She stood beneath a nearby tree and launched a small handful of microcams so that Connor could see her. His feed composite showed him inside an auto, his eyes closed, body slumped into a seat, purple under his eyes and hollows in his cheeks. Her hand reached out involuntarily, needing to touch him. He had no one to take care of him but her, and she was on the other side of the continent, hidden away in a secured building.

“Hi, cardo,” she said gently, after opening an audio channel between them. “How are you doing?”

The corners of his mouth twitched upward. “Hi,” he said, his voice hoarse and weak. “I’m good enough… to send home. Not so great… at talking.”

At least he was well enough to try smiling.

Connor cleared his throat and switched to text, fingers twitching as he typed. They stitched up my internals and put on me a bunch of juvers, but they’re keeping the essential stuff stockpiled. I’m supposed to get a fresh batch of pills delivered tomorrow.

Welga nodded. With his level of injury, their kitchen wouldn’t have the necessary materials to fabricate everything he needed to heal.

Marcelo said he’d come by if I need any help. Or send over his care-bot.

Their friend lived one hive away and had purchased a bot to look after his aging parents.

“Good. I’m glad someone’s looking after you. I need to head back inside soon—storm’s coming—but I’ll check on you again when I can.”

We haven’t caught the Machinehood yet, he sent. The launch is in four days.

Welga winced.

We’re going, right?

“I watched some of those lectures from the monk—Ao Tara—and it doesn’t sound so bad, but cardo, you’re in no shape for a rocket launch, and we haven’t made enough progress on the Machinehood. They need me. I’m sorry.”

His fingertips flew. Who knows when we’ll get another chance at this? Let someone else do the heavy lifting this time, please. Haven’t you given enough of yourself? And what about your tremors? Have you sorted that out yet?

“I’m doing fine for now.” As long as she kept at least one zip in her system… and didn’t count the seizures.

And later? He raised his brows. If it kills you? If you don’t make it home?

She shoved away the memories from Marrakech, of Connor sitting at her hospital bedside when she awoke. “It won’t, and I will. I’ve come this far, and I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.”