He winces. “Yes, I got Praki’s comm. Dremonae, beer, and something called a soap opera from the Homeworld.”
“A soap opera?” I sit up, surprised. “Hang on, your people have soaps too? That’s hilarious.”
“It’s a new invention,” he replies. “The rumor is that it was brought back to the Homeworld from your planet. One of the linguists that studied English for the translators watched hours of your vids to hone his understanding of the English language, got addicted, and decided to replicate them in the High Empire.”
“You’re joking.” I laugh out loud. “Of all the things to import from Earth, you guys pick soap operas? This I have to see.”
“Of course you do.” He sounds resigned.
“You don’t sound enthusiastic about it.”
He smiles at me, slow and lazy. “I have much better ideas about what we could do with our evening.”
Oh. Desire prickles through me, and a shiver of anticipation rolls through my body. “What if we go to the park for a little bit? Maybe we can discreetly question people, see if they know anything about the prison? And then, we’ll come back and do some of the things you have in mind.”
He gives me an amused smile. “Admit it, you aren’t going to the park because of the mission. You just want to see a Zorahn soap opera.”
He knows me well. I beam back at him. “I really do.”
I dress in a pale pink blouse with spaghetti straps and ruffles down the front. It’s very pretty and very feminine. I’m probably too old to be wearing ruffles, but when I saw the blouse in Xeni’s boutique, giant white and pink flowers on a pastel pink sea, I’d fallen in love with it. To counter its frivolousness, I pull on a pair of utilitarian gray pants and tie my hair back in its usual braid. A dash of mascara, eye liner, and lip gloss later, I’m good to go.
The two of us stroll out. The dome is always warm, always the temperature of a perfect summer evening. The park is just outside our door, so there’s no need to hail a skimmer. We walk to the picnic tables, where a crowd of people is milling about.
“Danek,” a familiar voice calls out. “I was hoping to run into you.”
It’s Kenia. Today, the young scientist isn’t wearing the traditional indigo robes. She’s wearing a floaty dress in a shade of forest green, with ruffles all down the front. She looks young and very, very pretty.
She comes up to us. Nodding to me pleasantly, she puts her hand on Danek’s forearm. “I’ve been worried about you,” she says breathlessly. “How do you feel? Is the resonance sickness still bothering you?” She draws closer, her voice lowering. “Do you need another dose of cranisum?”
She’s so close to him that her boobs are practically pressed against his chest. A flash of pure rage slices through me, and I see red.
I’m forty. Even when I was twenty, my body never looked like that. I don’t think I’ve ever been this young, this fresh-faced.
Oh dear God, I’m jealous of Kenia.
And being jealous of Kenia means I’m possessive of Danek. Which is the stupidest thing in the galaxy to feel.
I have no claim on Danek. None at all. We’re sleeping together, but sex doesn’t mean commitment. We’re two people that are on an assignment here, and we’re having sex because we’re attracted to each other. That’s all this is.
She laughs at something he says. I turn away abruptly before I do something I regret and march over to the table holding tubs of dremonae.
Back on Earth, this would be a perfect time to sit on my couch, feel sorry for myself, and polish off an entire tub of Ben & Jerrys. Since I’m not on Earth, I’ll have to settle for all the dremonae I can eat.
Dremonae look like caviar, tiny little colorful bubbles, and they taste like frozen juice pops. I stand in line, and when I reach the table, I fill a bowl with purple, green, and yellow bubbles.
There’s a red-headed man in line in front of me. He fills his bowl as well. We both reach for the yellow bubbles at the same time, our hands colliding. He laughs and waves me ahead. “Sorry about that. I’m Hari.”
“Naomi.”
“We haven’t met, have we?” he asks me. “I’m very bad at remembering faces.”
“Me too,” I tell him. “No, I don’t think so.”
Hari is a talker. “Are you a miner?” he asks curiously.
“No, my bondmate is the safety inspector. We’re newly bonded, so I took some time off and came with him to Noturn.” I nod in the direction of Danek, who is still talking to Kenia. “You?”
“I’m a geologist,” he replies. He tilts his head to one side. “You came to Noturn voluntarily?”
“The vibrations don’t affect me,” I explain.
His head snaps up. “They don’t? How fascinating. Does Kenia know?”
If Kenia doesn’t stop talking to Danek, I might have to scratch her eyes out. “It’s in my file,” I murmur. “She must know. Why?”
“That’s why I’m here,” he explains. “I’m a geologist at the Royal Naturium. The House of Cindifin has recently partnered with us to study Noturn. I’ve been sent to study the planet’s vibrations with a view to blocking its effects on Zorahn.” He pops a blue dremona in his mouth. “To do that, we need to start by measuring them.”
“How do you measure the planet’s vibrations?”
“We’re on the Plains of Kaanir here,” he says. “There are seismographs all around the domes. They’re extremely sensitive.”
A stray thought slams into me. “How sensitive?” Sensitive enough to detect the construction of a dome that will serve as a secret prison?
He holds up a red dremona. “If a rock the size of this treat fell to the ground, my instruments will pick it up.”
Danek comes up to me, his dark eyes glinting. “Hello, love,” he says, wrapping an arm around my waist
