Chapter Fifteen
After Faro shared her grief, Amy felt closer than ever to him. And more than that, she was at peace for the first time since her father died. She still missed him and always would, but the wound was healing.
Another week went by, and Amy was ready to learn more about him, see his “other form.” She’d asked Faro to show her several times, but he’d always found one excuse or another why he couldn’t.
Finally, he told her they needed to have a talk. Amy hoped he’d show himself, and then they’d figure out where this relationship was headed.
“It’s time,” Faro said gravely.
“Okay.”
Amy wondered why he looked so solemn. They were in her bedroom, and the inn was quiet for once. His brothers had gone into town, the girls were downstairs having a Scrabble tournament, and the rest of the guests were already in bed.
“I should’ve told you this sooner. I wanted to, but I was torn between my loyalty to the Knights, and my feelings for you.”
“I understand.”
Faro paced back and forth. “I don’t know where to begin.”
“Try the beginning.”
“It’s a reasonable place to start, but you should sit down.”
Her stomach clenched. Whatever this was, it had to be terrible. She’d never seen him look so serious. After sitting on the bed, Amy placed her hands on her lap to keep from fidgeting. Clearly, Faro wasn’t about to confess his love.
“I haven’t been completely honest with you, and it troubles me.”
Yet another bombshell?
“So there’s more?” How could one man have so many secrets?
“Yes.” He rubbed his palm against his chest. “I came here to save my people. Iradia’s sun is slowly dying and every year the planet grows colder. Soon, it won’t be able to sustain us.”
“I’m sorry.”
Faro knelt at her feet. “And your planet’s in trouble, too.”
“What do you mean? Pollution or—”
“No, this is an outside threat.” His breath hitched. “At this very moment, a comet is headed for Earth.”
“I haven’t heard anything on the news.” Amy was stunned, and couldn’t even process what he’d said. It sounded like some sick joke.
“Your telescopes aren’t powerful enough to detect the comet yet, but believe me, it’s coming.”
No, this isn’t real. It can’t be happening.
“What’s the comet’s name?” They had labels, like Haley’s Comet, or the Hale-Bopp one. It was a ridiculous notion, but it was something to hold on to. Amy wanted to know more, quantify this threat, so she had all the facts.
“Since it hasn’t been seen by your astronomers, the comet hasn’t been given a designation, but your people would call it a centaur, a massive asteroid with comet-like features.”
“Then what do you call it?”
“Nex-88.”
“When will it get here?”
“Space is vast, and the comet’s speed is slow, but the estimate is roughly two years.”
Two years, only twenty-four short months. And her life would end. No, not just her own existence, her entire world was finished.
“And you’ve come to help us?” That had to be his mission.
Faro hung his head. “I’m not your savior, Amy, and nothing can stop the comet.”
She stood, backing away from him, shaking her head.
“You traveled here in a freaking spaceship, for pity’s sake. Surely, you have the technology to stop this.” And then Amy remembered the old movie she’d watched as a kid, Armageddon Day. “Or maybe we could do it ourselves. We could blow the comet into pieces, or redirect it. All you need is Bruce Willis and a nuke.”
“We don’t have the power to stop it, and neither do you. It’s too large to nudge with a spacecraft, and if it was blown up, chunks of it would still cause massive damage.”
“Then who does?”
“Perhaps the Maelstrome could intervene, but they won’t.”
“Why?” How could they stand back and let the Earth be destroyed, when they could intercede?
“The Maelstrome have vowed not to interfere with free will, and the Interstellar Parliament agrees.”
“What’s this Parliament?” Amy shivered.
“It’s a consortium of humanoid worlds which work together, much like your United Nations, only on a larger scale, and they’ve granted salvage rights to the Earth.”
“Salvage rights?”
“Yes, the Earth and all of her resources have been offered to interested parties.” Faro wouldn’t even look her in the eye, the coward.
“Like who? You?”
“Yes.” He bowed his head.
“So, that’s your mission.”
“Yes.” His tone was flat.
When she’d asked him about it, Faro had muddied the truth. Maybe she’d watched too much Star Trek as a child, but she expected aliens to work toward the greater good, to care about other beings. She’d often stared at the night sky, pondering what was up there.
Well, now she knew. A bunch of self-serving assholes.
“And just what are you getting out of the deal? Tell me.”
“Scandium. We need it to build an armada of ships.”
“So that’s what you’ve been mining.” Her throat ached.
“Amy, I’m so—”
“Stop.” Amy glowered. “Don’t you dare apologize to me.” And then it all started to make sense. “The Trovians asked for the animals.”
“Yes.” His shoulders fell.
“So, you’re gonna take what you want, and then stand back and watch us die?” Suddenly Amy wasn’t sad anymore, or fearful.
No, she was furious.
Faro took a step toward her, and she balled up a fist.
“Stay the hell away from me, and let’s do away with the euphuisms. You aren’t salvaging items, you’re looting.”
“This isn’t my decision, Amy, the Parliament made the determination.”
Rationally, Amy knew he was a soldier, and he’d come here to do a job, but she still felt betrayed. Faro should’ve told her this sooner.
“Isn’t that nice? Everyone got together and decided for us, and we get no say in the matter.”
“The Parliament forbids engagement with Tertiary planets, so they didn’t consult you.”
“What the crap does Tertiary mean?” Amy didn’t give a damn about bullshit interplanetary politics, but she had to know their justification.
“The Parliament has been watching this planet, but you haven’t developed your space program enough yet.”
“What do you mean?”
“You haven’t established colonies on other planets, or left your own solar system with a manned flight.”
“And now we never will.” Amy sighed. “Well, I guess you were right.”
“About what?”
“This does remind me of the United Nations. All of you are industrialized, Western wealthy countries, and we’re a developing nation who’s in trouble, but nobody will help us because we don’t have any influence.” She felt dizzy, light-headed, and so angry she couldn’t think straight.
His nostrils flared. “I care about you and this planet.”
“Yeah, I bet.”
“I should’ve told you sooner, but I made a vow.”
“And what does all of this say about you? Or how you feel about me?” Amy felt as though he’s used her. Did he view her as some kind of entertainment?
“Amy, please listen to me. I—”
“Nothing you can say will make this any better.” She felt used, betrayed. “Stay away from me, Faro.” Amy had enough, she couldn’t take any more of his excuses or lies. “I want you to leave. Now.”
“Wait, let’s talk about this.”
“Why? What’s the point? Besides, I thought contact with Tertiary humans was off-limits.”
After Faro left, Amy collapsed on the bed.
***
“We need to talk.”
Before Faro could reply, Mydon took off down the hallway, expecting Faro to follow him, and since he’d used his power, Faro had no choice but to obey.
He’d just left Amy’s bedroom, and he was devastated. Faro hadn’t handled the revelation well. He should’ve built up to it, told her about Iradia’s problems in more detail, perhaps shown her his Drake form first. And he didn’t know if she’d give him yet another chance to redeem himself. The last thing he wanted to deal with was Mydon’s self-righteous anger.
Mydon flung open the door, and it slammed against the wall.
Faro had an inkling what the meeting was about. He’d violated the rules and put their mission in jeopardy, to save Amy.
And he’d do it again, without hesitation.
“What’s my punishment?” Faro asked.
“You’re awfully cavalier about betraying your brothers and your species.” Mydon leaned against the wall, a sour expression on his face.
“How’d you find out?”
“Link inadvertently told me. When I give an order, I expect it to be followed.”
“Then perhaps you should’ve used your power.” Faro was spoiling for a fight, if only to take his mind off this torment.
“What if the Parliament discovers the security breach, and our salvage rights are terminated? They’re monitoring Earth’s transmissions.”
“She won’t tell anyone.” And no one would believe her until it was far too late.
“You know this for a fact? This planet’s officials could—”
“It won’t be an issue.” Faro had no doubts about Amy’s discretion.
“And what of Iradia? You’re risking millions of lives for one little earthly human.”
His jaw clenched. “She’s worth it.”
Amy mattered more to him than anyone else in the universe. Of course, he cared about his people, but the thought of losing her filled him with terror. At least, they had a plan in place for Iradia. He had no doubt the Knights would save the day.
Mydon’s lip curled in disgust. “You aren't even remorseful.”
“No, I’m not and I’d rather not discuss this at length. What is my sentence?” This wouldn’t be the first or the last time Mydon had held him accountable.
“I haven’t decided yet.” A muscle worked in his jaw. “You’re in love with her.” It was almost an accusation.
“Yes, and I believe Amy’s my mate.”
There, I’ve admitted it, at last. Although, he should’ve told Amy.
“The alchemists assured us—”
“They were certain of nothing, only that Drake DNA is unpredictable. None of us has fallen in love, so I’m the first. Who knows what else they missed?”
“I don’t believe you. You’d say anything to wriggle out of this predicament you’ve placed us in. As usual, I’ll be the one who cleans up your mess, starting with the girl. I’m sorry, brother, but you leave me no choice.”
“No, don’t.” Faro clapped his hands over his ears. “Please, Mydon, I’ll do anything.”
“Silence. Put your arms at your sides.”
Faro complied immediately.
“You’ll end this foolish relationship, first thing in the morning. After you tell the innkeeper, I’ll forbid her from breathing a word of this, and then we’ll pray no one from Parliament learns of this debacle.”
“Mydon, I beg you, don’t do this to me.”
“You leave me no choice, Faro. Now stop this ridiculous display, and listen to me. I’ll tell you exactly what to say.”
***
The world’s ending.
At this very moment, a comet hurtled toward Earth, and it would destroy all life as Amy knew it. They couldn’t do a damn thing to stop it.
And yet, Amy felt numb.
No matter how many times she tried to wrap her head around it, the news didn’t quite sink in. The enormity of it all overwhelmed her. Part of her was convinced this was some sort of nightmare, and she’d wake up any moment.
And yet, Amy knew it was the awful truth.
Hours had passed since Faro had confessed, and the inn was eerily silent. Amy walked the hallways, filled with restless energy.
It wasn’t fair.
Amy wished she didn’t know. She didn’t want to carry this burden by herself, and yet, she couldn’t tell anyone else, either. First of all, no one would believe her, and second, Amy wouldn’t wish this terrible knowledge on her worst enemy. Besides, they’d find out soon enough, and then the panic would begin.
Nex was coming for them all.
Amy had spent hours Googling information, but hadn’t come up with anything useful. An asteroid or comet had hit the Earth a very long time ago, and it hadn’t worked out so well for the planet. Like the dinosaurs, they were sitting ducks.
Wait a minute. Dinosaurs! Lucy would have some answers. If she’d been thinking clearly, Amy would’ve come to the conclusion sooner.
Amy knocked on her door, but there was no reply. So she dashed down the stairs, hoping Lucy hadn’t gone to bed yet, and found her in the living room, curled up in a chair with a notebook on her lap.
Yes!
Amy needed the facts, and Lucy would be the best possible source.
“Hey, have you got a second?” Amy sat in the chair across from her.
“Sure, I’ve been outlining my new book, but I need a break. What’s on your mind?”
For a moment, Amy wished she could blurt out everything, but she steeled herself. Lucy would think she’d gone off the deep end. And if she believes me, I’ll ruin what’s left of her life.
So, Amy needed to keep this discussion hypothetical. She took several deep breaths, in and out, until her heartbeat slowed down.
“Are you okay?” Lucy asked, with a frown.
Amy nodded, although she was anything but okay.
“I was wondering about the assignment you gave your students a few weeks back, about the dinosaurs. Maybe you could answer a couple of questions for me.”
Lucy sat her notebook aside. “Absolutely. Fire away.”
“So an asteroid or a comet killed the dinosaurs?” Amy asked. From what she’d read, not all scientists were convinced.
”At first, it seemed far-fetched, but now a lot of people think that’s what happened.” She pulled her legs to her chest, getting comfortable on the chair.
“And it’s what you believe?”
She nodded. “Barring any other scientific evidence, it’s the most likely scenario.”
Fan-freaking-tastic.
“Just out of curiosity, what happened to the dinosaurs? I know they went extinct, but what was it like for them?” She gulped. “Right after the comet or asteroid hit?”
Lucy thought about it a moment. “The impact would’ve been devastating. The celestial body would’ve caused an earthquake, followed by tsunamis. A super-heated cloud would’ve spread out from ground zero, and then circled the planet. The sky would’ve been set ablaze, the oceans would’ve boiled, and many animals burned to death directly after.
Amy felt sick. She braced herself for the rest of the story.
“And then, it would’ve gotten worse.”
“Worse?”
“Yes, any creatures who survived starved to death. The debris cloud blocked the sun’s rays, and then the remaining vegetation withered, which affected the herbivores. They’d starve without access to food. The carnivores lasted a bit longer, since they could eat the dying herbivores, but eventually, they died, too. It’s a terrible way to go.” Lucy said this matter-of-factly, with the cool precision of a scientist.
Amy started to shake. She couldn’t help herself. Horrifying images filled her mind, people being incinerated, famines, natural disasters, children crying out in pain.
I can’t handle this. It’s too much. Why did he have to tell me?
“Amy, you’re obviously not doing well. What’s going on?”
“I’m fine, I’ve just had a long day.” Amy stood and her knees nearly buckled. She grasped the back of the chair for support.
“Are you sure? Do you wanna talk?”
“No, I should get some sleep. Thanks for the information, Lucy.” She stumbled toward the doorway. Her legs felt heavy, as though they were weighed down with sandbags.
“Amy?”
“Yes?”
“I know it’s upsetting, but they died a long time ago. It’s all just history.”
Yes, and soon, history would be repeating itself.