Page 8 of Last Chance to Save the World

I can see the white caps of the waves asGlorysoars over the Mediterranean before I hear his less-than-comforting response:

“You’re not the only one with backup plans.”

3

The landing strips are roughly fifty kilometers from the island. There are two—a large one for cruisers carrying tourists and rich people, and a much smaller one for locals with residency or transports carrying cargo for delivery. The large strip has passenger boarding bridges that go up to the cruisers, letting guests get off in an enclosed, air-conditioned tube that deposits them in a luxurious building at the end of the dock that connects directly to the ferry that transports people from the strips to Malta. Not a single drop of sunlight gets through either the bridge or the building, although they’re lined with vid screens displaying immaculate blue waves and clear skies at all times.

The residency strip doesn’t bother lying. When Rian and I step out onto the main dock, the sun beats down on us, and the stench of the gray water fills our nostrils.

“Ada Lamarr!” a voice calls down the strip. I whirl around.

“Bruna?”

A large woman strides toward me, wrapping me up in an enormous hug. “Where you been?” she says, the words so deep I can feel them vibrating from her chest to mine.

I push her back, laughing. “It’s been forever!” And then I glance at her uniform. “You’rethe port boss?”

She beams at me, then notices Rian hanging back awkwardly. “And who is this?”

Before I can say anything, Rian steps forward, hand out, and introduces himself. Bruna shakes it earnestly, then looks at me, eyebrows raised. “Lover?”

Rian gapes at her.

“No, but only because he’s an idiot,” I say.

“I am not!”

I give him a look that clearly says,We had aweek,and you didn’t make a single move.

“Okay, maybe I’m an idiot,” Rian grumbles.

Bruna laughs.

“We were in university together,” I tell Rian.

“But you didn’t graduate.” The words slip past his lips before he thinks to stop them, and I can tell that he didn’t mean to say it like that, like an insult.

It would sting, but that’s an old wound. The nerves are long dead.

Bruna slings an arm around my shoulders. “Not because she wasn’t smart enough! They should have given her the diploma.”

I shrug, and Bruna takes the hint, dropping her hold on me. Bruna knows why I gave up on higher education, because she was right there beside me until the end. And Rian knows because he snooped in my history. A bit of a criminal record following a spot of hacking and vandalism after her father’s untimely death due to climate sickness can throw a girl off track in her education and make the university withhold credits due to “unbefitting behavior for a student.” Turns out admin frowns on using the skills they teach you for anything fun.

“Anyway,” I say, desperate to change the subject. Maybe there is still a little pain left in that scar.

“Your mother pinged before you landed,” Bruna says.

Fuck.

Rian’s head snaps up at that. I know he knew about my father, but he definitely didn’t note much about my mother. And that was by extremely careful design.

Shut your gob, Bruna,I think.

Bruna does not, in fact, shut her gob. Instead, she says, “She told me to tell you to come straight by for a visit.”

Shit.

Shit, shit, triple shit.

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