Romy hopped to the bottom of a large boulder and dropped her parachute pack and crutches with a clatter. Using a succession of smaller rocks as footholds, Romy made it high enough that she was able to reach for the smooth top of the large boulder and drag herself up, wincing as her ankle shot pain to her hip.

She made it—eventually—breathing hard on all fours. Her knot could be at the bottom of the hill. With a deep breath she rose to her knees and looked over Earth.

There was so much to look at, her eyes couldn’t focus on just one sight. The beauty before her stole all thought from her mind. The vision was so breathtaking Romy decided that, if she died, this vision might just have made everything in the last two days worth it.

Earth. An oasis. Her home. She could feel it. This was where she belonged.

Romy twisted in a full circle on her knees.

She spotted the area she’d hopped from. A thin trail of smoke wound up above the tree line from the wreckage of the battler. Having located her starting point, she then began to turn in a circle, slowly scanning.

She did this three times.

And three times the result was the same.

Nothing.

No other smoke trails. No wreckage. No visible sign her friends were anywhere close by.

She sighed. Had she really expected it to be so easy?

At least there were a few signs of water. She noted the largest body, far in the distance; it must have been an ocean as she couldn’t see the end of it. The last book she’d read was a fascinating tale about a man lost at sea for over a month.

Another body, smaller, lay off to the far right—a lake.

And the final visible water source—a river—twisted through the wilderness to the ocean.

So there was plenty of undrinkable water around. But the real question was, did she return to her wreckage, knowing it was her best chance of recovery by the Orbitos. . . .

. . . or. . . .

Romy studied the river once more.

If she went straight down and to her right, she would intercept it. It would lead her to the ocean. Maybe if Romy was drawn there, then her friends would be, too. Her training told her the decision made no logical sense. But with nothing else to go on. . . .

She left a second large arrow, made of dead tree limbs, on the top of the hill, pointing in the direction of the sea. It made her feel better to leave a trace of her passing.

Romy’s second night on Earth was spent somewhere on the side of Mount Death.