Five years by himself? No wonder he was looking at her like she was some kind of strange experiment. He was bound to be a little rough around the edges if he’d lost his knot.

“For five years?” she repeated. “I take it you couldn’t get in touch with the Orbitos?” She frowned at the black singlet that hugged his chest tightly. His pants were also black, with pockets down the sides. “How are you still alive?”

He shrugged. “No idea. Just am.”

Romy rolled her eyes. Well, that was helpful, she thought. “Where is your uniform?”

He snorted. “You expect me to wear it for five years?”

She clamped her mouth shut so no more stupid questions came out.

“I’m going to let you up,” he grunted. “I’d rather not have to track you down again—which I will if you bolt. There are all sorts of dangerous animals and plants out there. You’re not safe. Understood?”

Romy thought about it and nodded. He rose in one swift motion and she clambered to her feet.

“My name is Atlas,” he said, his back to her. “What’s yours?”

She took her time answering, still trying to piece everything together. He’d been here for five years. This place could support human life. How do the Orbitos not know about this?

“Romy.” She hated how her voice shook.

The man, Atlas, pulled her supplies and another pack—which clearly belonged to him—from the shrubs at the base of her tree. He’d returned to the riverbank and then crept up on her. How did he sneak up on her? She could’ve sworn she hadn’t fallen asleep.

He frowned and looked down at her pack in his hands. “That’s not an Orbito name. Unless they’ve moved away from historical names.”

“They haven’t,” she said. “My full name is Rosemary.” She noticed she was fidgeting with her hair, and dropped the limp strands.

He smiled a curious half-smile. “Rosemary was draped around the neck of Aphrodite when she arose from the ocean.”

Romy gave him a doubtful glance. “It’s also used in cooking.”

She smiled a moment later when the man gave a larger quirk of his lips.

“And Atlas was forced to carry heaven on his shoulders as punishment.” She was sorry for the words when his face hardened.

He brushed both hands on his sides as he stood straight and regarded her before finally saying, “It’s also a book of maps.”

She nodded warily, questioning his sudden change in emotion. Five years, she reminded herself. He tossed Romy her belongings.

She dug out her orange suit. A night in underwear was acutely uncomfortable without protection from the tree bark. If she did run again, it would be while fully clothed.

“What happened?” he asked in a low voice. He opened his pack and passed her some slightly pink meat. It looked tough.