Chapter 9
Her manupartner new roommate, James, steps out of the dressing room.
“Ooohh!” she exclaims, clapping her hands appreciatively.
She knew the fitted orange slacks with the metallic glint would enhance his form.
Zephyr, those thighs—Jett was right. And the bias-cut black T-shirt is simple, but clings to his chest in a way that makes her want to rub against it. But the slacks . . . “Those look—”
Mid-sentence, like she was invisible, a girl from A Quadrant—Trssh, she recalls—stood up from her desk, raising her hand.
Trssh said, “In anticipation of today’s lesson, I wrote a poem called ‘The Sharing Fallacy.’ May I read it for the class?”
This was met with eager nods and rapt attention from both students and instructors. Trssh began reciting:
“One for you, one for me, but none for you means two for me,
If two for me gives me glee, then why make two less one for you?
One plus one is so much fun—”
“I was speaking,” K8 whined. “She interrupted me.” Heat climbed higher and higher up her neck, and she gave serious thought to stomping. “How does that show respect—”
“Now, K8, don’t you want to hear Trssh’s poem? I bet she worked hard on it. Class, please show Trssh respect for her wonderful efforts.” Even though Trssh had yet to read her entire poem, the class erupted into applause, with a few students even dancing in their chairs.
Now, K8 saw that the instructor had been happy to have attention diverted away from a question he couldn’t answer, but at the time, she couldn’t understand how she had been so easily brushed aside.
It had a deep impact on her nine-year-old self, and she often thought of that day.
K8 had studied the girl, trying to figure out what made her more important.
Was it because she was from A Quadrant? Was it her pretty blonde hair?
Or the way all the boys wanted to sit next to her?
Or was it simply something about K8 that meant she didn’t warrant the same consideration?
K8 watched the other children celebrating their classmate, but she couldn’t force herself to join in. Of course, Trssh, noting her failure to clap, started blubbering. She pointed at K8 and asked, “Why isn’t she clapping?” in a pouty voice only a child could manage.
K8 can still picture the instructor’s deep frown as he asked K8 to leave the classroom until she could demonstrate a little more consideration for her fellow students.
“You should be ashamed of yourself,” he told her in front of the entire class.
A dozen pairs of disapproving eyes followed her out of the room.
After that, K8 decided to never attempt sharing.
She made a motto to avoid such uncomfortable confrontations: “When in doubt, just do a little dance, smile, and remember: Each Individual Experience is Important.” Fortunately, no one seemed to remember her mistake the next day, but the lesson had already sunk in.
“Two of the black,” James barks.
4Ally must be stronger than she looks. She doesn’t even blink as she answers, “Yes, of course.”
K8 offers 4Ally a sympathetic smile, which she accepts gratefully before returning her attention to James. They’ll have to work on that.
She hates to make excuses for him, but maybe things really were that different during his time.
The obituaries said he was a billionaire.
That amount of money was extraordinary. He would have been akin to a king.
Someone used to being served. Giving an order and having it done without question.
Someone surrounded by people willing to do this.
The whole concept feels strange to K8, but she’s trying to understand.
After ten minutes of 4Ally taking notes on her tablet and James swiping through the catalogue, they appear to be completing the order.
A billionaire’s equivalent doesn’t exist anymore.
Occasionally, someone will invent something and start a company.
They’ll make it into the rumored “A+” pay bracket.
There are loopholes and secret markets that afford some a greater surplus of unicoin and the perks that come with it.
But it’s nothing compared to what James was during his time.
That much she’s researched. Yet there is still more to learn if she has any hope of understanding him.
And she wants to. Because maybe this man from the past is her chance to build something real.
Holy Mother Zephyr gifted her James, someone who doesn’t know how things are in her world.
He obviously finds her attractive, so they are off to a good start.
If most people during his time were in partnerships with other people, then he won’t know how things are.
He won’t have the same relationship expectations as people do now.
He might desire a monogamous partnership like her parents had.
Her chest fills with hope. Could James be the answer she’s been searching for?
She’s practically buoyant when 4Ally says, “That will be three hundred forty-five million unicoin.”
James wanders into the hallway to wait on her. K8 glances between 4Ally and James before leaning in. “We’ll take the last two outfits he tried on, too. And I agree. Smaller would definitely be better on that green number. Zorg forbid we waste an ass like that.”
The shopgirl gives her a conspiratorial giggle, adjusting her total. K8 types in her NHOS identification number and lets the camera get a retina scan for confirmation. Then she breezes out.
A few hours and a few shops later, she runs across the most divine pair of silver synthifiber sandals that would go perfectly with the dress she bought last week.
“I’ll just pop in here,” she tells James.
She tries on the shoes, and they are as perfect as she imagined.
When she enters her payment details, she has to withhold a grimace at the staggering sum that is nearly half of James’s entire wardrobe.
And there is his lease to consider. She should probably put them back, but when will she find something that goes better with that dress she bought last week?
She’s already made the investment. To not buy them would be a waste.
Thinking of it that way, K8 happily signs for her purchase, which will be delivered to her unit by the time they return.
James narrows his eyes at her as she drifts back into the hallway. “I guess being an air control officer is a pretty high-paying position?”
K8 shrugs, half intending to ignore the question. It is a high-paid position. But the spring lines this year were impossible to pass up. And when she wore that reflective lime catsuit, she got a dozen compliments.
“K8?” James presses. “You can afford all this plus my lease, right? At least until I figure out a way to pay you back?”
“Sure.” She turns away from his prying gaze.
Perhaps she should take a look at her Worldbank account now that it’s come up.
The thought makes her stomach swirl and dip.
What she really needs is a distraction—for both of them.
“Oooohhh!” she exclaims as they walk past a shop called Proclivities, which sells adult products.
The gold spiked collar in the window is what catches her eye.
Why didn’t she think of it sooner? “I need to feed Broccoli! I’ll introduce you. Come on.”
“Who’s Broccoli?” James asks, and she can tell he’s intrigued. Plus, he’s distracted from the money issue. Both things please her.
Perhaps this will go better than the clothes shopping. And she’s missed Broccoli. She’s been so preoccupied, and it’s been years since she’s seen him. What an opportunity. “My dog!”