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The packets are all stao--the Greek lambda, for LaRoux My father and his stupid fixation on y He told ods and goddesses, and I al Someone to be worshipped unconditionally But who names a starship the Icarus? What kind of man possesses thatfor hi over the crash site No one’s looking for us here With a jolt, I realize that by now my father must think I’m dead There are no rescue ships, so they must not knohere the Icarus went down--she could have fallen out of hyperspace anywhere in the galaxy He already lost ht years old I try to ioes blank

I wonder if the engineers who designed the Icarus are still alive, or if his vengeance has already destroyed theertips, as I did countless tihout my childhood It would be easier not to connect this twisted heap of wreckage, this ship of my father’s coing a pot full of spices and boxes of powdered broth I et Tarver to drink He wakes up only reluctantly, and only after shoving et a few spoonfuls of broth down hiht, checking to be sure the fire isn’t visible beyond our little hollow, that our belongings are all close, that Tarver’s gun is at his side, where it belongs

I lug some water from the stream nearby and use strips of the sheets to wipe his face and throat, which are burning hot to the touch I’ sterile hich to wrap it back up again, but the skin around the bandage is flushed red and painful-looking

Eventually I run out of tasks and crawl into the bed beside him He’s so warm that despite the chill, it’s uncomfortably hot under the blankets Nevertheless, I slip close to hirass and sweat and so In his sleep, his good arm curls around me, just a little

I’hly off the round My mind is sloake, and for a few moments I can only think another survivor has found us and is trying to see if we have anything worth stealing My heart is pu

Then I realize it’s Tarver who shovedto hiood sign The sky is partially cloudy, blocking the light from the artificial mirror-moon

I craard the coals of the fire and throw on a few pieces of deadwood until it flares up, letting h ht it impossible if I hadn’t seen him above the valley with the vision of his house--afraid His ible, his lips dry and cracked

"Tarver?" I craard hiet you some water Let me just--"

I start to reach for his forehead, to feel his te in the dirt,The stars overhead weave and waver as my vision clouds, and it’s only with a monumental effort that I claay back toward consciousness, dizzily dragging un pointed directly atinto space His face is set in a snarl far ined from him The spot where the back of his hand connected with my cheek throbs and radiates heat with each pulse of my heart

"Tarver?" It’s barely a whisper

He blinks, and his head turns toward un wavers and dips His eyes focus, and h dry lips

"Sarah," he croaks

"It’s ing "Please, Tarver It’s roans and collapses back again, the hand holding the gun dropping "God, I’ve et close, feel his te up The makeshift pillow under his head is soaked with sweat

"Sarah, I feel rotten"

In his fever, he thinks I’irlfriend,at home? I realize I’ve never even asked

"I know you do," I whisper, giving in I can’t reach hiet back inside that wreck, clear a path to the deeper, less intact parts, and find the sick bay

He h to ease the gun out of his grip He doesn’t even twitch I tuck it into the back ofat its presence I don’t know the first thing about guns, but I know I can’t leave it here with hithe flashlight--and after a moment of hesitation, Tarver’s notebook and pen I need to ate the labyrinth of sharply slanting corridors and broken staircases in complete darkness, but I can’t afford to wait Tarver can’t afford for me to wait