Being on the move, with an actual destination in mind, seemed to lift his writer’s block. And it was good timing, since there was very little to do all the way to Beta 1426, with Gerard busy piloting and both of them committed to staying off the radar.

The elevator stopped, and we exited and made our way down the corridor to the bustling mess hall, to share another meal together.

He scribbled these words on his yellow writing pad, then dropped the pen, sat back with a sigh, and massaged his wrist.

Done. Another draft in the bag.

He pushed the desk chair back and straightened his body, wincing as his neck protested against being forced out of its hunched-over position. Then he ambled out of the Alacrity III’s tiny cabin and out into the common area, then into the cockpit, where Gerard sat, maneuvering the craft ahead.

Harry dropped into the copilot’s seat and rubbed his wrist again. “Another one done,” he announced.

“I look forward to getting you another contract.” Gerard grinned. “Based on where the last one left off, is it presumptuous to admit that this one features my esteemed person?”

“Barely.”

“Finally. It’s high time the star of the show came on stage.”

Harry laughed, but the laugh broke off too quickly. Gerard’s grin faded.

“Do you have an actual plan for when we get there?” his cousin asked.

“Obviously look first for any kinds of stations or habitable planets.”

“And if we find one?”

“Head there and… ask questions, I guess.”

Gerard tore his gaze from his readouts long enough to look at Harry and raise his eyebrows. “You really think that’s smart?”

“I really think I don’t have a better idea.”

Both of them stared ahead at the zooming stars.

“And you don’t think you should talk to your father?”

“I told you. He’s not…”

“I know, he doesn’t want to open up that door again. But Har, think about it. This doesn’t exactly seem safe. If anything happens to us, we’re just going to add mysteries about ourselves to the mysteries our beloved relatives already suffer.”

It was true. Harry could disappear from his father’s life without a trace, just as his mother had. It wasn’t fair to him. Much less fair than the wounds inflicted by bringing up the past.

“And you want to talk to your dad, I suppose.”

“But of course.”

Still staring at the stars, Harry nodded slowly. “Okay. But let’s wait until we’re almost there. When they can’t stop us.”

“Rebellious.” Gerard grinned again.

“You come by it much more honestly than I do.”

“Can’t argue with that.”

Silence fell between them.

“As your publisher,” Gerard spoke up, “I’m contractually obligated to hear this story of yours at some point, you know.”

“You’re asking me to read it to you?”

“Got nothing better to do.” He gestured towards the empty space ahead.

“That’s flattering.” Harry stood and stretched again. “I’ll go get it.”

He went back down the speeder to retrieve his manuscript. Hopefully it would provide them both enough distraction to keep from meditating on the question foremost in their minds.

What would their fathers say?