Edison took her hand, touched it to his visor and then returned it to her, folding it gently against her own chest.

“You know I can’t do that. You know this is where we part ways.”

“No,” she said, shaking her head hard. “We didn’t agree on that. I didn’t agree to that!”

“Rosalyn. Rosalyn.”

She slapped at his shoulders but he carefully fended her off, waiting until her fury was spent, waiting until she sank back down and looked in every direction for help. There was no help. There was the sharp bite of the pod’s edge under her ass and the tearstained face in front of her, his lips in a grim line, his eyes . . . His eyes.

“Edison . . .”

“I’m not having this fight,” he blurted. “It’s hard enough watching you go, I refuse to argue about it. For once don’t be stubborn. Please.”

“Shut up,” she breathed, reaching out slowly and holding his helmet. The flat under them seemed to roar, then shake, nearly throwing her out of the pod. But Rosalyn ignored it. “Your eyes. They’re . . . they’re yours. They’re brown. They’re beautiful.”

He stared back at her, dumbfounded, searching her face with, for once, eyes that were purely, wonderfully human.

“Isn’t that a sign?” she whispered, feeling stupid and heartsick and berserk.

Edison put his hands over hers, tipping their visors together. She heard his long, long sigh and shivered. “No, Rosalyn. There are no signs. There are no signs for us, only decisions. It doesn’t matter what my eyes look like, I’m a liability. That stuff is still inside me and all over me. You’re the only record of this we have when the station goes. The station will be gone. The Brigantine will be gone. Foxfire will be gone. Misato and I . . . we’ll be gone, too.”

“No,” she cried. “You can’t make me do this alone.”

“You’ve done so much alone, so many incredible things,” Edison told her, his voice trembling as steadily as her hands. “This is just one more incredible thing, and I know you can do it.”

“But I don’t want to, I don’t want to go without you. Please. Please. Not after all of this, not now. Your eyes, they’re human, you have to believe me.”

Edison was silent while the station around them screamed, every fail-safe failing, every safety measure inadequate against the plated core being forced off its axis. She didn’t care if the whole thing came down around their ears, she wasn’t leaving without him.

There were so many times—so many times—when she wasn’t believed and when she didn’t believe in herself, but this was not one of them.