Might be an old relayer stuck on endless repeat and everyone’s
dead, I just don’t know.” He takes a deep breath, lets it out
slowly, and the rush fills my ears, I can almost feel it warm on my
neck, my cheeks, my skin. “That’s the situation. What do you
think?”
What isthere to think? “The computer
translated the code?” I ask, trying to ignore the steady sound of
his breathing in my ears. “It’s not alien?”
“Morse,” he says wryly. “Four hundred
million miles away from home and there’s Morse code out in them
there stars, babe.”
Babe.I sigh at the term of
endearment and hate myself when I whisper, “Dylan, don’t.”
“Sorry,” he mutters, but I can tell
he’s not, not really. How am I supposed to get over him when he
calls me stuff like that? When he makes it sound like he’s not yet
over me? Then why are we apart again?I wonder. Oh yes,
his mission. He didn’t want me sitting here wasting away, waiting
for him to return. How could I forget?When I don’t answer