His wristcomp signaled. Ordinarily, he’d ignore it, but he checked in case it was Pico. He hadn’t set up a distinctive signal for her local ping ref yet. He blinked in surprise when he saw the incoming ID. He apologized to Andra with a look and answered the ping via the earwire he’d almost forgotten he was wearing.
“Luka Foxe, what in the three moons of Albion Prime are you doing on Nila Marbela?”
Chapter 7
* Planet: Nila Marbela * GDAT 3241.145 *
The childcare playroom was more chaotic than usual when Pico arrived to meet Valenia. Even though it was a few minutes after six in the evening, when the center was supposed to close, half a dozen children, from ages five to twelve, were still there. Some days, it seemed the whole city was running late.
“Did the toy closet explode?” Pico nudged a small stuffed spaceship with the toe of her soft boot. Toys covered the floor and every available flat surface.
“No, a blended family gifted the center with a flitter-load of extra stuff. Méimuī didn’t come in today, because the construction dust bothers her, even though it’s the workers’ day off. Since it was just me, I asked the afternoon kids to help me evaluate what we should keep.”
Pico laughed. “Did they let you recycle anything?”
Valenia rolled her eyes. “Only if it was totally unfixable. Come on, help me clear a path.”
Pico hung her bag on a hook by the door and started in. “What’s your system?” One of Valenia’s many gifts was organization. Pico had a few gifts of her own, but that wasn’t one of them.
“By age-appropriateness and complexity.” She pointed to six containers and two cabinets that she’d labeled with large, colorful signs. Artistic talent was another of Valenia’s gifts.
As they picked up the toys, parents straggled in to collect their charges. For reasons known only to the Optimal Polytechnic administration, they’d placed the childcare center’s windowless suite of rooms in the new Math building, citing convenience, though whose, she wasn’t sure. Since it wasn’t interconnected like the rest of the buildings on the island floater, and its airpad was temporarily closed to non-construction traffic, parents had to make a special trip to get there, sometimes in the rain.
On the other hand, Pico conceded, math students didn’t often blow up things in their labs, like the chemistry students, or build combat robots, like the materials science students, so maybe the placement was a good choice. Since it was close to the public transport station, at least it made it easy for Pico to meet Valenia at the end of her shift so they could go home together to the flat they shared.
At twenty after six, only one child was left, a sunny-natured, six-year-old named Lyssi. Valenia enlisted her willing help in finding all the soft toys and putting them in the appropriate basket. Her harried mother came sweeping through ten minutes later, apologized for being late, and dragged her reluctant child out the door.
Pico wasn’t impressed. “What’s her malfunction?”
Valenia shrugged. “Breakup, I think. Lyssi likes it here better than at home right now.”
“Poor kid.” Pico remembered her own parents’ split, though she tried not to. “Poor mother, too.”
They spent another fifteen minutes before Valenia declared she was done for the evening, and the morning shift could finish what she’d started. “Not that they’ll do it, mind you,” she grumbled. “Three people, and they can barely get the kids cleaned up and fed lunch.”
Valenia often complained about the parents and the paid staff, but she put up with them because she adored children, and they adored her right back, even the older ones who didn’t think they should have to be in childcare when they weren’t in school.
She secured the desk and wall comps as Pico fished in her bag. “I brought the sparkly wrist lights for us to try.”
Because it was winter, the days were shorter, so it was already almost dark outside. It was a tricky balance, trying to keep Valenia from panicking in the dark, and being annoyed when her friends were obvious about accommodating her phobia. Pico was one of the few who knew there was a very good reason why the dark terrified her friend.
“The lights my sister sent? That’ll be fun.” She held out her wrists, and Pico snapped on the lights. On Valenia, they would no doubt look as if she’d chosen them specifically to complement her custom-designed tunic, pants, and accessories. With her tall, willowy figure and beautiful mocha skin, she could wear a recycle bag and look elegant.
Pico slung her bag over her shoulder and snapped the lights on her own wrists, then had to adjust them smaller so they wouldn’t fall off. The story of her life.
“Okay, out with it. What’s bothering you?” demanded Valenia. She turned off the lights and secured the door after it irised shut. Its light went out, signaling the center was closed. The wide and tall hallway was lit, so other people must still be in the wing.
Pico waved Valenia forward toward the main exit, but Valenia stood still with her hands on her hips and stared at Pico expectantly.
Pico sighed. She should have known Valenia would notice, when no one else would have. She really didn’t want to talk about it, but Valenia would nag her all evening otherwise. “Sojaire’s in town.”
“Here in town?”
Pico gave her a wry smile. “Unless there’s some other city named Tremplin on some other planet named Nila Marbela.”
Valenia started walking, and Pico joined her.
“He didn’t come to see you, did he?” Valenia’s tone was half sympathy and half outrage.
“Of course not. He’s traveling with his bosses.” Pico sternly suppressed another sigh. She’d spent far too many of them on Sojaire Celeyron, and all it had done was waste perfectly good oxygen. “We’re all invited to dinner with them at Dominar Carlotta’s.”
“Really? When?” Her eyes shone with excitement.
Pico waved a dismissive hand. “Tonight at eight.”
“What!?” Valenia squawked. “Why didn’t you say something when you came in?” She sped up, almost half running. “Move those short little legs, girl.”
Pico kept her sedate pace. “I’m not going.”
Valenia circled back to grab hold of Pico’s arm and pull her along. “Yes, you are, if only to say you’ve been to the restaurant in the sky, and you can’t go wearing that. You look like a sampan sailor from the history vids.”
“I’m not going.” She pulled out of Valenia’s grip and stood her ground. “My main reason for coming here, well, my second-to-main reason, was so I could get far away from Sojaire. My main reason was to go to school with my friend Valenia, who understands why her friend Pico doesn’t want to be in the same room as the boy who barely notices her most of the time.” She crossed her arms and stared determinedly at her good-hearted but sometimes oblivious friend.
Valenia blinked, then wrapped Pico in a brief hug. “I’m sorry.”
Mollified, Pico nodded, and they started walking again.
The hallway let out into the building’s large, round atrium. They angled left toward the main doors. The crates and stacks of panels leaning against one wall reminded her that the north wing’s third floor was finally getting finished. Rumor had it some wealthy family was getting naming rights for it.
“I wonder if the ‘interesting times’ curse will come visit while he’s here.” Valenia held up fingers to count. “There was space camp, of course, and that time in the finance center with the theft crew, the riot at the open market, and that warped woman who went berserk in Sojaire’s clinic when you were visiting. Oh, and that gunfight in the park where your dad’s company picnic was being held.”
Pico snorted. “That old ‘May you live in interesting times’ curse is nonsense. Etonver is the weapons capital of the Concordance. Gunfights and riots happen every day. If you count getting lost in a finance center as interesting, you need to get out more. Besides, we weren’t there by the time the crew arrived. Our autocab just got stuck in the traffic lockdown, like half of the city.”
Pico adjusted the bag so the strap slid across her body. “I’ve been with Sojaire lots of times when nothing happened.”
“That’s because he still thinks of you as a child.”
Valenia’s interpretation of “nothing happened” wasn’t what Pico had been thinking of, but it was the crux of the matter. She'd had a crush on Sojaire ever since she’d first met him at space camp three years ago. They’d saved each other’s lives, and discovered things about each other that no one else knew, but ever since, he’d treated her like a younger sister or a buddy, with no idea how she’d felt. She’d had a dalliance or two with boys her age in school, but they never lasted because they weren’t Sojaire. Whenever she’d run into him, whether by luck or her design, her heart hoped, and got crushed each time.
The last straw had been when she’d told him she was going off-planet for her advanced education. He’d wished her well and hadn’t even asked what she was going to study. Not that she’d known at the time, but she’d hoped he’d care enough to ask. To be fair, he’d never given her any indication that he might be interested in her, so she really only had herself to blame for letting herself get hurt again and again.
Being seven interstellar transit days away on a new planet, practically on her own, and making all new friends had helped dull the pain to an occasional ache. But now, out of five-hundred-plus settled planets in the galaxy he could have gone to, here he was, and she could feel hope stupidly blossoming in her again. It just wasn’t fair.
Valenia stopped just before the exit and turned to face Pico. “I’ll make you a deal. Let me dress you tonight like a classy, adult woman, who doesn’t wear elephant-wide pants and ninja split-toed boots on a tropical planet. If Sojaire still treats you like the kid next door, he’ll be dead to us both forever.”
Pico wavered. The Tamheurre family was in the fashion business, and Valenia had an extensive, high-quality wardrobe. It would be idiocy to turn her down. If nothing else, a night on the town dressed like a supernova star would be better than moping in her bedroom.
“Okay,” said Pico, “on one condition. The shoes come from my closet. Yours are downright dangerous, especially those spring-blade heels.”
Valenia nodded. “I can work around that.” She grinned. “Dominar Carlotta’s will be a lot better than leftovers.”
The main entrance door irised open, and a tall, slender purple-haired woman came floating in on an almost-silent glide board. They were forbidden in all of O-Poly’s buildings, but after hours, students were rarely caught at it. The woman saluted them as she banked toward the left and vanished into the north wing.
Valenia turned to face the dark, took one sharp breath, then stepped outside. Pico stayed next to her, trying not to be obvious about keeping an eye on her. The campus was well lit all night, but it still left plenty of shadows. Their wrist lights created soft pools of light that moved with each swing of their arms.
“Do you have anything in your closet for my dad?”
Valenia gave her an incredulous look. “Why? Does he like wearing women’s clothing?”
Pico burst out laughing at the thought, then covered her mouth because it was so loud. “He prefers it on women. His ping said he’s bringing Professor De Luna, and I think he likes her.”
“Likes her, likes her?” Valenia frowned. “Professor De Luna? She’s got to be in her fifties or sixties, the way she dresses.”
Pico sighed. Valenia couldn’t help that her primary view of the universe always started with clothes, since it was her family’s business, but it skewed her judgment about people. Pico knew Professor De Luna was in her late thirties.
“Yes, likes her, and the only nice clothes he brought with him got thrashed in the evacuation.” Tremplin wasn’t the place to buy business attire, unless one was very fond of jungle prints. “I want him to make a good impression on her. He hasn’t been out with anyone since my mo… since forever.”
Valenia shuddered delicately. “I couldn’t imagine helping my father get ready for a date.”
They arrived at the public transport dock, where a few other students were already waiting.
“That’s because your mother would murder him in his sleep. Besides, he wouldn’t need any help. He has stylists on call, plus your uncle’s interplanetary chain of body parlors.”
Pico stepped up to the transport call box and entered the coordinates for their apartment complex into the queue. “Promise me you won’t mention the ‘D’ word to my dad, or he’ll find an excuse not to go. It’s not a date. It’s just an evening with friends.”
Chapter 8
* Planet: Nila Marbela * GDAT 3241.145 *
Andra shouldn’t have agreed to go that night, even though it was just a simple dinner with friends. Well, maybe not simple.
Dominar Carlotta’s First Flight was one of the gems of the galactic tourist trade, and with good reason. The restaurant’s airborne oval platform permanently traced lazy circles over the city of Tremplin at an altitude of five thousand meters, and offered spectacular views of the city lights and luminescent ocean reefs from every seat, day or night. Andra had no idea how Jerzi’s friends from Etonver had managed to book seating for seven during premium dining hours, but she supposed all it had taken was money.
On the shuttle trip up to the platform lobby, the agreed rendezvous point, Jerzi had vaguely mentioned his friend Luka had recently come into an inheritance. She’d only half-listened because she’d been waffling between kicking herself for agreeing to an expensive dinner with strangers and enjoying the scenery, mostly of Jerzi in a red sunset-patterned knit shirt that clung to him like water. She was amused to note that she wasn’t the only passenger admiring that particular view. Jerzi affably chatted with anyone and everyone, but stayed with her.
She’d been on the verge of turning him down for a beer after their range session, but when he’d unexpectedly invited her to meet his friends, she’d caught a vulnerable look on his face that weakened her resolve to get out of his orbit. He needed someone in his corner for once, considering how Dhorya Sankirna had ripped his family apart. Andra could go back to keeping a professional distance from the Adams clan after Jerzi left.
She liked Jerzi’s friends. It was a pleasant change to be with people who didn’t treat her like a barely tamed predator or an unstable thermobaric charge just waiting to blow. For all that the Optimal Polytechnic regents lionized her for her military background, the rest of the academic Materials Science faculty viewed it with varying amounts of disdain or alarm. She liked the new career she’d made for herself, but her personal life paid the price. Jerzi’s easy company reminded her what it was like not to feel lonely.
Her seat at the clear, meltglass table, flash-formed into a heptagon for their party, gave her a good view of Luka Foxe and Mairwen Morganthur, and of their assistant, Sojaire Celeyron. Pico sat to Andra’s right and Jerzi to her left, with Valenia in between Pico and Sojaire. The restaurant’s acoustic design included tech that made it easy to hear their table conversation, and yet kept the chatter from the rest of the patrons to little more than white noise.
Andra pointed upward. “I’ve never seen sonic walls in a commercial setting. They’re not cheap.” She poured herself more wine from the bottle on their table. It was a smooth, complex-flavored red that was probably half a month’s salary for a professor. Wines were rare on Nila Marbela, owing to unsuitable ecosystems, and transit-stable wines from other planets cost small fortunes.
Luka’s eyes gleamed. “I’d like to see the tech behind them.” He smiled genially. “I’m a fan.”
“Focused wave dampeners,” said Andra. “The university’s physics engineers have some big ones in their lab.” She pointed up to the ceiling again, which was lit with thousands of pinpoint colored lights that periodically morphed into popular nebula patterns. “These would have to be smaller and movable to match the changing table configurations, so they’re probably synced arrays on a hex-grid.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Andra saw
Sojaire doing something on his wristcomp and Valenia looking around and fidgeting, and realized she’d probably been boring half the table. “Sorry.” She held up her hands in apology. “Once a professor, always a professor.”
Jerzi laughed. “You’ve always loved knowing how things work. Saved the unit more than once, back in the day.”
Andra snorted. “No fault of mine that none of you lopars learned to read.”
Jerzi and Luka laughed, and quiet Mairwen smiled a little. Valenia asked Pico what a “lopar” was. While Pico explained it meant someone who was obliviously, confidently reckless, Sojaire pretended to read his wristcomp. Andra wasn’t fooled; he’d been wholly tuned to Pico the entire evening.
Andra gathered that all three of them had known each other in Etonver, and may have met at the space camp Jerzi had mentioned earlier. Sojaire had obviously never seen the version of Pico that looked exquisite in a designer dress that graced her small but lithe form, with a subtle cloud of twinkling fairy lights in her dark hair, and flawless makeup and body art with a fantasy theme. Taller, poised Valenia was similarly dressed to impress in flowing orange resilk, but might as well have been invisible as far as Sojaire was concerned. Andra almost felt sorry for the young man. He was well-mannered and handsome, without an ounce of arrogance, but he might have been taking his friend for granted. If Pico noticed Sojaire was off balance, she didn’t let on.
Andra turned back to Luka. “I’d like to hear more about your company.”
As Luka described his specialty in forensic crime scene investigation and his partner’s focus on security assessments for commercial businesses, Andra watched them together. Luka was the same height as Jerzi, but much slimmer, with disarrayed dark hair, and the loose blue-green shirt he wore matched his eyes. He was handsome, in an exotic kind of way, with Nordic features but golden skin tone, and no beard. He seemed comfortable in the upscale surroundings, and joked with Jerzi and Pico, but she had the feeling he was registering everything he saw. She’d caught him focusing on her just as they were being seated, and she’d bet he could describe her elegant but conservative tunic set, hair, and jewelry in perfect detail. Da’vin used to get that look when she was on a reconnaissance mission, so Andra always thought of it as “recon eyes.”
Pico's Crush Page 7
