Emeralds. Emeralds. Emeralds. Holly concentrated, focusing on the strength of an emerald. Focus on the strength of the hull. Focus on the strength of a pioneer.
Her sides were slick with perspiration beneath her traveling jacket and shirt. She’d worn her tall boots, a recent gift from Meg to replace the pair of boots she’d worn into prison. Meg took that pair and threw them into the recycling. Holly fiddled with a buckle on a boot and breathed. The worst threat here was simply the silent beast of space. And the Centau, they were clever and advanced. And the ship was full of Centau. And they wouldn’t travel between moons if they didn’t trust their own genius.
Holly was vaguely aware of Shiro in the room talking to Darius whose voice was only in the ear with the comm. Odeon turned from the window.
Holly squeezed her eyes shut and then . . . the anxiety in her gut began to vanish. A sense of well being began to flood through her. She sighed and lifted her head, her eyes still closed against the soft light of their cabin. She took several deep breaths and fell back against her bed.
“You can’t possibly do this the entire trip. It’s too long for one measly Druiviin to maintain,” Holly said, her voice a croak from the fleeing fears.
“Ah, it looks like the sensei has overcome her space-sickness,” Shiro said, standing in the doorway to the water closet.
“She’s going to be OK?” Darius asked over the comms.
“As long as Odeon can soothe me the entire trip,” Holly said, flushing with embarrassment.
“There are other options, Holly,” Odeon said in a sing-song voice, to keep the spell on her.
“He’s right. As soon as we leave port, we’re heading to the dining room,” Shiro laughed. “For a bit of the old medicine. Think of it as a service to yourself and Odeon.”
“I prefer a Yublis Branco myself, for inter-moon travel,” Darius laughed over the comms.
“Holly isn’t picky, boys,” Charly piped in. “Just make sure its high enough alcohol content to keep her feeling toasty and warm.”
“Totally unnecessary,” Holly said. “Just one or two imperial ales and I’ll be fine.”
“One should be enough, my dear. If you require two to get relaxed, you’ve got a problem,” Shiro observed.
“Whatever, Shiro,” Holly said, dismissing him.
“Come watch the ship unmooring,” Odeon said in that gentle song-like voice. “It’s a magnificent vision.”
“I’ll head to the dining room now. I’d like to get a read on it before Holly arrives. Don’t want any Shadow Coalition thugs surprising us.”
“Great idea. Keep me apprised,” Holly said, feeling better than ever.
She stood next to Odeon and gazed out the window. Kota was off to one side, while the space port took up much of the other side of the view. Above them, fat Ixion hovered, the borders of its famous stripes a bit less defined. Through the translucent windows of the space platform, she could see the colors of the different races and the bazaar type colors of the tents of the shops. Around the curved edge of the port, another ship loomed, waiting to depart. But departure was imminent for the Emerald Pioneer. The metal arm moorings detached and retracted toward the space-port. Soon, Holly caught sight of the solar sails as they unfurled in the storm of solar and aetheric energy. She sensed a slight movement in the ship as the ground beneath her creaked and shifted. But it was very near the threshold of her ability to sense it, and she suspected that if she hadn’t been watching through the window, she’d not have even noticed. The ship retreated from the port and then caught the current and began to move at a steady clip away from Kota and the port, bound for Itzcap, the true paradise of the 6-moons.
“Let’s go get me a drink, Odeon. I can’t possibly expect you to sing me into calm for the entire trip,” she laughed. Indeed, the longer he calmed her, the more it felt as though she were drunk. “Man, it’s like endorphins. You’re going to make me feel completely drunk on you. Intoxicated.”
He smiled at her, touching her back with his slender, long fingers. “That is a danger for humans. It wouldn’t work on another Yasao.”
Holly started. “Wait, you mean you could actually make a human fall in love with you, with your song?”
He shrugged and his violet hue shifted a shade lighter.
“Is that a blush?”
“Don’t worry, Holly. I’d never attempt to get you to become enamored with me.”
“Oh my god, it’s like a love potion,” Darius whooped in her ear.
“God, take it down a notch, Darius,” Charly scolded.
“He said he wouldn’t,” Holly said, seeing something like panic in Odeon’s eyes. “Stop. Please. Your making his calming effects on me fade. I need them if I’m going to function for the next seven hours”
“Jesus Holly, why are you so afraid of flying in space?” Charly asked. “I’ve never seen you like this.”
“I can’t talk about it right now. Or ever. Probably,” she confessed. “Let’s go, Odeon. To get drinks.” She smiled at him, hoping that her intervention lessened how Darius’s response had seemed to fluster him. “Also, you guys can go off-comms for a bit. Just one of you back at the Bird’s Nest needs to be on standby. Charly or Darius, I don’t care who. Shiro, Odeon, and I will keep our own comms on, though. We don’t want to get separated on this ship. We have no idea if we’re being followed.”
They locked their cabin and walked through the narrow hallway in the direction of the sounds of clinking dining utensils and music.
The dining room was more of a hall. Vast and grand, most of the people who traveled like this enjoyed the party aspect of their time trapped in the ship. There was a small stage where a Druiviin played some kind of native stringed instrument and sang in a tenor voice that melted when it touched the ears. Shiro had already found them a table and sat in a relaxed fashion, listening to the musician, his bowler resting on the table and his lion-head cane leaning against his leg, the tip on the ground. In front of him there was a small glass of clear liquid with a sprig of some herb balancing on it.
“Ah, here you are. I’ve already got myself an aperitif—something light and refreshing before dinner.”
“Oh, I don’t think I’ll be eating,” Holly said. “Odeon?” He was still humming, so when he answered, it was in the soft-song voice.
“Once you’re comfortable, I’ll have something light.”
“Brilliant,” Shiro said, clapping his hands together. He peered at the menu and began muttering to himself. “I could start with a refreshing lemon-grass soup.”
Holly tuned him out and went to the bar to order an imperial ale immediately. She couldn’t keep demanding that Odeon fucking hum to her to keep the space-sickness at bay. The bartender slipped an opened bottle into her hands and she threw her head back and downed half of it. Then she went back to the table, feeling the weakening effects of the alcohol rather quickly. It’d been a while since she’d eaten. Dinner was skipped in favor of getting to the space elevator dock and boarded onto the Emerald Pioneer. And here she was, still not eating, drinking instead to get through the harrowing experience.
“Odeon,” she said sitting back in her seat, “You can stop now. Take care of yourself. The drink is already working.”
He nodded and went to get himself a drink. Shiro already had his soup and was still studying the menu, looking for the next course.
“The perfect thing to pair with this soup. Perhaps a salad? No, that’s too light. Something just a shade heavier.”
Holly almost rolled her eyes, which made her think of her former students. She was too old for that gesture, at least, doing it openly in response to someone being idiotic. She drank the other half of her beer, feeling a new bout of anxious energy flooding her gut as she remembered what her life had been before that fatal moment with Graf.
Odeon returned with his drink—a dark blue wine in a large glass goblet. He settled into his seat and studied Holly. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah,” she said. “I m
ight need another.”
“Of course,” Odeon answered. “Should I get it?”
“God Odeon, you’re my friend, not a goddamn servant. Beshidesh…” she frowned. “Beshidesh? Beshidesh. If one of us ish a servant, it’sh me. I’m the human. You’re the eggplant. Shorry. Druiviin. Shorry. Yashao.”
“Maybe you’ve had enough, Holly?” Odeon said, raising his eyebrow, in a very human gesture.
“Shounds like it,” Shiro said, with a laugh. “I definitely agree with you on that account, my friend. Well, at least she’s past the space-flight-sickness and you can finally relax.”
Holly felt dizzy. She listened to them and knew somewhere deep in her brain, that she was not quite drunk enough. The horror still lingered there, but she found it possible to laugh at it, rather than wanting to scream or run. She yawned. Now she was feeling a bit tired. She put her head on the white tablecloth of the dining table and listened to the distant voices of Odeon and Shiro as they laughed and drank, until even that faded.
TWENTY-EIGHT
“THE same resort, lad, you’re joking, right?” Shiro was saying to Odeon.
Holly cringed. “Do you fucking have to yell?” She could barely keep her eyes open in the sunlight. They were riding a ferry from the space elevator dock to a pier on the beach of Cobalt Bay.
Darius’s voice came over the comm in Holly’s ear. “Someone had a bad night.”
Holly laughed lightly, but didn’t even honor that with a reply. At least she’d made it through the night. At least she hadn’t relied on Odeon’s goodwill the entire trip so that she didn’t have a complete mental breakdown.
“Yes, so that’s the resort. The Opal Galaxy. The woman in question is a one Aimee Voss. I can’t tell much from her records except that she’s not quite as clean as she’s attempting to appear. Multiple other identities associated with this woman. Her ties are suspect, but the point is, she’s in possession of the Skelty Key, for the locks on the suite back in the tower. Every room in this resort has a safe. I’ve got an old purchase order here for the safes—each one has two ways to access it. A key or a combination lock.” Darius whistled.
Holly hissed. “Ouch, it’s like you’re enjoying the torture. So shrill.”
“Sorry Holly. Anyway, these are old school safes. None of that scanner shit.”
“It’s because the resort is owned and operated by Druiviins. The safes are more of a novelty for the humans. The only people who’d steal are, forgive me, Consties or humans,” Odeon said.
The ferry docked and the three of them filed out along with the crowd from the space port.
“I can break the lock, Holly,” Odeon said.
“That’s what I was counting on,” she answered.
“I shall do my job—distraction,” Shiro said, cracking his knuckles. He led with his cane as they walked up the wooden dock of a calm inlet on the Cobalt Bay. Trees and plants native to Yaso peeked above the buildings clustered around the bay. The air was warm and dry, with a barely perceptible saltwater bite to it. Holly inhaled. She hadn’t been around large bodies of water much. Seeing the ocean awakened a glee that worked best on a child. It was exciting. It would have been better under different circumstances.
Soon they were in the Opal Galaxy, checking in. And Darius was speaking in their ears, telling them which room Aimee Voss was in—under a pseudonym—and what to expect.
“Odeon?” A voice behind them said. They spun as one, Holly pausing in her conversation with the hotel clerk.
Behind them stood two Druiviins, a woman and a man, looking ageless, but with their arms crossed expectantly. The more Holly was around Odeon, the more surprised she was to see the similarities in their nonverbal communication. Was it that humans were picking up on Druiviins, or the opposite?
“Mother, father,” Odeon said, bowing his head.
“What are you doing here? Are these your friends?”
“Of course,” Odeon said.
“Hey,” Holly said, waving her hand casually.
“What a pleasure,” Shiro said, bowing deeper than even Odeon had, while doffing his bowler. “Odeon has told me so much about you. He mentioned that you might be staying at the resort as well.”
“Are you staying? Are you visiting?”
“A visit,” Odeon said, nodding.
Holly turned back to the clerk and finished checking them in. Even if they didn’t stay, they needed to blend in, not arouse suspicion. “Yes, so just one room for myself and my lovers,” she repeated to the clerk. “You have a room, yes?”
“Of course,” the clerk said, a human male. His name badge said Steve, Helo, Cana Ove. Holly was from Helo, but not Cana Ove, so she said nothing to avoid that banal game of ‘do you know?’
Steve continued. “Let me set it up and get your payment.”
“Steve,” Odeon’s mother said. “Give them an employee discount. This is my son, Odeon, who hasn’t been to visit his parents in over one year.”
“Of course, Ms. Hera,” Steve said.
“Or, you could stay with us?” Hera said, her vibrant gaze flicking across their faces, and then landing and staying on Odeon’s.
“That won’t be necessary, Mother,” Odeon said. “There are three of us.”
“What’s happening?” Darius asked in Holly’s ear. Unfortunately none of them could give him a straight answer. He’d have to glean it from their conversation.
“No, I insist. We have a palatial suite. Don’t we insist, Socrates?” Hera said, turning to Odeon’s father. Holly couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at their human name choices. Were they delusional or simply accurate reflections of what they valued, like Odeon’s name? Hera—the queen of gods and wife of Zeus who had no problem with revenge. Beauty, power, influence. It chilled Holly to recall it. And Socrates, an ancient philosopher whose rebellious methods shook up the foundations of Greek thought during his time. What a pair!
Odeon caught Holly’s gaze. It would save them money. And if the suite really was as large as they said, they could keep a safe enough distance. “We’d love that. Wouldn’t we Shiro?”
In her earpiece, Holly heard Darius groan. “Really?” he said. “You’re letting Odeon’s parents run the show? They’re Druiviins. They’ll ruin your mission.”
But it would save us money, she wanted to say.
“A family reunion. Sounds lovely,” Shiro said. He seemed irritated as well. And come to think of it, Odeon also seemed irritated. But, Holly noted, neither of them were annoyed enough to insist on paying for their own resort room.
“Steve,” Hera said. “Give them all a key to our rooms. My son and his friends will be staying with us.” Holly didn’t think she was imagining the emphasis Hera put on friends.
“Certainly, Ms. Hera,” Steve said, busying himself with the process.
“And you’ll dine with us tonight, after we finish our work with the guests,” Hera said.
“I would love to hear what’s been happening on Kota, Odeon,” Socrates said, finally. What a strange pair, Holly thought, as the two Druiviins leaned in and pecked their son’s cheeks.
“See you all tonight.” Odeon’s father said, his brilliant eyes studying Odeon’s face.
“Come along, Socrates,” Hera said, walking away with Odeon’s father. She stopped and looked back. “Oh, you’ll all have the room looking out at the bay. Neither of us like that view.” She waved and walked away.
Holly exchanged glances with Odeon and Shiro. Their expressions were both irritated. “What?” Holly asked.
Darius whined into their earpieces. “Someone please tell me what’s been happening. You’re being forced to stay in a room with someone?”
“Yes,” Shiro said quietly. “Holly’s just cursed us to a resort stay in hell. Sorry, Odeon, no offense.”
“None taken,” Odeon said. “My parents are extremely demanding. They get their way.”
“Here you are,” Steve said behind them. Holly turned back to accept the keys for the group. “It’s room
four-oh-one. Would you like a bellhop to help you with your luggage? Or someone to take you to your room?”
Holly would have laughed if her head had stopped hurting. “No thanks.”
“Well, welcome to the Opal Galaxy. Enjoy your stay.”
Their room was enormous. Holly stood on the balcony that looked out on the Cobalt Bay. The water was part of a calm inlet. On the pink sandy beach, various parties sun-bathed and splashed in the water, or relaxed under umbrellas. There were palm trees in carefully landscaped gardens surrounded the pools and the very tall, thin-leafed trees from the Centau homeworld, as well as an assortment of skinny tropical pines from the Druiviin homeworld.
“They weren’t lying when they said their suite was palatial,” Shiro said, coming to stand beside Holly. “It’s a mansion. How is this all theirs? It’s bigger than my spire-top suite back home.” His black hair was mussed from having a hat on. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, he’d removed his jacket, and his gray vest held a pocket watch chain. Though they’d been traveling for hours, he looked washed, clean, and energetic.
“Hate to interrupt the fun resort times, but I’m forwarding you an image of Aimee Voss. You’ll need to find her and get moving on getting the Skelty Key. We’ve got six days left to do this. We’re already cutting it close with having to send you three off-moon.”
Shiro’s communicator beeped. He looked at it. “Got the woman. Here’s the plan—er, well, I guess . . . Holly you want to let us know what the plan is?”
“Sounded like you had one. Go ahead.”
“Righto, I’ll find her—I assume Darius knows what room she’s staying in?” He said, touching his ear.
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