She gave him the key. It was light, almost weightless. He brought his knees to his chest, pushing the metal into his mi’owa. It fit easily. He turned it towards the window and they heard a tiny click, a beep. A thin seam appeared. The mi’owa halved and fell onto the bed with a soft thud. Ula looked at his bare ankle, the separate halves. He massaged the tendons, ignoring her gaze.

‘What about you?’

‘I’ll take the key. Stay. When the opportunity arrives, I’ll escape.’

He shook his head, feeling the violence. ‘They’ll find the key.’

‘I’ll hide it inside me. It worked before. You escaped by yourself, that’s what I’ll tell them.’

‘Again?’

Fellucia stared. He shut his mouth, reached for the separate halves of the tag and picked them up, connecting the circle around his ankle, pushing them together. That click was louder. A light turned green and pulsed steadily for two minutes, died. He took her soft hands, nothing like his wife’s, or son’s.

‘I can’t risk my family. You.’

‘You must.’

‘I can’t.’

‘It’s your choice, but you must. I waited. I could’ve run, but I waited. You can run in my place.’

Her eyes glistened. Warmth, softness, heady perfume. They hugged. Ula let her go and saw the key was still in his palm. He tossed the thin metal from his right hand to left. A small, bloodless imprint, temporarily branded into his flesh. He stared at the ghost of what had once been.

‘It’s your choice,’ Fellucia repeated, and he couldn’t stand to see her for fear of betraying everything, their past and his future.

When Fellucia could no longer stay awake, Ula slipped from the bed and her cavernous room. He entered the tunnel outside the door not knowing where he was going, only that he should journey downwards and so he did, back the way they’d come, sometimes stumbling in darkness, other times unable to slow himself as the incline was steep. He felt along sharp-ridged refuse. The warmth was comforting. Their walls retained the heat of the day, pushing it outwards during the night. Only in the largest rooms did humans actually feel the chilled outside temperature. The cold-blooded tem’ondri felt nothing.

Soon, a door. When he pushed it swung outwards easily, letting in cool air. A few hours until dawn, and the heat was already rising. Ula stepped into the night, smelling long grass, and found he could see better than he’d hoped. He walked without knowing the terrain, what was out there. There could be snakes, wild cats, maybe the occasional bear. All bigger than anything found on Earth. Ula wasn’t afraid. He’d never been fearful of the land. It’s mine, he thought, as he walked across solid, compacted rock. It’s mine as much as theirs.