7. CHAPTER SEVEN
The ramp sealed behind us with a loud click, and my sense of down lurched sideways before remembering where it was supposed to be.
The air inside was cooler, crisp against my skin. A pale blue glow threaded along the floor in clean, unbroken lines, guiding us forward.
I’d ridden shuttles around Earth before. Transit ferries. Commuter pods. Those were just buses with delusions of grandeur.
This thing felt like a whole city that had decided it was tired of staying put and had started walking. I didn’t even know these existed on the ground.
“Welcome to Lumara Arc,” a calm voice said from somewhere overhead. My translator rendered it in neutral English. “New passenger detected. Human. Such finicky creatures. Frail and feeble.”
I looked up. “Uh, thanks?”
“That’s Dune,” Zhari said, smiling. “The AI. She runs the bus.”
“I run everything,” Dune said. “Zhari just thinks she is in charge because her name is on the hull.”
“Dune,” Zhari warned.
“I’m being welcoming,” Dune said. “Sira let me know Vada was coming, so I prepared the climate settings for human comfort. You prefer eighteen degrees Celsius, yes? I looked it up. You are all very fussy about temperature.”
“You looked at what I liked based on—”
“Your name,” Dune interrupted me. “Vada Lamoth. From Earth. London, England. You are twenty-nine years of age. When they scanned your ticket at the concert, all your data was transferred with it.”
There was a brief pause.
“I also know your shuttle seat was 12C and that you did not sleep during the flight. Your heart rate was elevated for five hours. Are you always this stressed, or is it a special occasion?”
“Okay,” I whispered. “That’s a lot of information for a bus to have about me.”
“I am not just a shuttle bus,” Dune said, sounding offended. “I am the most advanced artificial intelligence in three systems. I also make excellent Nebs.”
Zhari leaned in. “She is very proud of her noodles.”
“The broth temperature is always perfect,” Dune said. “I have won zero awards for this because there are no awards for AI-prepared noodles, which I think is a flaw in the system.”
I looked at Zhari. “Is she always like this?”
“Always,” Zhari said, rolling her eyes.
“I grow on people,” Dune added cheerfully.
Zhari rolled her eyes again. “We need to go to the crew deck first. Sira wants to make a speech.”
“You know,” I muttered, “I’m not sure she wants me here.”
Zhari grabbed my hand and smiled. “That’s not true. Come on. It’ll be fine.”
I let her pull me down the corridor, even though every step made it harder to believe her. I was a little intimidated by Sira. She always had a completely stern look on her face.
We walked through the main hall of the bus and up a flight of stairs. The space opened into a common room that actually looked lived-in, nothing like the sterile arena suite. Cute throws and pillows were scattered across low benches bolted to the floor. Dark holo-screens sat recessed in the walls.
One corner was a mess of show outfits, keyboards, and drums, the kind of clutter that said the tour had been running for a while and no one had the energy to clean up.
Conversations stuttered as we walked in, a dozen pairs of eyes flicking toward our joined hands.
Zhari noticed when I did. Her fingers tightened around mine for half a second before she let go. I had no idea what to do with that, so I wiped my palm on my pants and shoved my hand into my pocket, pretending it didn’t matter.
But it did matter. I felt the absence right away, and I hated that I felt it. I hated that I hated it, and my brain really needed to shut up.
“Everyone,” Sira said, standing by the center table with her tablet as if it were grafted to her hand.
“This is Vada Lamoth. She’s human—from Earth, as you’ve probably guessed from her appearance.
Vada, this is Tev.” She gestured to a man in a bright blue suit.
He was scrolling on his tablet and looked up when he heard his name. “He’s head of marketing.”
I smiled at Tev. He gave me a nod, then went back to whatever he’d been doing on his tablet.
She clicked her tongue loudly and glanced over at me.
A tall, green woman waved. “Welcome to the whale,” she said. “I’m Lyn. I’m on drums.”
Lyn was a Draxin. Her species was reptilian-like, and she was tall and slender. She was gorgeous.
“I know who you are,” I said, beaming and barely containing my excitement. “I have every issue of Star Girlz Magazine. My favorite one is the issue with you and Yuki on the cover from last year’s Try’layla tour. I have the mini poster of you two that came inside pinned above my desk at work.”
Lyn smiled. “Oh, so you’re a big fan?”
“Mhm.” I smiled and nodded, trying not to completely fangirl.
I glanced at Yuki, who was standing near her, and gave him a small smile. He was a Borinthian from Planet Borin. He was blue and tall, with ocean-colored eyes like Zhari’s.
“Well, welcome, Vada. Glad you’re here,” Yuki said as he flashed me two finger guns before walking away.
My eyes trailed down to his hands, where he held a small, colorful creature.
“This is Nova,” Yuki gushed, holding his hands out to me. “She is my Anori Sea Slug from Neptune.”
I leaned in a little closer, examining the beautiful markings and colors across her body.
“She may not look it,” Yuki whispered, leaning close to my ear, “but Nova is spicy. She likes to escape her tank to eat all our snacks and get into mischief. So watch your food.”
He winked at me, then brought his hands to his face to blow her a kiss.
“Oh, well, hi, Nova,” I giggled. “You are so cute!”
Nova looked at me and slowly blinked. I wasn’t sure if she was unimpressed or what, but she definitely seemed spicy.
Sira cleared her throat.
“Okay, let’s keep this moving. Vada will be traveling with us for this leg as a cultural guest,” Sira went on.
“That means she has limited access to crew areas and events, and unlimited access to being polite to you while you are working. If she asks you questions about your work,” Sira continued, “answer them unless you’re about to crash a shuttle or blow a speaker.
If the media asks you questions about her, you say no comment or send them to me. Understood?”
A chorus of “yeah” and “sure” answered her, along with one “What media?” that earned its speaker a smack on the arm.
Sira’s gaze landed on me.
“That goes for you as well. No streaming from restricted areas, no accidental leaks about set changes or anything else, and if someone from a tabloid waves credits at you, you pretend you don’t understand numbers.”
“I genuinely don’t understand numbers, and I work as a data-entry clerk,” I said. “So we’re good.”
A few more laughs echoed through the room. Sira pinched the bridge of her nose, but there was less exasperation in it this time. It was more like she had accepted that I was a thing that was happening now and she was going to have to deal with it.
“All right,” she said. “Lyn, Yuki—wait, where did Yuki go?”
Sira looked around the room, but Yuki was gone.
“Okay, Lyn, show her the basics. Zhari, you can show Vada where she will be sleeping after your quick live interview.”
Sira’s eyes landed back on me, narrowing.
“Don’t break anything in the meantime. I know humans are clumsy.”
I nervously chuckled as the crowd dissolved into smaller groups. Lyn walked over to me with a smirk and gently touched my arm.
Up close, she was tall and sharp-featured. Her magenta hair was braided tightly against her skull, with glittered extensions woven through it. She had the kind of energy that made you feel like something fun was about to happen, whether you wanted it to or not.
“Come on, human. Let me give you a tour.”
“Lead the way,” I said, falling into step with her. I glanced back at Zhari. “You coming?”
“In a bit,” she said. “I have to tell my followers on Orbit Palz where we’re going next.”
She tapped her wristband, where a hologram of notifications was stacking up like tiny hungry mouths.
“After that, I will find you. You are not allowed to hide.”
She smirked.
“Trust me,” I said. “I’ve never been less hidden in my life.”
She smiled softly and peeled off toward one of the side rooms with Sira. I watched her go. Her spine straightened as her expression smoothed into something practiced and professional.
The private version of her slipped away, tucked behind the polished one as if it had never been there.
I’d seen what was underneath, though. Last night, sitting on the floor and bonding over Nebs. Laughing in pajamas with her makeup gone. Just her.
And now I couldn’t unsee it.
The gap between the two versions of her felt enormous, and I was maybe the only person in that corridor who knew it truly existed. I wondered if Yuki and Lyn had seen the real her—the easygoing, relaxed version of Zhari.
“Come on,” Lyn said, jerking her chin. “We’ll start with the important stuff.”
“Emergency procedures? Gravity protocols?”
Lyn let out a quick laugh and hooked her arm through mine.
“The kitchen,” she said, already steering me across the open deck.
“That’s totally the most important thing to see.” I giggled, trying to keep my cool.
Lyn was a rock star on the drums, and she was linking arms with me, Vada Lamoth.
Someone, pinch me.
The mess was buzzing when we walked in. Long tables lined up in rows, with a wall of dispensers quietly humming. Crates were stacked in an alcove nearby, their labels printed in Velan, English, and Orinian.
Yuki was already there, loading up a tray with way too much food.
“Lunch is the best meal on this bus,” Lyn announced, steering me toward the dispensers. “Dune does a rotating menu based on whatever system we’re nearest to. Today, we’ve got Velan staples.”
The dispenser wall lit up with options as we approached.
I recognized Nebs on the list, but there were dozens of others—grain bowls with glowing seeds, steamed dumplings filled with something bright orange, flatbreads with a shimmering spread, and skewers of something that looked like roasted fruit but pulsed faintly with color.