Page 37 of Bound By Stars

“My drawing is pretty good and you’re up for meeting me without any stipulations? Have you had a med check recently?”

“ILSA is my med check.”

“Right.” He peers over my head toward her. “ILSA, Weslie is acting out of character. Could be space madness.”

“Space madness is a fictional malady created by filmmakers in the twentieth century. Space travel is taxing on the human mind, but—”

“He was making a bad joke, ILSA.”

“Oh. Then yes, I, too, am often concerned with Weslie’s mental state. Ha-ha.” Her robotic laugh is spaced out and over-pronounced. If she were human, it would sound like she was mocking Jupiter, but she faces him with the swoop of a conspiratorial grin across her face screen.

I swear, she’s getting more petulant by the day.

Jupiter erupts with laughter.

Behind him, the blue-haired librarian peers around a shelf from the top of a rolling ladder, lifting one finger from the handle of the feather duster in her hand to press to her lips. Her thick glasses make her eyes look too large, like she’s part owl.

I shrug and point at Jupiter.

He shrinks in his seat and whispers, “Sorry.”

A tall boy with short, dark curls steps out of an aisle. Curran—I think that’s his name. Focused on the tablet in his hand, he stops awkwardly, planted in the open space like he forgot chairs exist. He mindlessly runs the medallion hanging from his neck back and forth along its silver chain.

Jupiter follows my gaze, whisper-yelling to his friend and waving him over.

Curran’s head pops up as though he’s surprised he isn’t alone. With five easy, long-legged steps, he’s at the end of our table. Closer up, his facial features are clearer. His nose is dotted with freckles, similar to mine. Nodding to each of us, his smile is reserved. Kind, but not inviting like Jupiter’s.

ILSA pivots toward Curran. “Hello. I am ILSA. What is your name? My scan indicates that you and Wes—”

“ILSA,” I whisper and then grimace at him.

“She’s intrusive for a bot.” The crease between his eyebrows deepens as he looks her over, his subtle frown equal parts curiosity and wariness.

Jupiter pulls down Curran’s tablet. “Still the family line project? Aren’t you done with that by now?”

His eyes flick to me and then down to the screen. “Pretty much.”

Jupiter moves over, leaving the chair closest to the end of the table free. “Join us.”

“Can’t. I need to get to the gym.” He backs away, waving before he steps through the door.

“What’s his story?”

“Curran? We’ve been best friends since forever. Most honest and loyal person I know. He’s the Nole Corp heir. They’re the oldest family line on Mars, actually. And the largest Big Six company by a long shot. Among other things, they run the DNA databank, which you’d think would make a family history easy, but he’s been working on it since we left Mars.”

“We don’t really keep track of that stuff on Earth.” No reason to be precious about bloodlines when there’s nothing to pass on. I’ve never thought much about family beyond my parents, but people don’t generally live as long on Earth.

“It’s not all that interesting.” Jupiter shrugs, returning to his drawing.

I try to focus, hunting for bugs, but it’s all starting to blend together. Maybe this is not fixable. If I disable the function and take it off her specs list, no one will know I couldn’t figure it out. ButIwill know. The solution should be so simple. It has to be staring me right in the face, so how do I keep missing it?

The library door slides open. A woman barrels through, immediately scanning the room. The same one who nearly ran ILSA and me over in the escape pod bay the night Jupiter got his stupid ass stuck in an airlock.

I turn back to my laptop and Jupiter is gone. Something bumps my knee.

“Did she spot me?”

I scoot back to see under the table.

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