Chapter Nine

Juan and Marcus nod at us as I follow Araceli out to her vehicle. I check the windows, then successfully enter my side of the car, certain I'm blending in already.

"Why do you keep doing that?" Araceli asks, annoyance obvious in her voice as I sit beside her.

"Do what?" I ask, confused.

"Put your face to the glass every time you enter the car. It's weird."

"I was checking for predators that may have entered since we last occupied the vehicle."

She looks doubtful. "But I locked it. Nothing can enter the car while it's locked."

"Nothing on Earth can get into your car while it is locked. In other places, on other planets, metal would not stop a creature from entering your vehicle in your absence and waiting for you to return."

"You've seen creatures like that?" She tilts her head as she did yesterday, but her face is not scrunched up, so I proceed as she opens a large plastic container and sets the contents out between us.

"I have. I was a soldier. During the very last mission I led, my team was assigned to a planet that had such creatures. I don't think the name would translate in your language. The closest would probably be phantom or ghost, perhaps? They are not dead, but they are not limited to physical barriers."

"They can move through metal?"

I nod. "They can move through any substance they choose to. They are always hungry. We had been on the planet for many months constantly in battles with other species for this planet. My team had just stepped out of our vehicle when we were called to another location to aid a second team who was being attacked."

Her eyes are watching me intently, but suddenly I cannot stand the scrutiny. I break eye contact and look at the bands on my hand. This was the wrong story to share, but if she is to be my mate, she should know the truth of my exile.

"We were out of the vehicle only moments, but still, I should have checked it again. I should have–"

She stops arranging the food and sits still, in silence, waiting for me to finish. I take a deep breath.

"I was the last soldier in… but the team leader is always supposed to be first." I close my eyes at the memory. "I was last to reach the vehicle that day and–" It is hard to speak the words that describe what came next. Araceli quietly reaches out and takes my banded hand in hers.

"The creatures consumed them before my eyes. This mission is my penance."

Her hand stiffens, but she doesn't let go. "Your penance? How exactly is it your penance?"

"My family would have had to join me on a prison planet. I offered to sacrifice myself instead."

"Sacrifice yourself?"

"Our leaders are constantly searching for new planets that can sustain life. The galaxy is full of countless planets but it's dangerous and expensive to send an entire ship to look for habitable ones. They send out manned pods instead. There is a lot that can go wrong. The pod could get hit by debris and be destroyed or simply go off course. If it even makes it to a planet, the pod could land on an inhospitable planet or get taken by an enemy."

"So this was essentially a suicide mission? Does this happen to all prisoners back home?"

I shake my head. "No, most explorers are paid large amounts to go. Most of the time, they are lost, and the money goes to their family. People in serious debt will often volunteer."

She lets out a long breath."So if your pod had landed on Jupiter or Mercury or even Mars, what would have happened?"

"I would never have returned home. I would have died. The pod is designed to withstand extreme temperatures, but eventually, I would have run out of food and water."

Her grip grows tighter on my hand. "So there's no rescue mission, no way to change course or direction if you get knocked off course? You're just shot out into space and if something goes wrong and you don't make it to your destination, oh well?"

I nod.

"But what's the deal with five days?"

I run my thumb across her matching pale bands. "I left the pod. My departure has already been communicated to them. They are aware I was able to leave on my own power. If I do not communicate with them within five days, I will not be able to return home. They will assume that I have perished and that this planet is not hospitable."

"And if you do respond in five days?" Her large dark eyes meet mine.

"An army of ships will come to prepare your people for relocation."