Caedmon squeezed the scorpion sculpture in his hand. It was eerily cold. It felt as if it had a soul and was watching him, judging what he was doing. The boat trip to this isolated and icy island was long. Afton had mentioned the Earth time, but he hadn’t paid much attention, so he couldn’t remember. Everything around him was white and cold. He had no intention of ever coming back here, so there was no point in placing markers to trace or trying to remember anything. It was a memory he didn’t want to keep.
The fate of Earth was in his hands. It was supposed to be a no-brainer. He would take the key, plug the astronomical hole, and be out of here in a heartbeat. But first, he had to lock the sculpture into the power lock for the tribe leadership contest—otherwise, the key wouldn’t reveal i
