Page 12 of Starrily
Calliope was staring at a dense text document on her computer and swiveled around in her chair. “You—you could’ve left more than a second before knocking and barging in.”
So they were starting on the left foot again.
“I could.” He shrugged. “Would that make you frown less?”
She frowned and turned back to the computer. “Seven billion people in the world, and I keep being stuck with you.”
He helped himself to a chair at the end of her working desk. “At least this time, death isn’t imminent, as you put it.”
She grunted softly and focused her attention on work. Simon’s eyes wandered around the office. It was a small space with a single window—just enough room for a working desk and somechairs. He’d expected it to be clean, clinical, even; instead, it was kind of a mess. Papers and folders lay on the desk in disorder. Post-it notes covered the sides of her monitor, as well as a calendar and a print of space hanging on the wall. Two mugs and a pot with a tiny cactus wrapped in a knitted red scarf only added to the disarray. The place felt strangely warm and homely. No pictures of family members, or people at all, but there was one of a beige cat with vivid blue eyes, wearing a little Santa hat.
I know that breed. It’s a Birman.
Simon shook off the thought and redirected his attention to the owner of the office, remembering his task. Calliope wasn’t a bad-looking woman—rather attractive, actually, when she wasn’t frowning, which he assumed wouldn’t happen often in his presence. Her mustard-colored sweater flattered her—it brought out a golden undertone in her brown skin. She’d worn something mustard-colored yesterday, too; she must like the color. But even more interesting was the scarf she wore—silk, or something similarly smooth and light—in shades of dark blue, with an artistic print of planets and stars.
“My eyes are up here,” she suddenly said, making him flinch.
“I was looking at your scarf,” he explained. “It gives the wrong impression.”
“Of what?”
“Your personality.”
She huffed and turned her head back to the computer, her braids brushing her shoulders.
On the zero gravity trip, she’d worn her hair loose. When they were in free fall, those luscious locks floated around her like a siren underwater. In fact, she was just like a siren: when she opened her mouth, he wanted to jump off this ship.
A knock sounded on the door, and after Calliope’s prompt, the dark-haired head of a young woman popped in. She scanned theroom, looking from Calliope to Simon. “Hi.” She nearly sang the word. “I’m the journalist?”
“Oh. Yes,” Calliope said stiffly.
The woman squeezed through the door and offered her hand to Calliope first. “Jessica Lim. But you may call me Jess, Jessie, J … well, not Jessie J, I think that one’s taken.” She giggled.
“Mmh,” Calliope said.
“And you are Simon Montague.” Jessica turned to him with a broad smile and bright eyes. “I’ve always wanted to meet you. Well, not always, that would be weird, if I’d been born with the desire. But I’ve wanted to interview you for years now. Could I ask you some questions?”
“Don’t you want to talk to Dr. Guidry first?”
“Oh, we’ll have plenty of time to talk. The column is calledA Year in Life of a Scientist, notA Day.” Jessica laughed.
“A year?” Calliope’s voice trembled.
“I’ll explain everything.” Jessica waved her hand. “Mr. Montague, may I ask—what inspired you to invest in the Selene mission? I know you cultivate several adrenaline-filled hobbies; do you see going to the Moon as just another challenge? Or are you considering blending the technologies developing in QueLabs with a new project in Aries? Are you ever under pressure, feeling like you have to keep innovating, even if the product is already perfect? When you made Forbes’30 under 30list, did you feel like that was the pinnacle of your career—”
If Calliope’s eyebrows could rise any higher they, too, would be on their way to the Moon.
“First off, please, call me Simon.” He gently steered Jessica toward the chair he’d vacated and leaned on the closed door. “Well, you know …” How was he going to bullshit his way out of this one? “There are a great many reasons to be inspired by the work at QueLabs and their Selene mission. Humanity always strives to achieve better, whether it’s figuring out how to travelfurther into space, or improving the technology we use in our daily lives.”
It was hard to say whether Calliope looked unimpressed because it washimgiving the answer or because of how vapid the answer itself was. But Jessica was rapidly typing things into her phone, seemingly pleased with it.
“And speaking of the fine folks as QueLabs, why doesn’t Dr. Guidry explain what they do?” He gestured to Calliope.
“Yes, of course.” Jessica redirected her attention, fingers hovering over her phone, waiting.
Calliope stammered, squeezing the plush moon pendant she’d pulled out of her pocket. “You said ayearin a life?”
“Oh. Right. Silly me. I didn’t explain anything.” Jessica smiled at Simon again. “I study the work and life of a chosen professional in a chosen field for a longer period so the readers can see what their work looks like. That includes the person’s hobbies, social life, and so on. Makes the articles more relatable to the readers, and more fun.”
