Comets and Corsets

by Anthea Sharp

  Either that, or Liza was abetting an enormous plague of rats.

  She frowned—but there hadn’t been any evidence of rodents. Nothing pointed to an illicit animal presence aboard the Sky Palace II except the paw prints in the bathroom.

  Earlier, as she cleaned around the sink, she’d paid careful attention. There were prints on the faucet handles, and on the flush knob of the commode. This was no ordinary house cat. Then again, ladies of Quality would never settle for an unmodified pet.

  Though it was strictly forbidden in humans, gene-spliced animals were all the rage among the upper class. Liza herself had never owned a specialty pet, finding the idea distasteful, but many young ladies of her former acquaintance loved to show off their pink, winged mice, or bright blue lapdogs. No one else could afford such things, of course. The lower classes had to content themselves with normal, unmodded cats and dogs.

  Liza gave the armoire one last swipe with her cloth, glancing down to make sure the biscuit wasn’t visible.

  “Come help me with this dratted coverlet,” Jenny said, tugging at the heavily embroidered bed covering.

  Then her eyes went toward something above Liza, and she let out a shriek.

  “What it is it?” Liza whirled and tried to follow the other maid’s gaze.

  “Up there!” Jenny pointed to the top of the tall armoire. “Devil eyes, looking at me.”

  Suppressing a shiver, Liza hurried to Jenny’s side and peered into the shadowy gap between the piece of furniture and the ceiling.

  “Nothing’s there,” she said, though there was, in fact, plenty of room for a small animal to hide in those shadows. Or a devilish ghost…

  Nonsense. She was letting Jenny’s superstition rub off on her, when there was a perfectly reasonable explanation. Yet, for some reason, Liza didn’t want to explain her escaped pet theory to the other maid. It felt like her own secret to keep. She had so little that belonged to her, now.

  “I’ll climb up and take a look, if you want,” Liza said.

  “What if it leaps out at you and steals your soul?” Jenny crossed herself. “I can’t stay in here. Oh, Liz, whatever shall we do?”

  “You go on to the next suite. I’ll finish up here and join you.”

  The other maid shot a longing look at the door, then turned back to Liza.

  “I can’t leave you alone with some evil spirit,” Jenny said, though her voice quavered.

  “I’m not afraid.” It was mostly true.

  “Here.” Jenny fumbled at her neck and drew out a heavy silver cross. “Wear this, for protection.”

  “Thank you.” Liza let the other girl drape it over her head. The metal was warm and, though she didn’t particularly believe in the effectiveness of religious items, she was touched by the gesture. “I won’t take long.”

  Jenny bit her lip. “If you don’t come out soon, I’ll be back for you.”

  “I’ll be perfectly fine. But leave me the feather duster.”

  The other maid nodded and held the cleaning tool out like it was a weapon. Liza took it. Despite her certainty that there wasn’t a demon hiding atop the armoire, she couldn’t help the little shiver of fear that went over her as the door closed behind the other maid with a solid thud.

  Gripping the feather duster a bit more tightly than was necessary, she finished up the dusting. She made the bed and plumped up the pillows, duster close to hand, but nothing stirred in the shadows near the ceiling.

  Well. She supposed she shouldn’t put things off any longer. Leaving the feather duster on the bedside table, Liza walked to the center of the room. She kept her hands relaxed at her sides and squinted at the top of the armoire.

  “You can come out,” she said, keeping her voice soft. Coaxing. “It’s safe. I won’t hurt you.”

  For a moment, nothing happened.

  Then the shadows moved and rustled. Liza swallowed back a jab of fear. What if there was some kind of devilish creature concealed up there?

  “Come now, kitten.” It must be a cat. Surely.

  Two sparks of purple flashed from the darkness, glowing uncannily. Liza took a step back, but didn’t cry out. Cat eyes could look rather demonic, under certain circumstances. It’s just the reflection off the chandelier, Liza told herself.

  “I left you a bit of food, underneath,” she said.

  The eyes blinked closed, then opened again. The shadow shifted.

  And then, with a shocking flurry of wings, the creature emerged and flew down from the top of the armoire. It made a delicate landing in the center of the Turkish carpet, only a few steps from where she stood.

  “Oh, heavens,” Liza breathed.

  It was a cat, the color of smoke from head to toe. Its wings were the same velvety hue, though they were covered with feathers, not fur. No wonder it had been able to hide so well, being nearly the color of the shadows itself. All except those luminous amethyst eyes regarding her cautiously from a pointed feline face.

  Liza knelt and held out one hand, noting with dismay the animal’s thin, bony back and concave sides. The poor thing was nearly starved to death.

  “How long have you been hiding?” she asked quietly.

  There was no response, of course, except for a cool nose briefly touching the back of her knuckles. Then, wings folded tightly against its back, the cat darted under the armoire, once again nearly invisible. The sound of chewing was unmistakable—it had found the biscuit.

  Liza could not linger any more. No doubt Jenny would be nearly beside herself with fear. Careful not to make any sudden movements, Liza rose and retrieved the feather duster. She gave the room a quick once-over, deciding it looked tidy enough to pass muster.

  “I’ll be back tomorrow,” she said to the creature under the armoire.

  Then, carefully, she left Suite Four to its hidden inhabitant and went to reassure Jenny that she had not, in fact, been possessed by demons.

  * * *

  “Attention, all passengers.” The announcement pinged discreetly through the corridors and staterooms of the Star Palace II. “Approaching Turmeric Central. Deceleration engaged. Prepare to dock precisely at a quarter past ten.”

  As with all ships of the Empire, keeping to a precise timetable was of the utmost importance.

  Returning from breakfast, Liza donned her white mob cap and glanced at the clock display projected on the wall. The staterooms would be empty soon, as the passengers disembarked. She’d fulfill the last of her duties and then jump ship—but what had seemed a fairly straightforward escape was now rather complicated by her discovery of the cat.

  Certainly she couldn’t just leave the creature hiding in the shadows of Suite Four, starving to death. She supposed she could turn it in to the ship’s purser, but it was doubtful the cat would ever be returned to its original owner. The fines for transporting pets were very severe. The cat’s owner wouldn’t have reported the loss, and they wouldn’t step up to claim the animal, either. It had likely been replaced the moment the passengers returned to Earth.

  Besides, Liza couldn’t afford to draw attention to herself. The maid who discovered an illicit creature hiding in one of the suites would be remembered.

  So would the person caught smuggling said animal off the ship, the sensible part of her brain reminded her.

  Liza ignored it. When had being sensible ever worked out for her? She and the cat could be fugitives together. The thought held a certain crooked charm—no matter the logistical nightmare she’d now set for herself.

  Transporting the cat in her valise wouldn’t do, even if the animal consented to be closed in. Luggage was scanned as it came off or on any ship, and a life form inside would be instantly flagged.

  The door whooshed open as Liza was pondering her options, admitting Jenny and her stream of chatter. So much for a bit of peace to work things out.

  “Jenny,” Liza said, “I need your help. Can you keep a secret?”

  Eyes wide, the other maid plopped down on her bunk. “Of course I can.”


  Privately, Liza doubted it—but the story she’d come up with would buy her time enough to disappear into Turmeric Central’s major city of Wali.

  “I’m leaving the Star Palace II,” Liza said, leaning forward and speaking in a low voice. “Strictly confidential. But the man I love is on Turmeric Central, and I’ve run away to be with him.”

  “Ooh!” Jenny squeezed her hands together and brought them up under her chin. “I knew it! I knew you were more than a maid—anyone who talks like you must be upper crust. Tell me all about him. Ah, it’s so romantic.”

  Sitting beside her, Liza spun a tale of feuding families and forbidden love that had no basis in reality. Jenny, however, listened raptly, her eyes shining. When Liza finished, the other girl took her hand and squeezed it gently.

  “I’ll do whatever I can to help,” she said. “Maybe someday I’ll find true love, too.”

  With effort, Liza kept her smile from slipping. True love only brings pain, she wanted to tell the girl. The universe cares nothing for human emotion.

  “Once I’m gone, you’ll need to inform the Head Housekeeper,” she said, instead. “I don’t want you having to do our rooms by yourself.”

  “I won’t mind. Jillaca can help me.”

  “Even with Suite Four?” Liza asked.

  Jenny let out a worried breath, but after a moment her smile returned. “Even then. Maybe the strength of your true love banished the demon ghost. You didn’t see anything when you were there alone, aye?”

  “Nothing at all,” Liza lied. “I’ll clean the suite again by myself today, just in case. But I suspect you’re right, and whatever was haunting that stateroom is gone.”

  Or would be, as soon as Liza managed to smuggle it off the ship.

  “When will you go meet your fellow?” Jenny asked, her eyes shining. “I’m sure you can’t wait.”

  “I have to,” Liza said, “though it pains my heart. I’m planning to leave the ship after we finish our shift this afternoon.”

  The Star Palace II would be docked on Turmeric Central for fourteen hours; enough time for the upper class passengers to take a jaunt about the exotic marketplaces, play polo, visit the baths, and attend one of the balls held nightly in the Grand Taj. The schedule also allowed for the servants to spend some time on-planet, once they’d finished their work.

  Promptly at midnight, however, the ship would depart, leaving Liza and the cat behind, like an abandoned princess whose coach had turned into a pumpkin. Which was perfectly fine with her—she preferred pumpkins to starships, and had no intention of being a princess ever again. Her Royal Highness Elizabeth Calloway von Saxe-Roth was gone forever.

  “I’ll go with you to meet him,” Jenny said. “I imagine he’s very handsome.”

  “Very.” Liza scrambled to find some excuse. “But our meeting must take place in the utmost secrecy. If my family finds out… I can’t put you in any danger.”

  Jenny looked so crestfallen that Liza patted her hand in comfort. “But you can come with me off the ship. I’ll need you take my ID back on and scan it so that nobody realizes I’m missing right away.”

  It was unfortunate, since the false identity had cost her so much, but she couldn’t see any other way.

  “I’ll do that, then.” Jenny’s smile was back in place. “I hear there’s wonderful food, too. I’m a mite tired of synthesized porridge.”

  “As am I.”

  The fresh food was reserved for the passengers, of course. The servants ate whatever the cafeteria dispensed, and learned to like it. Well, tolerate it. With every meal, Liza thought fondly of Eun-Jeong’s Galactic Bulgogi House. The week that had passed since she left the station seemed more like a month—especially when she faced the gray meatlike substance served at suppertime, along with a side of unidentifiable starch and boiled vegetables.

  A soft bump, barely perceptible, ran through the ship, and then another quiet chime rang through the comm system.

  “Landing complete. Passengers, prepare to meet your native guides in twenty minutes at the starboard hatch.”

  “I need to get ready,” Liza said, standing.

  Not that there was much for her to pack. She laid out a pair of bloomers to change into, along with her voluminous pelisse, then packed away the rest of her clothing. Her fingers brushed the edges of the holoframe concealed at the bottom of the valise. Selina’s portrait.

  Liza’s true love hadn’t been some handsome nobleman on Turmeric Central, but a smiling miner girl on an outer edge asteroid. She’d been killed six months ago in a senseless act of violence on the planet Doralfi that had left over a hundred families reeling and grief-stricken.

  Liza cleared her throat and blinked away the memories.

  “Just think,” Jenny said, “your last shift as a maid. Oh, I envy you. I dream of having my own bit of farm some day.”

  “That sounds lovely.” Liza met the other girl’s gaze. “Don’t give up on that dream. It’s what keeps us moving forward.”

  Selina might be gone, but their shared vision of the future remained.

  Even though sometimes it was hard to remember, the stars held boundless possibility as well as pain.

  Not to mention a winged cat that needed rescuing. Liza tied on her apron, then slipped two biscuits into the pocket when Jenny’s back was turned.

  “Let’s go,” Liza said, waving open the door of their little room. “Soonest begun, soonest done, as they say.”

  * * *

  Alone in Suite Four, Liza watched the gray cat devour the biscuit. It was a dainty little creature, even in its obvious hunger, licking up any stray crumbs and then grooming its whiskers when it had finished. The wings on its back rustled softly.

  “You need a name, kitten,” Liza said.

  At the sound of her voice, the cat looked up, regarding her with unblinking purple eyes. At least it wasn’t afraid of her, but Liza dreaded what was coming next.

  She knelt down by the cat and laid out the pillowcase she’d nicked from the vast ship’s linen closet. As the creature watched, she reached into the pillowcase and tucked the second biscuit into the back corner.

  “You’re going to have to trust me,” she said, holding the pillowcase open. “I can carry you out of here with the laundry, but after that, things are going to get complicated.”

  By all the bright stars, this was so risky—yet she had to try. She prayed that her solution for smuggling the cat off the ship was the same way the animal had been brought on board—the animal’s life signs concealed by the warmth and beat of a human heart. Hopefully, Liza wouldn’t bear claw marks for the rest of her life.

  The cat tilted its head, then stood and slowly walked forward. It sniffed Liza’s hand, then continued into the tent Liza had made. Fur the texture of spun silk brushed her hand, and she got a good look at its hindquarters as the cat went all the way into the pillowcase.

  “You’re a girl, then,” she said. “Sit tight, love.”

  Carefully she gathered up the case. The cat let out a barely audible purr, the needles of her claws lightly pricking Liza’s arm through the fine cotton. Step one, accomplished.

  Step two was a bit trickier, but as Jenny and Liza unloaded the dirty linens from their cart, Liza managed to tuck the cat, pillowcase and all, into her blouse. Luckily, the poor malnourished creature was quite small.

  She still made a suspicious lump, however, where she fetched up against the waistband of Liza’s skirt.

  “I’m not feeling well,” Liza said, arms cradled over her stomach. “Do you mind finishing up here, so I might go rest a moment?”

  Jenny shot her a sympathetic look. “Nerves, aye? You’ll see him soon, though, don’t worry!”

  With a forced smile, Liza nodded, then hurried back to their room. She removed the cat, who peeked out at her from the folds of the pillowcase, but thankfully made no move to bolt from its shelter.

  Quickly stripping off her maid’s uniform, Liza donned her bloomers, then picked up the bundle containi
ng the cat again.

  “Just a bit more,” she said, stroking it on the nose. “Then we’ll both be off this ship, for good.”

  It blinked at her and then yawned, showing sharp white teeth. Hoping it would be content to nap, Liza slid the cat into her blouse again, settling the creature against her ribcage. The edge of the cat’s wings poked her a bit, but there was no help for it.

  Sleep, she thought, giving the warm lump a pat.

  She was just pulling on her pelisse, thankful for the voluminous folds of the outer garment, when the door slid open and Jenny bounded in.

  “Aren’t you excited?” Jenny asked, stripping off her apron and cap. “Time for your adventure to begin!”

  * * *

  There were a few tense moments as they went through off-ship security. Liza held her breath as she and her stowaway crossed the scanner threshold, but no sensors started beeping. The bored-looking guard sat up when she placed her valise on the counter.

  “Running away?” he asked, and then laughed at his own joke.

  Liza had a story ready, however.

  “We’re going shopping,” she said, giving the man an innocent look. “And hopefully I can barter some of my old clothes. I promised my family I’d bring them home gifts from my travels. Where’s your favorite place to buy souvenirs?”

  “Anyplace is fine,” he said with a shrug. “Cheaper stuff the farther you get from port, of course.”

  “Aye.” Jenny nodded wisely.

  Then they were through, the shiny bulk of the Star Palace II behind them as they stepped into the warm, spice-scented streets of Wali. Liza slipped a hand under her pelisse and gave the furry bulge tucked into her blouse a gentle pat.

  “Where are you meeting your lover?” Jenny asked, glancing at the brightly-garbed crowd around them. “He’s not coming to the spaceport, is he?” She sounded ridiculously hopeful.

  “No—it’s too risky. Let me double-check the coordinates.” Liza flicked on her handheld and called up a map of the city. Pretending to search for a specific address, she picked a landmark that seemed a reasonable distance away. “I’m meeting him there, at the Lotus Gardens.”