I grunted, then turned forward and kept walking. He pulled up beside me and lowered his car so that his head was barely a meter above mine.

“Spin? Are you really planning to walk eighty klicks?”

I didn’t reply.

“You realize it’s dangerous out here,” Jorgen said. “I should order you back. What if you get caught in a debris fall?”

I shrugged. I’d been living near the surface for months, and had only really been in danger that one time—when I’d discovered M-Bot’s cave.

“Spensa,” Jorgen said. “For the North Star’s sake, get in. I’ll drive you.”

“Don’t you have some fancy rich-person event you need to be attending?”

“My parents don’t know about the medical leave yet. For a little while, I’m as free as you are.”

Me? Free? I wanted to laugh in his face.

Still, he had a car. This would transform a multiday trip into one that would last a few hours. I resented him for giving me the option, as I’d wanted to be on my own. To suffer, perhaps. But a part of me knew I wouldn’t reach Hurl’s body with what I had in my pack. I’d probably be forced to turn back after a day of hiking.

“I want to go with you,” Jorgen said. “It’s a good idea. Hurl… deserves this. I brought some materials for the pyre.”

Stop being right, Jorgen. I thought. But I walked around the car and climbed into the passenger side. I had dust up to my thighs, which I smeared all over the car’s interior, but he didn’t seem to notice.

He pushed on the car’s throttle, sending us darting across the landscape. The car had a small acclivity ring, and no booster, just basic thrusters—but being so close to the ground, I felt like we were going faster than we really were. Particularly with no roof and the wind blowing my hair.

I let the motion transfix me.

“Do you want to talk?” Jorgen asked.

I didn’t reply. I didn’t have anything to say.

“A good flightleader is supposed to be able to help his flight with their problems,” he said. “You couldn’t have saved her, Spin. There’s nothing you could have done.”

“You think she should have pulled out,” I said.

“I… That’s not relevant now.”

“You think she shouldn’t have gone for that kill. You think she disobeyed protocol, and shouldn’t have flown off on her own. You’re thinking it. I know you are. You’re judging her.”

“So now you’re angry at me for things I might be thinking?”

“Were you thinking them? Were you judging her?”

Jorgen didn’t say anything. He kept driving, wind blowing in his too-neat, too-perfect hair.

“Why do you have to be so stiff all the time?” I asked. “Why does your way of ‘helping’ always sound like you’re quoting from some manual? Are you some kind of thinking machine? Do you actually care?”

He winced, and I squeezed my eyes shut. I knew he cared. I’d seen him that morning in the classroom, trying to find a way to save Morningtide in the simulation. Over and over.