue their work now.”
In their absence, he did not say. Jun had never mentioned, and Theo had never asked, but he got the distinct impression Jun’s parents were no longer among the living. His heart ached for him.
Emotion crested in Jun’s face as he leaned down to Theo, and it splashed over into his voice when he spoke quietly and fervently. “I must continue their work because I’ve seen what will happen if I don’t.”
Guilt, dread, and just the barest shimmer of hope were all plainly there for Theo to take in. He squeezed Jun’s hands encouragingly. “What will happen?”
Jun’s mouth twisted into a frown, unhappy creases appearing to either side. “Verge decay. Twenty years ago, the decomposition reached the point where integrity was compromised and there was a shift. The entire barrier contracted inwards, cutting off the three outermost Verge settlements and scorching away their water sources.”
Theo gasped as a horrified shiver ran down his spine. “The Three Colonies disaster? I was just a child, but I remember the news flashes. So many Verge settlers died. It was terrible, but they fixed it—the programming error in the barrier that caused the disaster.”
Jun nodded solemnly, his grasp tightening around Theo’s hand just short of too much, and he spoke through gritted teeth, “The Quorum claims they fixed it, but it’s a lie. If they delay long enough, then the Verge will contract, once again cutting off the outermost Verge settlements. Then it will stabilize for another twenty years and become someone else’s problem. My parents objected and found their lives in danger.”
It was chilling to even contemplate. Theo had never given much thought to the Quorum beyond vague annoyance at the restrictions the governing body placed on Core citizens. “Do you mean to tell me they plan to sacrifice innocent lives for their own convenience?”
Jun’s face reflected Theo’s horror, with a veneer of anger bubbling over the top like lava. “They deem it an acceptable loss in order to maintain the protection of the Verge for the Core planets.”
If Ari were here, he would don his most disdainful face and drip ice in his words. All Theo could do was hiss with rage. “There is nothing about this that is acceptable.”
Jun’s rage mirrored Theo’s, welling up in every line of his body, every twitch of his face, ticking like a time bomb in his clenched jaw. “No, there isn’t, and I have no choice. I have to finish what they started. And I have—” He glanced away, and the sickly green glow overhead caught the sheen in his eyes. “—so much to make up for. Bravery doesn’t enter into it.”
Standing so close, Theo couldn’t miss the bob of Jun’s throat or the raw, wet sound of it as he swallowed against nothing. Jun pulled his hands out of Theo’s grasp and stepped away, putting a good three feet between them.
Theo’s hands were cold. He pressed them against his chest as Jun strode away down the alley.
“Come on,” Jun said, casting his voice behind him. “We’ve wasted enough time.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Darkness had spread across the sky like a bruise by the time they exited the alley.
The glowing signage everywhere seemed brighter in contrast as the street was cut into pieces by bright light and deep shadow.
Peering into one of the shadowed sections, Theo recoiled and tugged on Jun’s coat. “Jun, look. What in the stars are they doing?”
Theo gawked at a cluster of people of indeterminate age taking turns shocking themselves with a rusty phaser, screaming and laughing. Tears flowed freely in technicolor streams down their faces, bright makeup washed away in smearing streaks.
Jun tugged Theo’s hood further up over his head, then crossed his arms over his chest with his right tucked in snug against his holster. “Just some stun-junkies and mist-mouths. Don’t stare. Keep your head down; act
