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CHAPTER 28

Elisa tossed her phone to the side in frustration. So far, the best job she could find was working for her parents selling off the family’s household goods. Modeling? First of all, there were very few talent agencies starting up. And supermodels from the freaking sixties now looked like they were twenty again!

“Before you toss me away like that, you have someone who’d like to talk,” Adam said.

“Who?” Elisa asked. Surrounded by spaceships and she was about to offer . . . that just to get a ride.

“A gentleman looking for a girlfriend,” Adam answered. “At the moment he just wants to talk.”

“That is kind of vague,” Elisa said.

“You gave me some fairly vague suggestions,” Adam pointed out. “He fits virtually none of them except he is outdoorsy and is doing okay financially in this environment.”

“So, not a great catch,” Elisa said.

“He fits virtually none of them because you were lying to me about most of them,” Adam said. “He’s a better actual fit for you than you’d like to admit.”

“Oh, really!” Elisa said.

“Oh. Really. Just talk to the guy. You busy or something?”

“Snark will get you . . . ” Elisa said, frowning.

“He’s currently on the planet,” Adam said. “It’s his fifth trip.”

“WHAT?” Elisa snapped, picking up the phone. “Put him on! Put him on!”

“His name is Jason Graham,” Adam said. “Connecting.”

Jason was . . . okay looking. Not super handsome. But he had a nice smile.

“Hi,” Jason said. “Uh, wait a second, okay, I need to get in some shade to see better.”

Elisa got a vague impression of what looked like palm trees in the background. The top of the shade was what looked like palm fronds.

“Where are you?” Elisa asked.

“Uh . . . ” Jason stopped and grinned sheepishly. “The Graham Islands?”

“And your name is . . . ” Elisa said, raising an eyebrow.

“I know, I know,” Jason said, shrugging. “But I hadn’t named anything else after myself and I like ’em. They’re in the Pallas Ocean. Which is awesome, by the way. Wait a sec . . . ”

The view swung around to show the ocean and what was obviously a barrier reef about a hundred yards from shore. Inland was standard tropical paradise, complete with what looked like a flash of a waterfall.

Elisa tried not to either scream or cry.

Then the phone centered in on one of the ugliest things she’d ever seen. She knew what it was, a land crab. But it was still startling.

“Hang on,” Jason said, swinging the phone back around to face him. “Jewel, God damnit, I thought those things were supposed to be kept back a hundred meters?”

“Sorry,” a female voice answered. “Hi, Elisa, I’m Jewel, Jason’s AI. Jason, it just slipped through the perimeter. The drones are all busy picking up other ones . . . ”

“Sorry, sorry,” Jason said. “I gotta get this thing . . . ”

A black tentacle of flexmet flashed out then he lifted the scrabbling crab into the air and dropped it into a case.

“Sorry, sorry,” Jason said, bringing the phone back around. “Hi, I’m Jason Graham. Elisa Randall, right?”

“Yes,” Elisa said. “How many of those are there?”

“Hey, it’s better than the first place I dropped,” Jason said. “I was just thinking what a beautiful planet we’d been gifted when a seventy-foot crocodile showed up.”

“That’s awesome,” Elisa said. “What’d you do?”

“I shot it?” Jason said. “What else was I gonna do?”

“So, are you a colonist?” Elisa asked.

“Uh, no,” Jason said. “I’m a partner in a foods company. Right now, it’s all natural, totally organic, picked dew-fresh from the wilds of Bellerophon,” Jason said in an announcer voice. “Because that’s what’s available! I was there for a shrimp run. We ended up shipping a bunch of croc meat.”

“If it tastes anything like alligator, I’m in,” Elisa asked.

“You like gator?” Jason asked.

“Right now, I’d eat anything to avoid print food,” Elisa said, then grimaced. “That came out sounding wrong.”

Her mother always told her to think before she spoke.

“I heff no idea about which you speak,” Jason said in a bad German accent. “Anglish not my first language is.”

“Okay, Yoda,” Elisa said, smiling.

“How about some fresh-out-of-the-sea crayfish?” Jason asked. “But you’ve got to eat it down here.”

Elisa stuck her tongue in her cheek and considered her words . . . 

“I’m not one of those girls who . . . ” Elisa said carefully.

“No strings,” Jason interjected hastily. “We’ve got a ship headed down in two days. No passengers on that trip. Free ride up and back. Just . . . would you like to spend a few days in a tropical paradise? Admittedly, you have to take a shower in a waterfall. Sorry. No indoor plumbing.”

“I can shower in a waterfall,” Elisa said sagely. “What I was about to say is that I’m not one of those girls who turns tricks by the hour . . . ”

“I am aware,” Jason said.

“But for fresh lobster and a ride off this tin can?” Elisa said. “I’m not guaranteeing that I’m going to tear your clothes off when I arrive . . . but it’s a possibility.”

* * *

“Cade,” Dummy said.

Cade woke up. His muscle memory hadn’t transplanted naturally to this new, or refreshed, body, but his sleeping powers had. He knew instantly that it was the middle of the night, that he’d fallen asleep watching Hondo and had slept several hours. He listened for a few seconds and knew he could hear Mabel and Abby breathing.

But not Sam.

“Is it about Sam?” he asked his AI.

If forced to render judgment, he would have admitted that the AI had turned out to be useful. But since no one was forcing him to commit, he continued to contain his AI behind a sexless, nameless mannequin face.

“Sam’s been arrested,” Dummy said. “Bail has been set at five credits, and I have been instructed to notify you.”

Cade climbed into his overalls and shoes. When the door irised open, Mabel whispered, “Isn’t it too early to be watering your cabbage?”

“It’s Sam,” he told her. “I’ll go get him. Go back to sleep.”

Dummy led him straight to the police station. With different images on its flexscreens, it might have been used as a restaurant or even a church. But the outside displayed severe lines and the titles PEGASUS POLICE and PRECINCT C-153.

Inside, Cade fumbled his way through a conversation with a front desk sergeant (Dummy tried to help, until Cade threatened to shut it off) and was eventually directed to someone whose title was “penal clerk.” A young woman sat on a flexmet bench in the corner of the office, staring at the wall. She was a dark-haired, dark-eyed beauty in jeans and an off-center, baggy sweater, but Cade ignored her. Keeping his voice low as if warding off embarrassment, he paid Sam’s bail to the meatball-faced clerk, and got in return information about Sam’s court date.

Then an officer led Cade back into the cells.

Sam and another young man sat, rumpled and reeking of alcohol, in a shared cell. The other young man was unconscious; Sam saw Cade and stood as he entered.

The officer set about unlocking the cell.

“I know you’re disappointed, Dad.”

“You hit a fellow,” Cade said. “Since I punched you, not a week ago, I guess I can’t say the apple has fallen too far from the tree.”

Sam laughed, then rubbed his jaw as if it hurt from the movement.

“I think you’d have punched him yourself, Dad.”

“Oh yeah? Was he aggressing someone’s carrots?”

“He was aggressing a girl,” Sam said. “A very nice young lady whose name I unfortunately never got.”

“Maybe Thog got her AI’s number,” Cade suggested. “Let’s go pick up your personal effects and see. Or Abby can help you look in the social channels. Or Pastor Mickey might know her. Or you and I can go door to door like Mormons. ‘We’re here to see your young women!’”

“That’s an awful lot of help you’re offering for a girl you haven’t even seen.”

“I don’t care about helping her,” Cade said. “I’m offering help to my son, whom I punched in the face, like a jackass.”

The penal clerk already had Sam’s AI in a plastic envelope waiting on the counter. Sam picked Thog up, turned around, and then saw the girl sitting on the bench.

She stood.

“I came to say sorry,” she said. “And thank you.”

Sam rubbed his jaw.

“I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

“Also,” she added, “my name is Ana.”

* * *

“Tom Ferrell,” the pilot said, waving to a seat. “Take a load off.”

“I am not going to scream,” Elisa said as she sat down at the control console.

“Afraid of flying?” Tom asked quizzically. “There’s virtually no motion and it’s very safe.”

“I’m not going to scream because it looks like a scene out of one of my favorite video games,” Elisa said. “And I’m not going to scream because I’m actually going into space. And I’m not going to scream because I’m headed to a tropical paradise and I just hope the guy is as nice as he seems.”

“Oh,” Tom said, smiling. “Jason is a very cool guy. I’m sure he’ll be . . . fine?”

“I’m not one of those girls,” Elisa said primly. “He just seems like a nice guy, I’ve been promised lobster and it’s a free ride to the planet!”

“Did you hear about what greeted him on arrival?” Tom asked.

“The croc?” Elisa said, nodding. “But apparently there’s no such issues on the islands. And, frankly, I’d have shot it, too.”

“You shoot?” Tom asked.

“My eighteenth birthday present was a safari in Africa,” Elisa said.

“How . . . what was your favorite song in high school?” Tom asked.

“That doesn’t work as well past a certain point because of streaming,” Elisa said, smiling. “‘Holding Out for a Hero’ by Bonnie Tyler.”

“Oh, okay,” Tom said.

“Followed by ‘Oops! . . . I Did It Again,’ by Britney Spears and I still love ‘Baby Shark,’” Elisa said. “I’m actually this age.”

“Ooooh,” Tom said, nodding.

“You?” Elisa asked.

“Frank Sinatra,” Tom said. “’Cause that was what was on something called a ‘radio.’”

“Radio . . . ” Elisa said thoughtfully. “Ray-dee-oh . . . What is . . . this thing called radio? Is that like FM?”

“AM back in my high school days,” Tom said, chuckling. “FM was high-tech. Still military only.”

“Seriously?” Elisa asked.

“FM didn’t come in until the 1960s,” Tom said. “It was the new high-fidelity sound. Which was full of scratches and snow. But clearer than AM.”

“Squeee!” Elisa squealed as they cleared the exit corridor. “We’re in space! Are we really in space? These screens are very realistic but you could just be working with some powerful rich man to kidnap me and this is all an illusion. Prove we’re in space! No, don’t! ’Cause that would require evacuating the compartment. I don’t want to die!”

“You’ve got thirty seconds to put on the space suit,” Tom said, gesturing over his shoulder. “That’s something they’ll probably mandate be explained at some point by a required flight attendant.”

“Where are they?” Elisa asked. “Just in case.”

“The box marked ‘Space Suits,’” Tom said. “Know that MCU movie where the space suits are just something you slap on?”

“Yes.”

“It’s like that,’ Tom said. “The real safety feature is that in the event of that bad of an emergency, which is nearly impossible to occur, the seat turns into a stasis box and you’re ejected to be picked up later. I’m reliably informed that it can survive reentry and even hitting the ground on Bellerophon.”

“That’s . . . a good safety system,” Elisa said. “When do we see the planet? I’ll assume that although there is no feeling of motion that has to do with the stabilizers and not because this is all a trick. Though my parents are expecting a call when I land. Just saying.”

“You don’t seriously think you’re being kidnapped, do you?” Tom said.

“No,” Elisa said. “I’m just joking around. But it feels so surreal. I’ve wanted to go into space since I was a kid. A kid, kid. Eight, nine. Is that Bellerophon through the port?”

“It is,” Tom said. “Which will get bigger and bigger as we approach.”

Elisa thought about pointing out that it was an optical illusion, but she assumed he knew that. Count to ten, Elisa.

“You said Jason’s a nice guy?” Elisa said. “Do you know him very well?”

“I’m sort of his go-to ride,” Tom said. “I dropped another load for this one ’cause he asked. He said there was a passenger. I assumed it was one of his people. Not . . . lady friend.”

“People?” Elisa asked. “He’s been sort of . . . He hasn’t really talked about people . . . ”

“His company has been dropping harvest teams all over the planet,” Tom said. “I’ve dropped . . . ten I think? Plus picking up loads. Some of them actually dropped. They’ve been experimenting with dropping at altitude and letting the containers and tractors handle getting the gear into place then doing rapid loads high. Not as high as the drops but two or three thousand feet.”

“Seriously?” Elisa said, her eyes wide.

“He’s former airborne,” Tom said. “He’s like ‘You can drop anything. Once.’”

“I take it we’ll be actually, you know, landing?” Elisa asked. “And I won’t just get tossed out the airlock?”

“Day’s young,” Tom said with a shrug then laughed. “You will most definitely be fully landed on the ground.”

“Wheeee!” Elisa said as they entered the port. “Bellerophon, sweet Bellerophon, I am coming to you!” She stretched out her hands to the planet in longing. “It’s been calling to me, begging me to visit!”

“Has it?” Tom said.

“It has,” Elisa said, sighing as they cleared the port. She was watching the traffic as well. “The reason I’m so . . . ” She waved her hands in the air.

“Giddy as a schoolgirl?” Tom said.

“I’m a total sci-fi fan,” Elisa said. “Like, books and movies mostly. Though I used to go to anime cons doing cosplay.”

“Before the Transfer?” Tom asked.

“I quit when I was sixteen,” Elisa said. “Just got out of the anime phase. But I was considering majoring in astronomy when I was in college. I wanted to find a habitable planet. Not terraformed. I realized it wouldn’t, probably, be very habitable. But something with some vaguely breathable atmosphere. Decent gravity. A new world . . . And now this!”

“So, pretty excited,” Tom said.

“Giddy,” Elisa said, waving her hands around. “The stars. Pegasus,” she added, gesturing toward the star to their right. “And now I’m going to a new planet. One built for humanity. I love hunting, fishing, diving . . . There’s too many things that I like. So as a sci-fi fan, I think the station is cool. Spaceships running around are cool. But now I’m going to the planet.”

She paused again and frowned.

“So, Jason is cool?” she asked. “He seems cool. We talked for hours. But . . . ”

“First dates are tough,” Tom said. “Yes, he’s cool. Crazy. But he’s a nice guy.”

“Crazy is okay,” she said.

“Really?” Tom said. “Have you seen the video of him and the crocodile . . . ?”

* * *

“Just be cool,” Jewel whispered. “And don’t keep explaining everything. And don’t say ‘This is awkward’ or ‘Uhm . . . ’ or ‘Okay . . . ?’”

“I can do without dating advice from a piece of silicon,” Jason said, trying to look confident.

Tom had already switched out conexes and now swung around to hover over the lagoon, bringing the landing stairs down to just touch the shore.

Elisa didn’t bother with most of the stairs. She leapt off the platform at the top, hit one stair and hit the ground. Then she turned around, briefly, to wave at the ship and sprinted into a hug that made Jason go: “Oof.”

“I don’t care if you’re not a hugger!” Elisa screamed. “Oh, My God! Oh, My God! Oh, My God! I am out of that can and this is fantastic! AAAAAAH!”

She spun around in circles waving fists in the air then stopped.

“Hello, good sir,” she said primly, holding out her hand gracefully and speaking in a Carolina Coastal accent. “Elisa Randall. What a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Mister Graham, I presume?”

“Hello, Miss Randall,” Jason said, shaking her hand. “As a matter of fact, I am a hugger.”

“Wheee!” Elisa said, hugging him again.

She was quite squeezable. And even shorter than she’d seemed on the video. Five foot two, blonde, blue eyes—she was perfect. A bit too perfect.

He and Jewel had had a bit of a discussion on that subject. She was actually eighteen.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Elisa said, stepping back and pulling off her top to reveal the top of an American flag bikini. She toed off her shoes, pulled off her shorts then thumbed at the water. “Last one in’s a rotten egg!”

With that she sprinted into the water then into a dive.

“Well, alrighty then,” Jason said, pulling off his shirt. He’d prepared a lunch, too much lunch honestly, but it was in a stasis container. “Swim first answers that question . . . ”

* * *

“Charleston girl,” Elisa said, holding her hands above her head in a V. “Sunny beaches. At least in summer.”

“Guess being in Carolina is okay by you,” Jason said, sculling backward in the water.

“Carolina girl,” Elisa said, breast stroking over to him with a look Jason could only describe as “calculation” on her face. Then her eyes flew wide. “Oh, snap!”

“What?” Jason said.

“I promised my parents I’d call them when I landed and say I was okay,” Elisa said. “ADAM!”

“Your mother has been informed that you dashed into the water immediately,” Adam said. “Want me to put her through?”

“Yes! Gimme a second . . . ”

* * *

“Woo,” Elisa said. “I’m a legal adult with my own compartment, courtesy of Our Robotic Overlords. But my parents still worry and I still care.”

“That’s a good thing,” Jason said. “Both.”

“I apologized,” Elisa said.

“I’m sort of surprised that . . . ” Jason said, shrugging. “You seem like you’re conservative. I’m surprised I didn’t have to talk to your father.”

“My dad’s not quite that old-fashioned,” Elisa said. “He’s Gen X. Younger than you. Which is . . . fine. But I was going somewhere before I realized I’d forgotten to call . . .  Oh, yeah . . . 

“I have a strict rule about guys and . . . you know. Hooking up, however you want to put it.”

“Which is?” Jason asked.

“Not unless I’m pretty sure he’s marriage material,” Elisa said. “Which hasn’t been many guys. Two, to be honest. ’Cause the first one was because I thought we were getting married.”

“I’m not going to do the count at this point in our relationship,” Jason said.

“But this makes me reconsider Rule One,” Elisa said, grinning. “Because you do seem cool. I wasn’t sure. Guys can be big fakes even over video.”

“I’m terrible at faking anything,” Jason said. “Like I said when we talked, one of my big problems is honesty.”

“We’ll see,” Elisa said. “Does this bathing suit make me look fat?” she asked, pushing up her breasts.

“Now you’re just teasing,” Jason said. “Never tease an old dog. He might have one bite left.”

“So, I have gotten salt water on me, gotten sun on my skin and called my parents,” she said, sculling away backward. “Feeling like a total gold digger: Is there lobster?”

“Sorry,” Jason said, making a long face. “We had to ship it all out. Business, you know . . . ”

“You’d better be kidding,” Elisa said. “Please tell me you’re kidding. I’ll go get some by hand. I like bugging . . . ”

“There’s only coconut land crab,” Jason said. “And grilled Sorta Snapper.”

“Sorta grilled?” Elisa asked.

“Sorta Snapper,” Jason said. “New species. That’s its name ’cause it tastes sort of like snapper. It’s actually a wrasse.”


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