What?

Had he heard correctly? And he was all set to head out solo.

On his own.

Like always.

"What do you mean?" he asked, surprised that he didn't stammer.

Ruth turned and nodded at Jordan, who was holding on to the ramp railing for support.

"Now that I know my brother's going to be all right, I thought maybe I ... that you and I could-" She shrugged, but a single word echoed in Ivan's head.

Brother?

Ivan thought: I must be so dense.

Her voice faded away, and she ended with another shrug before saying, "That is, if you want me with you."

Even then, Ivan knew that it would take him a long time ... maybe the rest of his life ... to try to describe what her simple words meant to him at that moment.

Been alone for a long time.

Now-imagine not being alone.

He tried not to let his confusion show.

"Your brother? Jordan is your brother?"

Ruth bit down on her lower lip and nodded.

"Yeah. We've been distant. Same family, but so different."

"A gunner. And a Seeker. Different isn't quite the word."

"Right. But after all this I'm glad I got to see and know who he really is."

"You, too," Jordan said, managing a smile.

With that, Ruth strode down the ramp and came to a stop in front of Ivan, facing him.

She watched, amazed, as he raised his arms and took hold of both of her shoulders, now staring right into those blue-green eyes.

A man could get used to them, he thought.

Jordan interrupted. "Don't you think you'd better send out a message pod to Mom and Dad first?"

Ruth turned to her brother. "You're going back to Earth with Annie. You can tell them yourself."

Then she turned to Ivan again and said, "Well ... do you want me to come along?"

"What? Yeah. Of course I do."

"So-" Ruth said later that day after she'd packed, and they all said their farewells.

She settled into the seat of the small SRV Ivan had commandeered from the Runners and pulled the safety harness taut.

"Where are we off to first?"

Ivan smiled as he reached into his pocket and produced a small chip.

"Wait a second. Is that a chip?"

Ivan nodded.

"You don't mean-"

Ivan's smile widened.

"Sinjira's," he said. "A copy."

"From the cave? When Kyros displayed the Star Road map?"

Ivan nodded.

"She recorded the whole thing."

"And now ... now you have it all."

"As much as there was on the chip. A lot of Road to explore. Who knows what's out there?"

"But, won't you need-"

"The Road Operating System? Got that, too."

"Wait a second. You mean you have Nahara's data crystal? I thought it was illegal to..."

"It is," Ivan said. He was now smiling so hard it hurt as he shook his head. "It's a World Council felony. But I did manage to make a copy of it."

"You are ... something else."

"And now I-we-have a whole new map of Star Roads no one, no one human, anyway, has ever traveled."

She stared at him like she still wasn't sure about him.

"I figure," he said, "if you're gonna be an outlaw, you might as well really be an outlaw."

"So you're not fully reformed," Ruth said.

But then she broke into a smile ... and then she laughed.

"I can't believe it. I'm running away with an outlaw!"

"What good is a Star Road map if you're not going to use it, right?"

And by the expression on her face, he knew that Ruth was obviously just beginning to realize the possibilities, the infinite possibilities that lay out there ahead of them.

Soon, Omega Nine would be a distant memory.

And Ivan-for one-couldn't wait to see what happened next.

The portals ahead, the strange worlds, the civilizations-living and dead.

Who knew what lay ahead?

There was only one way to find out.

He took Ruth's hand.

It was time to leave.

Time to get back on the Star Road ... where the unknown was waiting for them.

AFTERWORD.

Normally, I imagine that an afterword to a novel written by two authors would also be written by the same two people. But that won't be the case here.

I first met Rick Hautala about twenty-five years ago when he called to say that he had read my second novel, really enjoyed it, and would be sending a blurb to my editor, Ginjer Buchanan at Berkley. We talked for a long time, the conversation flowing, the friendship-even by phone-suddenly "there."

Thus began the decades of calls and conversations we've had, often daily, about life, about writing, about the things we loved, about our struggles, and, amid all that somewhat serious stuff, about things that made us both laugh.

Sometimes we met, such as at the NEcon convention in Rhode Island, mecca for many horror writers, or when Rick would bring his then-young family to visit my wife, Ann, and me in Katonah, New York. Or when we had a big "writer's picnic" on my deck and Rick would be there, smile on his face, happy with a cold beer and a cigar.

Once he came to New York so we could visit some of our mutual editors, and taking the boy from Maine into the wilds of New York City was something to see. I might as well have taken him to Jurassic Park. The city wasn't for him.

We had never worked together. Until, almost improbably-considering its convoluted history-Star Road happened, and we contracted to write a SF epic for our editor, Brendan Deneen of Thomas Dunne Books. Old-school space opera, the type we grew up on, the type we had loved. And we set out not just writing it together; we had fun together, dodging space monsters and staging massive gun battles on the outer, unknown reaches of the amazing Star Road.

As you may guess, Rick is gone. Too early. Too soon. A shocking reminder that something can go wrong with your heart, and suddenly ... the laughs, the talks, the smiles, the beers all vanish. I'll never be the same, pretty sure about that. The phone ringing just doesn't feel the same.

But we have Star Road. Right here, in your hands. When two friends decided to head out to space together, and yes, with just the right amount of time to finish the trip ... they got there together.

-Matthew Costello.

ALSO BY MATTHEW COSTELLO.

Vacation.

Home Rage.

Island of the Skull Beneath Still Waters.

Unidentified.

Darkborn.

ALSO BY RICK HAUTALA.

The Demon's Wife.

Little Brothers Nightstone.

The Wildman Indian Summer.

Reunion.

ABOUT THE AUTHORS.

MATTHEW COSTELLO (left) is an award-winning novelist, screenwriter, and video-game writer. His previous novels include Vacation, its sequel, Home, and Unidentified. He lives in Katonah, New York.

RICK HAUTALA (right) has published more than thirty books, including the bestseller Nightstone. His short story collection Bedbugs was named one of the best horror books of 2003 by Amazon Books. He received a Lifetime Achievement Award from the Horror Writers' Association in 2012.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

THOMAS DUNNE BOOKS.

end.