I, Cassandra

71 | AMADI EZENWA

I'm a total bastard. Cassandra deserves to know I met Ryan. That he's out there, probably still alive, or whatever it is that he is, believing she's dead. But I can't. He called me a selfish fuck. And he's right. I want her for myself. If I tell her the truth, she'll go looking for him and won't last three months. I can't let that happen. Even thinking about being alone again makes me suicidal. No. Not that. Not again.

I don't think too much about the possibility we might cross paths with Ryan. The odds are slim, plus I doubt he will come back here, to Alpha VII, or if he were going to look for Cassandra here, he would have done it by now. No. He's long gone. His search for Cassandra will be over by now. It's been more than two months since I last saw him. He'll have given up. He's probably gone back into hibernation for the next several thousand years.

I did the right thing. I'm a man, made of flesh and blood who has to think of survival. Ryan is a machine who knows nothing about using vines as materials, or nests, or sap, or beetles. He's pointless. In a place like this, she needs me, not him.

Still. I am a bastard.

Cassandra shifts in her sleep and nestles closer to me with a soft sigh. She trusts me, though I have stolen this trust from her, not earned it. It's the middle of the night, but I can't sleep. Call it guilt, but it hit me yesterday and I can't shake it. It was what she said about things always fucking up, and it felt like she was predicting something, like it was on the cards, that no matter what I do, I'm going to lose her.

I'm thinking about leaving the pod, like I left hers. Maybe in this place, the right thing to do is the wrong thing. Being selfish is all that matters. Whoever is in there could ruin everything. Another woman would be a nightmare. The jealousy would be terrible. It could be so bad one of them could kill the other. It needs to be a man. But then, what about me? Another man could become territorial, and I will have to deal with the whole alpha dog thing. No matter which way it goes, it's shit.

The easiest thing would be if whoever is in the pod doesn't make it, like Cassandra said. I ease myself free of Cassandra's lithe, hardened body and leave our shelter. In the low light of the Arctic summer night, I go to the pod. I'm an engineer. All I need to do is figure out how to shut it down, something I have never thought about before. When Cassandra wakes, whoever is inside will already be dead. She'll think it just happened. And then it will be over, the waiting, the worrying. The fear. Then it won't fuck up. We can head south while we still have five months left of light. We'll find a place by the sea, and if we're lucky there will be fish or maybe molluscs. Real protein. No more fucking beetles. I can't wait.

Apart from the slow bleat of its blue light, the panel gives away nothing of the pod's inner workings, or how to end the life of the person inside. There is a blank screen where I presume readouts would show when it's not conserving all its power to keep its passenger alive. I wonder at the longevity of its functioning. All I managed to get out of the technician as he prepped me for sleep is they are powered by minuscule neutrino reactors—cutting edge shit I'd only heard about in theory. Whatever they used, it works. And now its technology is lost, forever. I fall back onto my haunches and consider the pros and cons of forcing the lid open. Would it kill whoever is inside or would they survive?

Fuck it. I get up and run my hands along its seam, looking for a good purchase. If they are still alive. I'll just strangle them. They will be too weak to fight back. I want out of here. I want it to end.

The lid's metal is cold, but I tighten my hold and shove. Nothing. I throw my weight into it and push until my feet slide back in the cleared earth. Still nothing. Pissed off, I push harder. Now I have started, there's no going back. I'm already thinking of the coast, the fish, the life me and Cassandra will have on our terms. I'm doing the right thing. I'm doing this for—

'Once a murderer, always a murderer.'

I turn. Ryan Maddox stands a little way behind me, looking as fresh as he did the day we parted, still sporting the same three days' worth of stubble on his jaw. I don't know why I fixate on this detail, but I do. It annoys me how he is above all the suffering I have had to endure. He never feels hunger or thirst. Doesn't age. He's strong. And he is here for one thing. This is it, this is where it all fucks up just like Cassandra said. Only not for her. For me.

'Didn't decide to drown your sorrows in hibernation, then?' I snap.

He glances at the shelter. 'She in there?'

I nod. I won't be able to stop this. And even if I try, once Cassandra learns the truth, it will be all over. I lied. I fucked her. I violated her trust right to its core.

'Does she know,' Ryan asks, dangerous and quiet, 'that I am here?'

I don't answer, because by the way he's looking at me he knows the truth. I won't give him the satisfaction.

'You fuck her?'

'What do you think?'

'I think you did,' Ryan says. His eyes bore into mine, cold, promising pain. 'I think you lied, and lied, and lied, to get what you wanted.'

'You're a fucking machine,' I say. 'I'm human. I was protecting her. Us.'

'From what?'

'From extinction.'

The muscles in his jaw clench. 'You don't give a fuck about the human race. What you did at the barrier proved that. You only care about yourself.'

He turns and heads to the shelter. He's going to take her. I can't just stand here and let this happen. I can't be alone again. I can't.

'Wait.' I know I sound desperate, pathetic even, but I don't care. He stops but doesn't face me.

'What happens to her if you shut down, or break, or I don't know, stop functioning? She will be alone. Here. I know how to survive, you don't.'

He looks over his shoulder at me, hits me with the depth of his contempt. It makes me feel like a worm. 'It turns out none of these things can happen to me,' he says, 'I'm here for the long haul. You, however, will not be.'

He ducks into the shelter. All I can do is stand there, helpless. A coward. A murderer. Alone.