And the unspoken follow-up—because I could not.

Find his brother. Was that before or after he stopped the Djarik from blowing up the universe? The problem (or at least one of the problems) was that Leo didn’t even know where to start looking for Gareth. At least with this Zirkus Crayt they had coordinates. A destination. X marks the spot, as Baz would probably never say. The Icarus was already pointed that direction.

Leo knew it was the right course, that he was doing the right thing, but that didn’t keep him from wishing differently.

After all, he’d never asked for this. Any of it. Unlike his brother, he never wanted to go to war. Unlike his father, he never wanted to go into space. He’d been dragged on board one ship and tricked onto another, when all he wanted—all he ever really wanted—was to stay at home.

Leo paused the vid, freezing his father’s face. It was too much for his brain to process—Gareth, his dad, the Djarik, the Aykari—a tangle that only seemed to grow tighter with every string he pulled. It had all been clear once. For the longest time he’d believed in angels and demons. White pieces lined up on one side, black on the other. Now everything was fuzzy. Hard as it was to admit, it seemed like Baz had been right all along. This wasn’t one of those movies where you could tell the bad guys by the color of their uniforms and the minor key of the accompanying musical score. There were no angels; the Aykari were just as responsible for everything that was happening—everything that had happened—as their enemy.

And yet buried at the center of this tangle of knots was something worth hanging on to. A possibility. That in the end, he could somehow get his father and brother back. That they would leave this war behind and find a place to settle down, just the three of them. Somewhere permanent. Maybe somewhere with no ventasium and so no reason to fight over it. Somewhere they could learn how to be a family again. Leo pictured it. Ached for it. He just didn’t know how he’d ever get there.

Leo stared into the empty jar and counted his regrets.

Hello, humans, have no fear.

Let us tell you why we’re here.

We would like to be your friend,

The kind on which you can depend.

We’ll bring amazing gifts to you

We’ll teach you things you never knew.

With our help, you’ll venture far

Traveling from star to star.

After all, it’s only fair,

If your world we hope to share.

So come on, humans, let us in

So that our journey may begin.

—Carl Erikson, excerpt from the picture book Hello, Humans, 2045

Invasive Species

THERE WAS ONLY ONE PLACE IN THE ENTIRE UNIVERSE to get ice cream.

Leo’s hometown of Mason, Colorado, boasted three different ice cream parlors plus a Dairy Queen, and two Hamburger Huts where the milkshakes came in thirty-two-ounce metal cups. But there was only one establishment the Fenders frequented: a mom-and-pop creamery called Fudgy’s, an unfortunate name that found its way into several of Leo and Gareth’s more inappropriate jokes.