I peer down.

I try to walk.

It works.

I try to run.

It works.

To jump.

It works—

“Well.” Maxwell yawns, stretching his arms, he walks over to Vihkir and me. “I’m going to sleep some more now that you’re done with your thing.”

Turning to Vihkir, he smirks. “Guess scorpion-man isn’t useless after all.” Maxwell’s glance quickly shifts to me. He tilts his head to get a better look at my new leg. “Heh.” With a chuckle, and a closed fist, he knocks on it twice. “Tin-Man.” Casually walking out of the tech room, another snicker leaves Maxwell’s lips as his shadow soon disappears.

My attention immediately snaps to Vihkir. “It works,” I say, eyes wide, incapable of wiping a grin from my face. “It works,” I echo once more, unable to believe it no matter how many times I speak or think the words.

Vihkir wipes his brow. He drops his tools onto a table where oil and spare parts lie scattered across its steel. “I know,” he says. “I made it. Of course it does.” Crossing his arms, he leans against his left leg to observe me better, and squints. “It is a bit noisy though…”

“Are you kidding?” I say. “Look! It works!” Jumping up, down, I bend my knees again to prove my point. “It works! It works, and it’s perfect, and—"

Vihkir presses a finger to my mouth. “I know,” he tells me again. “I know it works. And I’m glad at least you appreciate the effort.” His smile has gone soft, just like his glare, not as intense as it used to be under the single light serving as a spotlight to our figures.

I tilt my head. “Who wouldn’t?”

He pauses, before finally saying, “Idiots. Or, people that would rather not have something alien linked to their brains,” he mutters. “But more importantly, Vance—"

I purse my lips and straighten up.

Vihkir refuses to break eye contact.

“Y-yes?” I finally say.

“Are you ready to save your friend?”

“Now?”

He nods. “Your leader seems to think it appropriate.”

“He’s not our leader, he’s just…”

“Just?”

“My brother, at least.” I avert my eyes and glance to the abandoned opal blankets that hang off a nearby bench. “To me he is,” I say.

Vihkir retains a rare and perfect silence.

I bite my lip. “Hey, is it true?” I ask him after a moment. “Can we really save Luenos? Or were you just saying that so we wouldn’t kick you out?”

He seems taken aback by my question. And although he doesn’t wear the face of a liar, it is, however, the expression of someone who hadn’t expected the question in the first place. “No, of course not,” Vihkir says. “We can save him.”

“Then…” I rest my hand against my elbow and look to the side. “Why…did you only ask for a single day? Do you not need sleep? Or is there something else behind it? The fact that you would rush something so quickly is—"

“Do you really want to know?” he asks me. “It might change your perspective. It might make you lose balance. And losing balance could mean failing the mission. Failing…to save him.”

I take a step forward and look straight into his eyes. “I won’t,” I say. “I won’t lose balance. Not when he needs me.”

Vihkir’s fingers trail along the table’s steel. As he stops inches before my face, his breaths ghost against my skin. “Very well, then,” he says with lidded eyes, and a look of pity running through them. “We can save him. But we don’t have a month.”

A chill runs through my veins. My heart drops. “What you mean?” I ask, hearing my own voice break. “How long do we have left?”

Please.

No.

I can’t lose anyone else on this trip.

“Three days,” Vihkir tells me. “Three days, and then I can’t promise you how permanent some damage might or might not be.” He turns toward the exit, his back now facing mine. “So come on, Vance.”

Vihkir walks into the light of the vast hallway. “Grab your gear. We’re going out,” he says.

I roll my shoulders back. Taking a step forward, I follow him out and say, “Of course. I’ll be right there.”