I grin in satisfaction as I drift back to my room. I may hate Orion for all he did to me after I woke up, but I can’t deny that his clues led Elder and me straight to Centauri-Earth.

And nearly killed him, I think.

My hands raise of their own volition, and I touch my lips with my fingers. That kiss . . . I hadn’t thought about what I was doing, I just did it. And now I can’t forget the way his lips felt against mine. Had I meant what I said, that the new planet would be pointless without him?

Yes.

But . . . if—no, when—the ship lands, everything will be different.

That is just as true as our kiss.

I shake my head. I can’t think about this now.

I lock my bedroom door and pull out the Shakespearean sonnet I found in the room with the space suits. Part of me wants to go back to get the copy of The Little Prince that was down there as well, but I can’t bear the thought of going back to the cryo level just yet. I can’t think about the hatch without also seeing Elder’s crumpled body on the floor. I remember that brief moment when I thought it was already too late.

I run my finger along the smooth edge of the page. I doubt Orion cut it from the book of Shakespeare’s sonnets. Someone’s tampering with the clues, I’m sure of it. I toss the sonnet on my desk as I start pacing around my room. If Orion’s big secret was the planet, we don’t even need this clue. Isn’t the planet the answer to the mystery?

He said there was a choice, though. He said I would have to make the decision. There must be something else—something bigger even than the planet.

I feel a bit like a puppet, with Orion pulling the strings to make me move. Some of the strings, though, are getting tangled.

And some cut.

I take a deep breath and try to forget the lifelessness in Elder’s lips as I tried to breathe life into him again.

Was Elder’s accident even an accident? If someone’s tampering with the clues, how hard would it have been for them to puncture the suit’s air tubes? If I were to go to the cryo level right now and check all the suits, would I find that they were all damaged in some tiny, unnoticeable way?

I collapse into my desk chair and open up the folded sonnet. I’m going to keep playing Orion’s game. Even if someone is trying to stop me.

This sonnet, just like all the others in the book, makes no sense at all. But unlike the other sonnets, this one’s marked up.