Chapter 51 #3
He crunched down on the candy in his mouth.
That he’d even had the idea had shocked him into clamping his jaw shut.
His whole plan had been to get off the damn ship, not cement his ties even further.
Then he’d fallen straight onto Evelyn’s lips, and all his careful planning had gone to hell.
He’d stay on the damn boat forever if that’s what she wanted.
He chewed the shattered bits of candy as he watched Cairn go through the complicated pre-flight calculations necessary to evade all the sensors they needed to bypass on their way back to the ship.
Satisfied, Cairn launched the jump ship. They ascended from the port, and within moments they were sailing through the endless stars toward the Rising Dawn. Cairn treated himself to a pineapple candy, sat back in his seat, and kicked his feet up on the control center.
“Quit second-guessing yourself and figure it out. That’s what you’re bloody good at, innit? This is just more logistics.”
“You’re quite annoying when you’re pointing out obvious things I’ve missed.”
Lillian and Elenor had taught him that there was always a way to win, if you were willing to put in the work and, if necessary, circumvent the entirety of the rule book. He sure as hell wasn’t going to let nerves talk him out of going after Evelyn with everything he had.
The top deck of the observation area had been transformed.
Evelyn was amazed at how Tariel had managed to make the chic art deco surroundings take on a stern, regal feeling.
He had painted panels to resemble Tanalian landscapes, lush rolling green hills, and winding blue rivers, and had somehow suspended the ornate gilt framed paintings in mid air.
Drapes obscured the stars that usually made the seating area a meditative space for Evelyn.
Their rich maroon velvet made the paintings’ lush, verdant details pop.
There was a single chair and a small table next to it, just large enough for a shiny brass lamp.
Evelyn thought there might be enough space left on the table for a drink, but you’d have to be strategic with the glassware.
She also now thought her outfit made a lot more sense. Initially, she had believed that Veronique and Tariel had gone entirely over the top, but she now understood the image that Veronique wanted her to convey with her costuming.
The dress was a mash of femininity and military chic.
The soft plum wool — only woven every six months by artisans on an isolated outpost that orbited Barnard’s Star — swept up her neck to a high, stiff collar.
Two rows of gleaming brass buttons danced down her chest, giving the illusion of a sort of double-breasted blazer.
Her arms were snuggly encased, the wrist openings slightly flared; the shoulders just exaggerated enough to make the golden epaulets really pop.
The skirt was a flowing A-line that swished in a very satisfying manner when she walked, and Evelyn suspected it would be spectacular if she twirled in it.
Her feet were encased in soft, brown leather booties.
They too straddled the line between ass-kicking and girly, with just enough heel and point in the toe to entice, but detailing that may make one reconsider messing with the wearer.
She looked like a warrior princess awaiting an awards ceremony.
She didn’t hate it.
She also felt like a gigantic fraud.
Evelyn went to bite her lower lip, then stopped when she remembered her lips weren’t sealed well enough to stand up to teeth. Instead, she took a deep breath and counted to ten.
“Alright. Where do you want me?”
Veronique led her to the chair and positioned her in it, handing her a copy of the script.
She had Evelyn read through it three times, coaching her on the timber of her voice, on how long to linger over her words, when to leave a meaningful pause and when to carry on, confident that the message would speak for itself.
“We’re inspiring confidence. It’s harder to do completely cold, but we’ve been setting the stage in fits and starts.
They know your voice from the clips Lillian’s embedded in their systems. That’s going to be an unconscious association with a better time right off the bat,” Veronique said.
“Now, we just have to nail this speech.”
Next came the micro adjustments of limbs, her ankles crossed just so.
When in the speech Evelyn should shift her body toward the camera or away from it.
What to do with her hands. Evelyn never knew what to do with her hands on her best days, so she took careful note of these directions.
She seriously considered asking Veronique for a primer for casual hand placement she could carry forth into the future.
They recorded the speech three times from different angles. Lillian and Tariel would edit the clips together, using the best delivery of each line and the most dramatic camera angles. The entire focus of Evelyn’s world narrowed down to the task at hand.
Recite the speech.
Sell the message.
Save Tanalia.
There was no use in agonizing about the future yet. They were going to do the work necessary to ensure that she could have a future.
She stared into the lens of the camera.
Once more, with feeling.
“My name is Evelyn Alpertti.”