Free The Indestructibles (Book 4): Like A Comet by Matthew Phillion

something."
          Jane sipped her coffee and leaned
against the railing, stealing a quick glance up at the sky. She wondered what
was in store for them. Emily ratted Billy out as soon as he left; now everyone
knew he was gone. And hadn't said goodbye. Probably for the best, Jane thought.
Perhaps saying goodbye is bad luck. The thought of him out there by himself in
the blackness of space made her heart hurt. She could do it, or someone like
Kate, but Billy couldn't stand being alone for dinner, never mind flying out
into the endless sky.
          "You've got something on your
mind," Broadstreet said.
          "I've always got something on
my mind," Jane said, shaking off her wandering thoughts.
          "Anyone ever tell you that
you worry too much?" he said.
          She gave him a hard, almost angry
look, and then shook her head.
          "Can I tell you the truth?
Sometimes I worry so much it physically hurts," Jane said. "I'm
practically impervious to harm, and I sit here freaking myself out until I'm
sick. Normal people don't do this, do they?"
          Broadstreet shrugged, then joined
her by leaning against the bridge's rail.
          "You'd be surprised at how
many people do," Broadstreet said. "We live in this big, beautiful,
amazing world, and every day all we do is obsess about every little thing. The
big picture should be a miracle and instead we're…"
          He waved a hand vaguely around,
gesturing toward the bustling streets of the City.
          "Instead we let all of this
bog us down," he said. "But who am I to judge. I almost got you
coffee with cream instead of milk and practically had a panic attack."
          "I still would have drank it,
you know," Jane said.
          "Exactly. See what I mean?
Why worry about something like that?"
          "Because you care," Jane
said.
          Broadstreet nodded, almost
embarrassed.
          "I'm not giving you a hard
time," Jane said. "I bet you're concerned if you're rude to a
stranger in traffic too."
          "Happened on the way here,"
he said.
          "I knew it." She studied
the young reporter's face, the way that beard he'd been trying to grow for
months now almost seemed to be filling in—he had a spot below his jaw line
where no hair would come though and it gave him an almost comedic patchy look—and
then she reflected on the rumpled aesthetic of his clothes, the way he watched
everything around them. It's so unfortunate you keep asking me out,
Broadstreet, she thought; if you'd just be normal, we could be good friends, I
think.
          "So what is today's concern,
Solar," Broadstreet asked.
          "If there were ever a real
emergency, like something that might require people to evacuate calmly, and we
got wind of it early—what could you do to help?" 
          "Me? Like, the press?"
Broadstreet said.
          "The press, yeah. But
starting with you," Jane said.
          "You know something I should
know about now?"
          "Maybe," Jane said. "Yeah.
No. Wait. Off the record."
          "We're always off the record
until you tell me these days," he said. "My bosses would murder me
for saying that, but you know it."
          Jane looked over her shoulder. The
dark water of the river drifted by.
          "We're trying to prevent
something big," Jane said. "And if we can't…"
          Broadstreet's eyes went distant
for a moment, deep in thought. He let out a long, frustrated sigh.
          "This is where I betray my
profession," he said, resigned. "You want to know the truth?"
          "Of course."
          "You need to control your
message," he said. "You make the announcement. Distribute everything
you need us to know at the same time, to everyone, immediately. That big old
floating fortress of yours has to be able to broadcast a message in large-scale
way, yeah?"
          "I think so," Jane said.
          "Make sure the right people
know it's