It was just in my mind. I was safe. In bed. Where I’d been for the last thirty-six hours.

I laid my head back on the pillow and wiped the sweat from my forehead. My body was shaking, but this time it’d been a dream. A nightmare. I wasn’t burning on the surface. I didn’t even have to put on a suit today.

It took a minute for that to sink in, but once it did, I took one last shuddering breath and felt much better.

Ahiga was right. I didn’t get the full seven days he asked for, but I did get two days off. I slept for most of the first day and through the morning of the second. It didn’t matter that nanos had healed my feet. The whole experience had left my body so weak, Audrey had to half-carry me to my bunk. It was worse than anything I’d ever experienced before, and I was really hoping this would be the only time I was forced to use nanos here.

With a sigh, I heaved my legs over the edge of my bunk. I’d heard movement and women talking earlier but hadn’t found the energy to force open my eyes. My bunkmates were gone now—off to do whatever they did on the base—and I couldn’t sit here forever. The couple of times I’d gotten up yesterday, I’d walked very carefully. My feet had been a little tender still. Today, I had to believe that my feet were okay. I held my breath as my feet touched the polished concrete and then took a few steps.

Audrey had been right. They were fine. Tender and sensitive—the cool floor tickled my soles—but my feet were healed. She’d checked on me yesterday, bringing me some food and electrolyte packets. She’d even done my laundry, which was above and beyond, but I couldn’t let her keep taking care of me. It was time to face the world again.

I let out the breath I’d been holding and headed for the showers. Tomorrow I was going to have to go back out there. The thought of it made my stomach twist, and my nausea returned worse than before.

I pressed a fist into my stomach and swallowed hard a few times. Starting my day by heaving into a toilet didn’t sound awesome. Nervous energy buzzed along my skin—more than any breathing exercises could help—and I knew that if I didn’t distract myself, my skin would start to glow.