Chapter 27
27
Waiting outside the airlock with Freddie and Chan, watching the FFKs’ shuttle dock with the ship, I shifted from foot to foot, tapping my fingernails on my belt. This would go one of two ways. Either LunaCorp was right, and this would be an uneventful week spent training a few new employees. Or the ship was about to be raided.
Once the airlock finished cycling and the doors slid open, Chan, dressed in his finest suit, pulled his hoverchair forward. “Welcome aboard,” he said while the FFKs stepped over the threshold.
They were tall, all with deep-brown eyes, moon-pale skin, and jet-black hair. I wasn’t exactly sure what I’d expected, but the reality was strangely disappointing. There were no necklaces made of noses. No finger-bone earrings. There wasn’t even a single menacing tattoo. Instead, the two males looked sharp in well-tailored suits, and the two females stunned in black skirts and crisp white blouses. The younger of the females wore a pair of fabulous shoes, red heels with thin straps that wrapped twice around her ankles. If I’d thought in a million years that I’d be dying to know where a Kravaxian had bought her shoes…
“Hello,” I said, giving them a small nod, not extending my hand because—according to the sensitivity training Freddie had provided to the crew last week—Kravaxians only shook another being’s hand when agreeing to a fight to the death. Although he did add that this might have been inaccurate since so little was known about Kravaxian customs, I wasn’t taking any chances. “I am Sunastara, your hospitality specialist.”
One of the males stepped forward, the tallest and oldest—mid-forties in standard years, if I had to guess. He had a heavy brow, a jawline chiseled from marble, and the broad chest of someone who spent a great deal of time lifting heavy things. “I am Tano,” he said, waving his hand toward the female standing next to him, her chin jutting out proudly, her arms held stiffly at her sides. “This is my partner, Marisia.” He nodded toward the younger male to his right who had a wry twist to his mouth and friendly— for a Kravaxian —eyes. “My associate, Axel.” Last, Tano introduced the female wearing the phenomenal shoes. She was younger than the rest, maybe Tig’s age, with fine, birdlike features and a hesitant smile. “And this is Reya.”
“It is wonderful to meet you all,” I said. “Welcome to the Ignisar .”
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t surprised when it was Reya who replied.
“Thank you.” Her voice was quiet but unwavering. “It’s wonderful to meet all of you as well.”
When I shifted my gaze from Reya back to Tano, a sudden chill skittered across my neck. Despite his bland expression, there was an intimidating sharpness about him. Also, he looked strangely familiar. Something about his eyes, his cheekbones.
When he squinted back at me, suspicious, I gave him my best approximation of an unconcerned smile. Freddie took a moment to introduce himself then, his hands remaining in his pockets. Which reminded me of the night I’d found him in his pod, in his gray sweatpants, his hands sliding into his pockets like they were now?—
I closed my eyes, forcing my heart to remember, to hear the name again. Serena, Serena, Serena .
“Let me show you to your suites,” I said, needing to be anywhere but standing this close to Freddie. And while the FFKs gathered their bags, I leaned over to whisper into Chan’s ear. “You should cruise by Makenna’s pod while you’re wearing that fantastic suit.”
“Ooh. Good idea,” he whispered back.
When I straightened again, I sensed Freddie standing beside me, closer, that gravity between us pulling me toward him. It was so much harder than I’d thought it would be, not speaking to him, not having his friendship, his support, let alone anything else. Let alone his hands or his lips or his body moving over mine.
Stars above , he made me weak. When, right now, more than ever, I needed to be strong.
Gathering myself together, I said, “Please, follow me,” to the FFKs. Then I marched straight out of the docking bay without looking back.
After I showed Tano and Marisia to their shared suite, I led Axel, and then Reya, to their private rooms .
“This is very nice,” Reya said, running her fingers over her bed linens. “Thank you, Sunastara.”
“Please, call me Sunny. And you are more than welcome. I’m glad you find the room adequate.”
“It’s more than adequate,” she said, wide-eyed. “I have never seen such a beautiful room, let alone slept in one. I was raised on a ship, although one much smaller than this. It feels good to be back off planet.” Her silky, sable hair—just brushing her chin on one side and hanging to her collarbone on the other—slid forward as she examined the stitchwork on her comforter.
“Who are you training with during your stay?” I asked, my fingers crossed behind my back.
“IT, I believe. Someone named Tig?”
My smile was instantaneous. Of all the FFKs, Reya would have been my pick to work with Tig. She was young, talkative, and not at all intimidating. If Tano had been assigned to IT, I might have rioted on Tig’s behalf. “That’s wonderful,” I said. “Tig is one of my dearest friends, and she is excellent at her job. I’m certain you will learn a lot from her.”
Reya toyed with the comforter, her gaze rising to meet mine. “Sunny, I know how much of a risk it is for you to have us here. I know of my planet’s reputation. And I appreciate you—all of you—so much. All I want is to make our planet safer, stronger, with more legitimate opportunities for young people like me.”
I wasn’t knowledgeable enough in the ways of Known Universal commerce to deduce what LunaCorp’s long game was with Kravax, but one thing I did know was that I believed her. This was what she thought was best for her planet. And if I could believe Reya, maybe I could believe the rest of them too .
“Take some time to get yourself situated,” I said, taking a backward step toward the door. “Dinner is in two hours with the rest of the crew. The refrigerator and minibar are stocked, and there is fresh kurot milk next to your bathtub.”
“Fresh what?” Reya snorted, then she laughed, hard.
I frowned. “Is that funny?”
“I’m so sorry,” she said with a hand over her mouth, still laughing between her fingers. “But only my ancestors bathed in the milk of kurots. That tradition has not been practiced in centuries. Where in the worlds did you find fresh kurot milk?”
My mouth could not have opened wider if the kurot currently stinking up the Cosmic Spectacle stables had just stomped on my foot. “You have got to be kidding me.”
When Reya dissolved into laughter again, I laughed a little too.
“I had the thing shipped all the way from the CAK,” I admitted. “And they only had one because of LunaCorp’s new interplanetary petting zoo in their Central Park. It was pure luck that she happened to be female.”
“Orion’s eye,” Reya exclaimed. “I’m so sorry to put you through all that trouble. But, if I’m being honest, Tano is very old-fashioned and still holds to many outdated customs and beliefs”—she didn’t roll her eyes, but I could tell that she wanted to—“and superstitions. He might enjoy bathing in kurot’s milk.”
Giving her a little bow, I said, “Then it has all been worth it.”
When I left Reya’s room, I walked away far less worried about the FFKs than I’d been before their arrival. But now I had two hours until dinner with little to do. I should go to my pod. I should catch up on sleep while I could. But being alone right now seemed dangerous .
Elanie, I commed. Are you busy?
Very, she replied. Why?
Shit . Never mind. See you for dinner.
Alone it was. I could handle it. I could somehow avoid curling up in my bed and spending the next two hours thinking about?—
An opening in my schedule just presented itself, Elanie commed cryptically. What did you need?
Normally, I would press her on this, make sure she wasn’t making things harder for herself just to help me—which bionics were known to do. But today, I was desperate. Drinks? I’ll pay.
I only drink vitoWater. It’s free.
I know, I commed, laughing miserably at myself. It was a kind of a joke.
That was a joke? Aren’t those supposed to be funny?
I groaned. Until she said, Where would you like to meet?
One very dirty martini later, the tightness that had bound my chest all day finally inched loose. I’d needed to talk to someone about Freddie, and Elanie cared just enough to listen, but not enough to offer advice, and she would never tell another soul if I asked her not to.
“You love him?” She asked this with a genuine curiosity, like she wanted to know in what possible equation variable A and variable B would combine to produce the solution of two beings falling in love.
I nodded, plopping the olive from my second martini into my mouth. “Unfortunately.”
“What does it feel like? Being in love? ”
“Right now,” I said. “It’s a bit like an icepick through the heart.”
“What?” she blurted out, incredulous. “Why in the worlds would anyone want to feel like they were being stabbed in the heart?”
I was being sarcastic, but Elanie was not. So I answered her question as honestly as I could. “The problem with love, darling, is that it doesn’t feel this way all the time. It always hurts, at least a little. But only because it’s so precious. You don’t want anything bad to happen to it. Because when you’re in love, you get to experience feelings that are so much bigger than that little hurt.”
She leaned in so close I was a little worried she’d fall off her barstool. “What kind of feelings?”
“Excitement, for one,” I said. “The way your heart thumps and your breath catches when you see each other. It’s intoxicating. And then there’s the comfort of knowing you’ve found another soul in the universe who sees you, really sees you—that to them, you matter.” I took her hand, a bit surprised that she let me. “It is important to feel like we matter, Elanie. Also the joy. It is a joyous thing, being in love. Being loved in return. And when it’s true, it should be cherished.”
“But it isn’t true love with Freddie? It isn’t comforting or exciting or joyous?”
Releasing her hand, I downed the rest of my martini, then forced myself to say a heart-wrenchingly dishonest “no.”
Letting myself get tipsy before a work function with special guests was something I would typically never do. Thankfully, the Kravaxians weren’t opposed to alcohol. After the main course, we were all a bit soused. All except for Rax and Morgath, standing stalwart by the door, their arms crossed, their scowls menacing. And Elanie, who would rather shave her head and eat her own hair than lose an ounce of control over herself in public.
Tig and Reya seemed to be getting along at least, talking all through dinner with bright smiles. Tano and Marisia had spent most of the night in silence, occasionally joining Chan and Freddie in whatever they were talking about. I didn’t know. I couldn’t look in Freddie’s direction without reality shouldering its way into my buzz. So I spent my time chatting with Axel.
“How long have you worked on this ship?” he asked, swirling the Ulaperian red in his glass.
Not wanting to subject myself to the worst hangover of my thirties after no sleep in more than twenty-four hours and two martinis on an empty stomach, I took a sip of my vitoWater and said, “Going on five years.”
“What did you do before?”
I didn’t mean to glance to the side. I didn’t mean to lock gazes with Freddie for a breathless moment. I didn’t know he’d already been looking at me. “I worked on another LunaCorp ship,” I said, suddenly too warm. “One across the wormhole that traveled between New Earth and Mercury. How about you?” I raised my glass to my lips. “What did you do before LunaCorp snatched you up for BLIX?”
“Deep-space piracy, of course,” he said with a wink.
I choked on my water.
When Axel touched my shoulder, I heard Freddie cough across the table. “I’m only joking,” he explained with a low chuckle. “Customs. I worked in customs. ”
“I see,” I said, clearing my throat. “So you allowed all the pirated goods to come into your planet legally, then.”
His low chuckle matured into a genuine laugh. “That sounds about right.”
As I talked with Axel, I felt Freddie watching me still. Occasionally, unable to help myself, I watched him too, finding his lips pressed flat, his jaw clenched, his knuckles turning white around the glass of whiskey in his hand whenever I laughed at something Axel said. All of it made me feel unfairly awful. As messed up as I was, I didn’t want to hurt Freddie. I didn’t want him to think I might be interested in another being. Because that would be a truly terrible thing to do to someone a person supposedly cared about.
When dinner came to an end, I walked the Kravaxians back to their suites. Axel’s suite was located farthest down the hall, so by the time we reached his door, we were alone.
“Thank you.” He grinned down at me. “You’ve all been very kind to us.”
“My pleasure,” I said with a small nod that left me dizzy. A profound exhaustion swirled around me like mist. Through the bleary fatigue, I sent him the link to my VC. “If you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to contact me.”
He stared at me long enough, meaningfully enough, that I wondered if he would make a pass. I also wondered how I’d gone so quickly from being a woman who would have been thrilled when a handsome new guest showed interest in me, found me desirable, offered me an easy night or two of escape in the palm of their hand, to one who simply…wasn’t. I suppose I needed a new hobby. When my subconscious suggested puzzles, I gave it the finger.
In the end, thankfully, Axel didn’t make a pass. He only nodded back and said, “Good night, Sunny.”
The next few days passed by in a blur. Security on the senator and her family remained a top priority, but the crew had relaxed considerably now that we knew the Kravaxians hadn’t come to scuttle the ship and vent everyone aboard her into space. Even Rax and Morgath had behaved themselves while training Axel and Tano in LunaCorp security protocols. Chan and his mentee, Marisia, got on as well as could be expected, considering the woman never spoke, as far as I could tell—and considering Chan kept running off to have lunch or afternoon tea with Makenna.
And Tig and Reya, well, I’d never seen Tig so excited about spending time with another being. As for me, scheming endless possible whoops, this innocent picnic under the willows in the atrium is actually a date –type scenarios for them was a surprisingly effective distraction.
Speaking of which, Freddie had given me all the space I’d asked for. He hadn’t commed or tried to contact me on Squee or tried to speak to me at all unless it was something work related, and even then, he’d been efficient, all business. Hurt still hung behind his eyes, though. It hurt me too, like pressing on a bruise. But he’d respected my request, like he always had and probably always would. And every day that passed, a voice—quiet at first, but growing louder—spoke up inside me: Maybe, just maybe, you’ve got it all wrong.
I needed to talk to him. I owed it to both of us. But not today. Because today, I woke up with the weight of a planet slamming into my chest, pushing me back down into my bed. Smothering me.
Today was the anniversary.