III

She was dreaming again.

In her vision, she rode out on a white steed, decked in silver armor, and accosted a giant scorpion. Each time she tried to skewer it with her sword, it lashed its tail at her and pierced her side. Eventually, she fell from her horse, defeated and poisoned.

She lay on the ground, in a very real pain, when she saw a man dressed in white approach her from far away. When he drew nearer, she recognized him as Wu Fei. He held a small container of clear liquid, and this grew in size until it became a crystal phial. When he poured it on her, it revived her.

“Do you see what trying to save me does?” he asked, irked.

“But you can’t save yourself,” she explained, patiently.

“That’s because I’m too busy keeping up with you, woman.”

But she only smiled sweetly. “Only by forcing you to think of me will you ever save yourself.”

When she left the dream the words exchanged between them faded into mist, but the reminder of the container of serum stayed with her. She rose groggily in the dark, finding a blanket across her lap. She wrapped this around her and looked about. Beneath, the sounds of Wu Fei working rang steadily. She tiptoed to the hatch and opened it. It was a clear, cold night.

He heard her and turned around, only briefly, then continued what he was doing. She stepped down carefully, landing in the sand with a soft thud. She came over to him and held out her hand to offer him another blanket.

“It’s cold out.”

He took it without speaking.

She sat down next to him, burrowing a little into the sand.

“Feeling better?” he asked, without taking his eyes off his work.

“Mm. How long did I sleep?”

“Five or six hours.”

For a while, there nothing but the steady clang of Wu Fei’s hammer.

Sally shivered a little and adjusted her blanket. She wanted to say something, but nothing seemed suitable.

“I guess I owe you,” she said quietly.

“What do you mean?” He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand and picked at a wayward screw.

“I would be seriously ill if you hadn’t brought the serum back.”

For a while, he was silent. Then, he settled and looked at her. “Why would that make you owe me?”

She bit her lip to keep it from trembling. Why was he so difficult? “Because,” she said slowly, as if speaking to a small child, “I might have died.”

He shrugged. “You might have died lots of times. That’s never indebted you to me before.”

Perhaps it was her weakened state or the cold night air, but Sally just didn’t have the patience for his indifference. She felt the prick of tears behind her eyes. She sighed deeply, trying to smooth her trembling voice. “I’m just trying to thank you,” she said, rather hopelessly. She got up then, preparing to hide herself on the other side of the machine, so she could cry in peace.

But she’d hardly moved before a sharp tug on her blanket brought down hard. He looked her over hard, disapproval sharpening his features.

She let him peer, trying to be brave.

“What’s the matter with you?” he said, almost casually, as though this was the most normal of conversations. “Why did you shoot that scorpion, when you saw it coming near me in the sand?”

She pressed her eyebrows together in confusion. “Well, I – I just did. I thought it would hurt you.”

He looked at her thoughtfully.

She threw out her hands in dismay. “God, Wu Fei, do I need a reason to protect you?”

But he reached out and grasped either hand and lowered hear arms as he spoke. She couldn’t understand. He said it almost humorously. “No. And I don’t suppose you’d take it well if I said I owe you, either?”

She was amazed. The more she thought about it, the better she saw his point. When it came to the very bottom of it, protecting him was not a choice – she did not weigh the consequences of her actions, nor make a mental list of pros and cons. It was not even a decision. It was –

“As natural as breathing air.”

She lost a heartbeat.

She guessed he hadn’t realized he’d read her mind right then because he dusted off his tools, and wrapped up the parts in the white sheet, so to keep them clean, as if nothing in the world had happened.