Page 23 of Captain Santiago and the Sky Dome Waitress
What on Glave’s grave were you thinking? The thought pinged and bounced around his mind, scattering any chance to think normally. She was in shock. Vulnerable. Just because she looks like Blake—
But shedidn’tlook like Blake! Not anymore. When had that changed? It had been well over a week since she had stepped off his ship, and every time he had looked at her, the agony had made his heart squeeze and his breath stop.
But he had been looking at her every morning he was in the city, watching her pour coffee and deal with customers, her hair up in that ridiculous top knot that left tendrils loose about her face, which had the effect of softening everything about her. The high cheekbones and pointed chin became mere highlights among lovely, smooth feminine features. Sometimes she laughed softly…not the belly laugh that Blake had used. And often, she blushed. It was endearing, that blush. She would bring the pad up to her face, as if she would hide behind it if it was just a little larger.
She wore skirts and dresses, never pants. She favored soft, pastel colors and lace edges.
She was right-handed, and Blake had been left-handed.
Lucie. Even her name was a good fit.
Elijah came to a halt in the middle of the Messe, just before it turned into the main plaza, puzzling over what had just revealed itself to him.
He had been watching her enough to get to know her. If Lucie and Blake were to stand side by side, he would have no trouble telling them apart, even if they wore identical clothing. They were utterly unique, both of them.
When a man ran into him from behind, then breathlessly apologized with fear in his eyes when he realized who he had rammed, Elijah got himself moving once more. This time, using slower steps.
It didn’t matter. None of it mattered. He would be morally wrong to attempt to pursue anything with the girl. She was barely out of the nursery, for stars’ sake. Then, before he knew he was going to do it, he said in a conversational voice, “Barney, directional sound only. Can you hear me?”
“Yes, Captain.” Barney’s voice had the wavering quality that told Elijah that he was projecting his voice so that no one around Elijah could hear anything but the tiny sound a breeze might make.
“How long has Lucie Jelen been a Varkan?” Elijah asked.
Barney’s hesitation was long enough that Elijah recognized the dilemma he’d put the city mind into.
“It’s public information,” Elijah added. “I could dig it up myself, but you can do it faster. If you don’t want to give me the information, that’s fine. I’ll get Allison to do it.”
“Lucie graduated from the Darwin Third Echelon Creche nine years, eleven months and two days ago, sir.”
“Thank you. That is all.”
“Yes, sir.” Barney’s voice contained a note that Elijah though might be surprise. What about their exchange was surprising?
So, Lucie wasn’t a complete tyro. Nearly ten years of experience had rubbed off the awkward corners all new Varkan had. But in many ways she was naïve. Was that because of the nursery? A third echelon creche…that said she had paid her own way, with no sponsors to ensure she got the best rehabilitationand training. No one had offered her their DNA, and she hadn’t been able to afford tailored gene expression, either.
Clearly, she had found a way to earn her living, after that, but not enough to tour with any luxury. An extended stay here had forced her to find a job to cover her expenses. And he was the reason she had been compelled to stay here. If he hadn’t reacted to her the way he had in the docking bay, she would have boarded his ship the next Thursday and been long gone.
That would have been the better alternative, Elijah decided. Then he reconsidered. The reminder of Blake didn’t send searing bolts of pain through him, anymore. He should be grateful for that.
He could even speak about her. He had nearly spoken her name to Lucie, before he managed to shut himself down. Blake was part of a dangerous period in his life that was long over. He was a respectable captain of an interstellar ship now, the owner of a fleet of them, and richer than he’d ever imagined was possible.
So why did his day stretch ahead of him, banal and empty?
~ 9 ~
“Run it from the beginning again,” Lucie told the screen. She put her feet up on the bed, and picked up her bowl and spoon.
“Repeating,” the androgynous computer voice confirmed.
The video flickered, then the big transit hall reappeared, with its multiple billboards flashing advertisements in between departure and arrive announcements. The security feed had been taken from high up above the travelers passing across the hall, or paused to study schedules or look for directions.
At the edge of the hall was a short arc of amenities, including a self-serve café with small tables jutting out into the hall.
Because this was a replay of the video, the computer followed the same instructions as before. It zoomed in on the table where Blake sat, a steaming beverage in front of her, and a pad in one hand, and her pack on the ground between her feet, where a snatcher would have difficulty grabbing it. She looked every centimeter the composed, experienced traveler that she was.
But the camera caught her quick glances up and around, as she scanned the hall. Lucie had decided that Blake was watching for both friends and foes.
Elijah settled on the chair at the next table, so that his shoulder was level with hers, but he was facing the other way. They didn’t look at each other.
