Page 4 of Adrift!
“A way to pass the time.” His half-moon irises spun once, as if focusing on her. “Just an idea.”
Why had she put that in her profile when it was the life she was leaving behind? At the time, she hadn’t known what else would fill in that blank. She’d had no other job, no other experience, no other dream.
“I don’t do that anymore,” she said at last. “Sorry again.”
He gave her a stiff little bow. “That’s too bad. If you have any questions about the accommodations, my comm is also open.” He took a step back toward the door.
Though part of her twitched with curiosity, wondering what sort of entertainment he envisioned with those silvery eyes, she watched him go. And when the door closed between them with a quiet whoosh, she tried to feel happy that she was finally alone.
But if she dug the feelings button out of her pocket, she knew she’d see the lie with her own unenhanced eyes.
Chapter 2
Ikaryo lingered in the hallway, certain Remy would come after him.
During the first two sunsets before they’d been hijacked, he’d noticed how she’d been so attuned to the music he’d selected for the mingling and matching activities. All the Earther women who signed up with the Intergalactic Dating Agency declared themselves open to new experiences—it was kind of a prerequisite for alien romance, after all—but when he’d played an Egmelian love song, he’d seen how Remy lit up in a different way.
Egmelians expressed themselves in five genders and seven octaves, which made their love songs rather complicated, and his augments had caught the enchanted shimmer of her electrodermal response to the intertwining harmonies. Obviously she felt strongly about some things even if she had openly stated her ambivalence about space speed dating.
But even with his lure of music, her door didn’t open again.
So much for his amplified vision. He hadn’t been able to see the energy anomaly, and he’d obviously not seen the real Remy McCoy.
But how did someone choose to leave their closed world, to seize the adventure of an alien romance, and then go hide in their locked room?
Of course therewasthat energy monster problem, not to mention being adrift.
And he knew the temptations of a few bulkheads and a lock or two.
Bothered by his mistake—after all, he’d been hired to cater to the passengers, and instead he’d chased one away—Ikaryostarted down the hall. He needed to reset the salon before the dinner service.
If part of him wished he could stay locked up with the surly, red-haired Earther woman and a bottle of something real… He wasn’t going to turn his enhanced acuity on that impossibility.
Before he rounded the corner, Felicity called out to him, so he paused to let her catch up. Here was an Earther who did not hide, not from danger, not from her feelings.
Although he wasn’t comparing the two women. He had no reason to make note of their “emotional availability”, as the IDA brochure called it. Felicity was his colleague, and even if she wasn’t, he’d registered her body temperature changes when she and the captain were in proximity.
“Any troubles?” Felicity linked an arm through his, and their shared passenger data files synced as they headed for the salon.
He’d asked Remy a similar question. “Nothing unexpected.”
Felicity snorted out a breath. “Fair enough. Mariah offered to lead a knitting meditation circle.”
He considered the context of the translations offered by his implant. “Remy did ask about clean socks.” When Felicity laughed, a pleasant sound to his ears, he added, “But she declined to contribute to any entertainment.”
“I’m not surprised. She got cold feet the moment the hatch closed.”
“Is that why she asked about the socks?”
Felicity blinked at him. “Cold feet means wanting to renege on a commitment. You look so much like an Earther, I forget you’re not.”
He stared back. “All these augments and you forget?”
“If there is one thing Earthers are good at, it’s disregarding the obvious.”
Not wanting to disparage her species, he squeezed her arm in consolation and said, “Earthers also have coffee.”
“Good to know we can offer the universesomething special.” When they reached the salon, she paused in the doorway. “Speaking of, we’ll have to see if Chef can synthesize some coffee bean equivalent. We don’t need caffeine withdrawals on top of a hijacking.”
