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“Your daughter is probably dead,” he said again, and this tiht in his throat and started to choke hi suddenly safe On Ganymede, he’d had fear to numb him Fear and malnutrition and routine and the ability at anyeven if it was utterly useless Go check the boards again, go wait in line at security, trot along the hallways and see how many new bullet holes pocked them

On the Rocinante, he had to slon He had to stop There was nothing for hi sunward fall to Tycho Station He couldn’t distract hi one—to hunt through There were only the cabin he’d been given, his hand ter for hi he had left And there was enough food and clean water that his brain could start working again

Each passing hour felt like waking up a little more He kne badly his body and ot better Every time, he felt like this had to be back to nor after, he’d find that, no, there had beenat the wound at the center of his personal world like pressing the tip of his tongue into a dry socket

“Your daughter,” he said through the tears, “is probably dead But if she isn’t, you have to find her”

That felt better—or, if not better, at least right He leaned forward, his hands clasped, and rested his chin Carefully, he iined Katoa’s body, laid out on its table When his —else, he brought it back and put Mei in the boy’s place Quiet, erief welled up from a place just above his sto outside hiraduate student, he had done data collection for a study of Pinus contorata Of all the varieties of pine to rise off Earth, lodgepole pine had been theenvironments His job had been to collect the fallen cones and burn theeed a hotter fire, even when it et better, it had to get worse To survive, the plant had to embrace the unsurvivable

He understood that

“Mei is dead,” he said “You lost her”

He didn’t have to wait for the idea to stop hurting It would never stop hurting But he couldn’t let it grow so strong it overwhel hiy he had And fro

His hand terminal chimed The two-hour block was up Prax wiped the tears aith the back of his hand, took a deep breath, blew it back out, and stood Two hours, twice a day, he’d decided, would be enough ti in this new environh to keep him functional He washed his face in the communal bathrooalley

The pilot—Alex, his na to a comm unit on the wall His skin was darker than Prax’s, his thinning hair black, with the first few stray threads of white His voice had the odd drawl so”

The wall unit said so cheerful and obscene Amos

“I’m tellin’ you, the seal’s cracked,” Alex said

“I been over it twice,” A with the word Tachi printed on it froht Stand by”

The pilot took one long, lip-s Prax, nodded Prax smiled uncomfortably

“Feelin’ better?” Alex asked

“Yes I think so,” Prax said “I don’t know”