“More bullshit. You might have to. Not me.” He glanced at the door again and back to her. “You should really think about leaving.”
For a brief moment, she considered the idea, but where would she go? And besides, she didn’t want to disappoint Dr. Yang. “I can’t. But you could stay. For a little while longer? I don’t like being alone.”
He shook his head, then took a step closer. “I’ve never met anyone like you. And I’ve met a hell of a lot of people.”
She hadn’t realized how big he was until he was right in front of her, looking down. She peered up at him, mesmerized by his eyes. Reaching out, he rested his hand against her shoulder, and heat seeped through her clothes and into her skin, warmth singing through her body. She swayed toward him, her lashes fluttering closed—
Then something buzzed.
What? Her eyes blinked open.
The noise was coming from the machine on his wrist. He glanced down, then stepped back, his hand falling to his side. He looked at her and turned away, spoke quietly into the machine and then listened. When he turned back, she knew he was leaving. His expression was rueful.
“I have to go.”
“I know.”
“Look, just…” He ran a hand through his short hair and frowned. “Just don’t believe everything you’re told.”
“Why not?”
He gave an exaggerated sigh. “Because people lie. All the time. To get what they want. I doubt your Dr. Yang is any different. You should get out of here.”
“I can’t,” she said, even though she wanted to. She wanted to get out and stay out this time. But what she wanted didn’t matter. “I have my duty.”
He snorted and turned away, crossed to the door, but paused and glanced back at her. “Take care of yourself, Destiny.”
Then he was gone.
Chapter Eight
“We are always in a hurry to be happy… for when we have suffered a long time, we have great difficulty in believing in good fortune.”
—Alexandre Dumas, The Count of Monte Cristo
The door was pushed open from the outside and Destiny jerked upright.
“Why isn’t this door locked?” Dr. Yang’s sharp voice came from the corridor, and Destiny’s shoulders slumped.
Had she really thought Milo had come back? Why would he? He said he liked being alone. But then he probably hadn’t spent 95 percent of his life in his own company.
Dr. Yang was talking to someone on the other side of the door now, but Destiny couldn’t catch all the words—something about the lock being broken.
“Well, get it fixed,” Dr. Yang snapped. “Now.”
She hadn’t slept since Milo had left. Instead, she’d sat staring at the door, knowing it was unlocked and she could step outside at any time. The idea had made her almost light-headed. But as the hours trickled by, she hadn’t approached the door. Hadn’t walked out.
Was she a coward? No, it wasn’t fear that kept her inside.
How could she just walk away from her responsibilities? Whatever Milo had said, she wasn’t here because she was a prisoner. She was here because she had accepted her role in life. As they all had to do if humanity were to survive the changes and challenges facing them. And she was proud to be of service in whatever way she could. Not everyone got the chance.
All the same she was aware of her anger simmering close to the surface. Meeting Milo had made her yearn to experience life even more. What harm could it do? At least they could tell her.
Dr. Yang entered the room, her gaze going directly to Destiny.
She squirmed a little. She suspected she was feeling guilty. Up until now, she’d never really done anything to feel guilty about except maybe ask too many questions. Now she had a secret.
Should she tell Dr. Yang about her visitor? The urge to unburden her conscience lasted only a few seconds. Clearly, he hadn’t wanted to be found here last night, and she didn’t want to get him in trouble. Maybe he would come again.
So instead, she forced a smile. “Good morning.” If it even was morning. How was she to tell when she was stuck underground? She blew out her breath; she needed to relax, or Dr. Yang would notice something was wrong. Everything Destiny did was noted and recorded.
“Did you sleep well?”
“In my cell?” The words were out before she could think better of it, and she held her breath waiting for the rebuke.
Dr. Yang shot her a sharp look. “You’re being melodramatic, Destiny. It’s not a cell, just a safe place for you to stay.”
She opened her mouth to ask why she needed a safe place and then she went still. Another figure had entered the room behind Dr. Yang. A man.
He was big, as tall as Milo and broader at the shoulder. He wore a dark green jumpsuit, similar to the men Milo had been hiding from last night, and he had a pistol at his waist. She raised her gaze to his face. He wasn’t beautiful like Milo, but he was smiling. And, unlike most of Dr. Yang’s smiles, his was reflected in his eyes, which were warm and brown. His short hair was brown as well.
“Destiny, this is Silas Wynch. Silas has offered to walk with you for an hour a day so you can get some fresh air and see the new colony.”
She’d been staring at the man, and now she turned to Dr. Yang, a smile tugging at her lips. “I can go out?”
“Of course.” She sounded annoyed. “I told you—you’re not a prisoner. But you’re valuable to us and we care about you. Silas will look after you.”
She was going out. Even if it was just for an hour. She tightened her lips and held her face still; Dr. Yang didn’t like overt signs of emotion. But she was going out. Inside she was fizzing.
Maybe she would see Milo.
She shoved the thought aside. Her future did not include Milo. He’d made that more than clear. Pushing herself to her feet, she nodded to Silas.
“Hello, Mr. Wynch.”
“Call me Silas. And it’s a nice break to go for a walk with a pretty woman.” He held out his hand, and she looked at it for a moment and then stretched out her own slowly. It was engulfed in his bigger one and he shook it vigorously.
She liked Silas. She didn’t feel the same giddy sense of excitement Milo induced in her, but that was probably just as well. She was sure Dr. Yang wouldn’t appreciate giddiness.
“Can we go now?” she asked.
Silas shrugged. “Why not?”
“I will be accompanying you today,” Dr. Yang said.
Destiny was almost sorry about that. She sensed that Silas would be far easier to talk to if he were alone. She would certainly find asking questions easier without Dr. Yang’s disapproving presence—and she had so many questions she wanted to ask. But maybe tomorrow they would be alone.