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“Everything will be fine,” he said one last time through
gritted teeth.

“I
dreamt this,” she suddenly said.

Carson
paused, his once determined expression faltering. “Sorry?” He was
still sitting on his haunches, a good half meter from her side.
Concern flashed through his gaze. “What do you mean?”

“Back
on Earth, I dreamt of this. I didn't understand at the time, but
now I see it was a warning,” she noted in a far-off
voice.

Though
she tried to focus on a patch of clean, white floor just past
Carson's left knee, she darted her gaze up to meet his.

He
looked . . . freaked out. But that didn't stop
him from inching a little closer. He still apparently didn't have
the gumption to touch her, but now he was right by her side. “What
did you dream of?”

“It
just started off as blue light. I would be standing on the surface
of Remus 12, and I'd look down to my left palm,
and . . . ,” she remembered how horrible the
dreams had been at the time, how hard she had tried to get that
blue light out of her hand. But now she was covered in it, and now
she had surrendered to what it was. But that didn't stop her from
remembering how terrifying the dreams had been. Taking several even
breaths to calm her voice down, she continued, “and then the dreams
started to change. Do you remember several nights ago when you came
to my room and I demanded you take me to the hospital?”

He
gave a low, bitter chuckle. “Yes,” he pointed out dryly. “I'm not
sure I will ever forget.”

“I
forced myself to go to the hospital because of what I dreamed, but
the docs just told me I was stressed,” she noted as she brought her
hands up and stared at her fingernails.

Finally, Carson touched her. He brought one of his own hands
out and covered hers, pushing them down lightly, cantering her
attention as he did. She looked into his eyes, and he looked back
into hers.

“What
did you dream of? It's okay; I'll believe you,” he added with a
light chuckle. “After what I've seen, I'll believe
anything.”

She
wasn't quite sure whether that was meant to be reassuring, yet she
couldn't help but smile.

Nor
could she help but feel calmer, and safer than she had
before.

Because she wasn't alone.

Whilst
the entity still remained in her mind, the sudden connection she
felt with Carson was completely different.

He
didn't blink once and neither did he drop his gaze; he simply
nodded at her to continue.

He
still had his hand on top of hers, and the warmth that translated
down his skin into hers was astoundingly pleasant. It gave her the
strength she needed to finish what she had started, “I dreamt I was
walking down the Academy halls, buckling the walls. Then people
would come up to try and stop me, and I would,” she wheezed, “I
would,” she couldn't say it.

“Kill
them?” he suggested softly.

She
choked, tears swelling in her eyes. But she managed to nod
nonetheless. “Yes. I would do to them what I did to the Barbarians.
Just point a finger at the ceiling, and they would go slamming into
it. I'd hear the crunch of bones, and blood would drop on my face
as I walked underneath them, and,” she choked again, more tears
streaming down her face. “I was terrified that it would really
happen. The dreams were so vivid. That's why I went to the
hospital. But nobody would believe me.”

“Hey,
I believe you now,” Carson took one of her hands in his and held it
firmly. He no longer appeared scared of the blue light darting over
her body. In fact, he didn't even glance at it; he only stared into
her gaze. “We're heading to Remus 12. We will solve this.
Together,” he added.

She
nodded.

“Now
there is something I have been dying to ask you for over a week,”
he began.

Her
stomach involuntarily twitched with nerves.

Not
the kind of terrifying, panic-filled nerves that had been assailing
her ever since she had left Earth, but a different kind
entirely.

She
fancied she even blushed, not that anybody would be able to tell
considering how blue and glowing her skin was.

“What
happened to you on Remus 12? How did you sustain those injuries?”
he finally asked.

Oh,
she felt like saying. That's it?

Instead, she nodded her head. “It took me a long time to
remember, but I do now. I found another set of stairs. When you and
Commander Sharpe sent me back to the compound, I was walking in the
dark, and I tripped down another set of stairs,” she admitted with
a cough.

Carson
gave a small smile.

His
lips pressed in, and his chin dimpled. It was categorically one of
the cutest, most charming moves she had ever seen.

“Shut
up,” she said under her breath, even though he hadn't said a
thing.

“You
fell down a set of stairs,” he prompted, serious this
time.

“Yes,”
she sighed. “That's where I lost your scanner. Anyway, it was
really dark, and I got turned around, and when I went to crawl up
what I thought was the right set of stairs, it led me somewhere
else. Into this room,” her voice tightened.

“What
was in the room?” Again, his gaze darted around, searching
hers.

“Nothing . . . except a statue. It was
holding a blue orb,” she managed.

She
watched as the skin around his eyes slackened. He had mesmerising
eyes. They were large and violet. They were the kind of eyes you
could happily stare into without ever getting bored.

“A
statue?” he prompted.

“I
walked over to it. I don't know. I felt like I was drawn towards
it. And then, before I knew what I was doing, I touched it. Some
kind of force erupted from it, I fell on my back,
and . . . ,” she couldn't say the
rest.

“Nida?
What happened next?”

She
finally withdrew her hands from his, and she tapped her chest. “The
light rushed inside me. And then I don't remember anything else.
Somehow, I got back up to the surface of the planet, and that's
where you and Sharpe found me. And
well . . . ,” she trailed off.

“I
know the rest,” he nodded. Then he sat back, finally falling from
his haunches, and landing onto is butt with a thump. He brought his
knees up in front of him, and loosely held them with his hands.
“Right,” he managed as he scratched his eyebrow distractedly. “I
probably shouldn't say this, but I'm going to say it anyway,
Academy recruits are taught fairly early on not to touch weird
looking glowing objects on alien planets.”

She
pressed her lips together, letting them crumple in. “Shut up. Plus,
I told you, I felt like I was being drawn towards it.”

He
smiled. “I know. I was playing with you.”

Despite the situation, she laughed.

It
felt strangely good. It felt that with just a little bit of humour
it could make all the desperation and panic and agony simply drift
away.

. . . .

It
couldn't, at least not really.

As she
sat there in silence, she felt cold, terrified, and
overcome.

“What
do you think will happen to me once we return to Earth?” she
finally asked in a falsely even tone.

Carson
didn't immediately answer.

She
looked up at him sharply.

“I'll
do what I can. Once the Admiral understands what happened, nobody
will blame you,” he tried.

“You
don't really know that, do you?” she asked perceptively. “It will
all depend on what they believe. And hey, let's face it; they're
probably going to lock me up on Jupiter Substation for at least a
couple of months as they run tests.”

He
winced, and he went to shake his head, but he stopped. “I’ll fight
for you,” he said. It was a simple enough statement, but it felt
like it was out of the blue.

She
ticked her head to the side, feeling awkward. She tried to push her
hair behind her ears, only to realise how oily it was.

Yuck.

She
was in desperate need of a good shower, a good sleep, and a good
eat. As if to confirm that, her stomach gave a rumble.

While
the entity appeared able to sustain her with its own energy,
perhaps the fight with the Barbarians had left it running on
empty.

Carson
heard her stomach rumble, and raised an eyebrow. “I take it you're
just hungry, and you don't actually have a bear in your stomach,”
he quipped.

It was
a bad joke, but it made her laugh. Possibly a little too much,
because once again, it felt incredibly good to laugh.

Carson
joined in, and when they petered out, he finished off with a
smile.

She
stared at that smile for entirely too long, until she finally asked
something she had wanted to for the past several weeks. “Why are
you helping me?”

He
looked momentarily taken aback, then he shook his head in
disbelief. “Because you have an incredibly powerful entity inside
you that must be returned to Remus 12 before it corrupts space
time,” he said very clearly as if she'd forgotten
everything.

She
shook her head. “That's not what I mean. Back on Earth, before
anybody really knew what was wrong with me, you were the only one
who seemed to . . . I don't know, care.
Why?”

It
appeared to be an uncomfortable question for him, and he receded a
little, dropping her gaze and staring at his hands instead. “I
don't know, really, I just . . . . You caught
my eye,” he tried.

She
really did blush this time, but once again, you would have required
a microscope to see it past her vibrant blue skin.

Her
expression changed though, and Carson clearly saw it. He put a hand
up. “Sorry, that didn't come out right. I mean to
say . . . . I don't know. You were just acting
so strangely. And I couldn't help but be intrigued by what happened
to you down on the planet. We found you lying in the dust with a
broken rib, a severe concussion, and a sprained ankle. And
everybody just seemed so content to believe you had fallen over.
How in the hell does anybody damage themselves that much by falling
over?” His voice became impassioned, and he gesticulated widely
with his hands, as if he was sharing some grievance that he'd been
holding onto for a very long time.

“I
once fell over when I was walking down the street as a child, and
broke my hip. And then, when I joined the Academy, in my first
year, I received two broken bones, four concussions, and an untold
number of abrasions. To be fair to everybody else on the mission,
they just knew me better than you did,” she admitted
quietly.

He
looked at her as if he didn't want to believe her, then gently
pressed his lips together. But his silence didn't last. “It still
didn't make any sense. My instinct told me that something else had
happened on Remus 12. So yeah, I kind
of . . . followed you around I guess. I wanted
to get the chance to talk to you, to ask what had really happened,
but then . . . other things started occurring,”
he admitted.

Nida
didn't need to ask him to clarify what those other things
were.

The
accidents with the TI objects.

Carson
looked cold, and even though he was wearing his armour, he brought
up his hands and tried to rub some warmth back into his shoulders.
Then he winced.

She
stared over at him, her gaze darting across the large dent in his
arm. “You are injured. You should fix yourself up,” she
commented.

“Yes,
I should,” Carson noted as he shrugged his shoulders, “but we've
still got three hours, and I kind of . . . want
to finish talking to you first,” he managed awkwardly.

Nida
had no idea why he was being so uncomfortable, and she wasn't sure
whether she should blush again. Instead, she settled on clearing
her throat. “What else do you need to know?”

“Nothing much. It just seems that I've been waiting for the
past two weeks for a chance to talk to you, and it feels damned
foolish to cut it short now.”

She
sat there in silence waiting for him to ask a question, but when he
didn't, she felt itchy and a little flushed. Scratching at her arms
and sighing, she turned around to check the consoles and panels of
the bridge. The ship seemed to be running itself, despite how
damaged it had become in the Barbarian fight.

Still,
it looked incredibly sophisticated. “What kind of ship is this?
I've never seen one before.”

“It's
an experimental vessel,” Carson said, his voice quick with
excitement. “It's incredible. If I hadn't been surprised by that
second Barbarian vessel, I would have been able to overcome the
both of them easily,” he added with a chuckle. Then he stopped.
“Which brings me to my next question: how exactly did you get from
your ship onto the Farsight?”

“Is
this ship called the Farsight?” she asked.

He
nodded.

She
paused. She searched for a way to explain what had happened to her
without it sounding . . . totally and utterly
impossible.