26 Somewhere with Birds
Somewhere with Birds
S pie: Dare I ask what happened to put my brother in the best mood he’s been in since utero?
Temmi: Considering he’s your brother, it’s weird you want to know.
Lying in bed, Temmi waited for a response. The rest of her date with Nicky had gone well. It’d even been fun once she’d put out of mind the cameras (and Kya’s murder) and focused on kicking Nicky’s ass building her mini-RC hover.
Spie had been messaging her for the better part of twenty minutes. Mostly harmless teasing. The levity was a breath of fresh air. Temmi rolled onto her side lest Arbora wake up and see her bridging—she’d rather not answer questions as to why she was messaging the princess.
Before going to sleep, she’d asked her roommate if she knew anything about Kya Ep-Kmin, including the public’s response to her being sent home (since Arbora had access to the internet).
Arbora hadn’t given her much beyond narrowed eyes and a few quick lines about how Kya’s family owned the Pikliminian Space Station, how she’d been involved in philanthropic work, had led an initiative to cycle station dwellers off-station for regular jaunts planetside, and that, by all online accounts, her return home had been quiet—which was, apparently, typical of reality-show contestants.
They were supposed to lie low until after the show finished airing.
If Kalvin was right and the murderer was another contestant, then Temmi needed to set her sights on the girls there specifically for Nicky. She’d bridged Kalvin for the information. He’d responded almost immediately with a list:
Kalvin: Yourself, Kya Ep-Kmin, Damaya Aleinse, Rosaria Yune, Qurain Qu, and Waiting Willow. And, after her night-one pronouncement, Cailin Frederik.
Considering Temmi hadn’t killed anyone, Kya herself was dead, and Temmi doubted Rosaria possessed the capacity to harm a mite, that left Cailin, Qurain, Damaya, and Waiting Willow (the latter being from the same planet as Blessing Stone).
It was as good a place as any for Temmi to start her private investigation.
If Ollie were there, he’d say Cailin was the most obvious suspect.
Already a proven bitch, with a lot to lose if Nicky didn’t pick her.
Spie’s next message populated.
Spie: What can I say? We’re just that kind of family.
Temmi stifled a laugh.
Temmi: Excuse me while I go vomit.
Spie: Need me to come hold your hair?
Temmi: Oh no, master princess, I wouldn’t dream of letting my sick anywhere near your royal body.
A minute passed without response. Two. Temmi swallowed down a growing unrest. She’d gone too far, had said something stupid. Scared Spie off. Oh, nebulas, why did she open her mouth? Then—
Spie: Master princess?
Temmi released a relieved breath.
Temmi: I thought it had a nice ring to it. Certainly better than Trash Girl.
Spie: Hm. Garbage Gremlin?
Headlights flashed by Temmi’s window. The night patrol’s hovercraft making rounds. As far as she was aware, no one else had died today. Though the thought was cold comfort. She ducked her head beneath the covers of her blanket. She felt safer that way.
The muscles between her wrist and elbow flared as she typed.
Temmi: How about Royal Narcissist? For you, in case that wasn’t obvious.
Spie: WOW. Okay. Migrant of Domestic Refuse.
Temmi: Well now I’m just offended.
Spie: Okay, but I have an actual question. A serious one.
Temmi: Oh?
Temmi couldn’t help the nerves that fluttered to life in her stomach.
Spie: What are you going to do with the money? After you’re back home?
Temmi shook out her wrist before answering.
Temmi: I’m not going home, remember?
Spie: I know, I know, and I’m totally onboard with the stab-Cailin-Frederik-in-the-back plan, but humor me. You’re two million credits richer, what’s the first thing you do?
The probability of being sent home was high; Temmi wasn’t an idiot. And if she didn’t win, she’d gladly return home two million credits richer, knowing she’d given X72 her all.
Temmi: I’d move away. Take Ollie and my mom somewhere better. Somewhere with clean air and birds. Ollie would like that. I once saw him watching a documentary about these little red and black swallows on some planet in Expan’s outer rim. Maybe we’d go there.
Another pause. The seconds ticked by into minutes as Temmi listened to the deepening sound of Arbora’s breathing across the room.
No response from Spie. I was too honest, she thought.
Or too pathetic. As a nebula-cursed member of the imperial royal family, Spie probably had no concept of how something as simple as birdsong might be the dream of a lifetime for someone like Ollie.
But perhaps that was for the best. Temmi had no business growing closer to Spie Expani.
Highlighting the massive disparity between their socioeconomic circumstances was the reminder Temmi needed to put the princess out of her mind.
To focus on Nix and the prize of the imperial throne.
On the power that would come with it. The sort of power that could keep her and her family from ending up like Kya Ep-Kmin.
But then her CB vibrated, and Temmi viewed the message so fast, it was embarrassing.
Spie: That sounds beautiful. Maybe someday you can send me a picture of the swallows.
Temmi drafted her response. Maybe someday you can visit me there. But she deleted the words almost immediately. Not because they were inappropriate but because they made her feel too vulnerable.
· · ·
The next morning, Temmi was woken by her producer. Justine had on a new billed cap, black with an emblem proclaiming Represent Irma.
Tired, Temmi yawned and rolled out of bed. She wasn’t used to getting to sleep as late as she had the last couple days. Slowly, she staggered her way across the hall to the washroom. Where she ran smack into prime suspect number one.
Cailin Frederik was alone, sanitizing her hands in the sink, her hair done up in a towel, her porcelain face splotchy with bits of white cream. She had on a plush-looking emerald robe.
“Oh, it’s you. How was your date yesterday?” Cailin asked, her tone a shade too sweet, like poison. She turned away from the mirror, folding her arms over her chest.
“Fine,” Temmi said. Don’t engage, she told herself, making a beeline for the toilet stall farthest from the one where Kya had died.
“I suppose you think you’re in some kind of dream, don’t you?” Cailin said, making it very hard for Temmi not to engage. “Coming all the way out here and snagging the prince’s attention. A real fairy tale for someone like you.”
“You don’t know the first thing about me.”
“I know you don’t belong here. I know people like you never end up with people like him.”
All right, fine. Time to engage. Temmi squared up with Cailin, who might very well be capable of murder. “You’re just jealous. Which is so fucking basic of you, it’s actually pathetic.”
Cailin’s nostrils flared. Her eyes, a sharp poison-frog green, narrowed. Her thin lips curled into a hideous grin. “Keep stealing his attention, and I’ll ruin you.” She stepped past Temmi as though to leave.
A normal person, with an ounce of protective instincts, would’ve let her leave. But Temmi was, in many ways, an idiot. “Just like you ruined Kya?” she called.
Cailin froze. Didn’t turn around. Said only, “You’re spouting nonsense,” and left.
Soon after, when Temmi emerged from the shower, a thick towel wrapped around herself, the washroom was packed with other contestants. Rosaria found her immediately, slinging an arm around Temmi’s still-wet shoulders. It was so unconsciously friendly, Temmi was taken aback.
“Gods, I was up all night dying to know how your date with Nix went! Just ask Petra— Petra !” Rosaria swung her gaze around the bustling washroom. “Where’d that ole codger get off to? I swear she’s avoiding me. Ah, no matter. Here, give me your bridge frequency.”
Temmi couldn’t have said no if she’d wanted to. Rosaria fully followed her back to her room and threw herself onto Arbora’s empty bed, seemingly without a care in the world.
“So, spill already!”
“It was nice—”
“Right, right, but did he kiss you?”
Temmi felt her face flush.
“Oh, my gods, he did! He likes you!” Rosaria rolled over and sighed at the ceiling.
“He’s perfect, isn’t he? A real gentleman compared with the men back home.
They’re all so crass, but Nix is always composed.
What was it like?” Her pretty face went slack.
“ What if he picks you? Ahhh, wouldn’t that be amazing?
I mean, I want him to pick me , obviously, but I’d be just as happy if it was you. ”
“Oh, well, I think it’s a bit too early to think like that.” Temmi sidled toward her closet. She needed to get dressed and wasn’t about to drop her towel in front of Rosaria—or anyone. Her CB buzzed.
Spie: Morning, Trash Girl.
Temmi’s chest warmed; her stomach fluttered. Her CB buzzed again.
Justine: If you’re not in hair and makeup in ten, I’m coming to fetch you. And you’re wearing the blue romper—Manny picked it out.
“Are you so excited for the group date today? I wonder what it’s gonna be.
Though I guess you’re probably not going, are you?
Since you got to spend all of yesterday with Nix.
” Rosaria rolled to her side and propped her head up with one arm.
“You can get dressed—I don’t mind. I’m used to it.
When I was modeling, they used to shove twenty of us into a single room to save on rent. ”
“I’ll just get dressed in the closet,” Temmi said, immediately finding the blue romper laid out on top of her open trunk.