Page 20 of I Dated a Retired Hero

Litha lifted her hand, let her arms float away from her body, and danced. Quick, slow, en pointe, she moved through the spritely music, and then, she folded back into fifth position. “The cow is rusty, so what corrections would you advise?”

“Your movements are stiff, but I suspect that is the suit.”

“Correct. Armour plates.”

The instructor shrugged. “You need to keep dancing.”

“No longer an option, but thank you. I am too old and bitter.” She smiled. “Maybe I should become an instructor.”

The woman laughed, and her softly pleated features flashed. She said, “This one is auditioning in the capitol. Will you give her some tips?”

Litha looked at the young woman, her hair scraped back into a bun. Her slim body in the leotard and tutu. The pointe shoes were well-worn and probably needed replacing. Not everyone could have a version built into their suit.

They went through her practice again. Slowly. The girl asked, “Where did you dance?”

“I was prima ballerina at the capitol for five years, and my name was everywhere, but I had to use a projector for my face. Five years later, I had to get into defending, and that was it for the pointe shoes.”

The girl blinked. “Oh. That was before I was born.”

Litha laughed. “I know. Now, try the jump again, but imagine landing on a daisy and balancing.”

They went through combinations until the girl was grinning but exhausted. “You are worse than madame but so soft-spoken.”

“You don’t need to shout to be heard. You just have to show folks that not listening to you is worse than the alternative.”

The girl smiled and nodded. “I think I am done, and Petrov is watching us.”

“Oh. Shoot. The reason I am here. Forgot. Keep practicing until slow becomes perfect and perfect is natural.”

The girl grinned. “Thank you for this.”

“Thank you for letting me dip a toe in the past.” She hugged the girl and walked over to Petrov.

He stared at her. “You are a dancer.”

“No. Not anymore. Not for fifteen years.” She smiled. “So, shall we go crack into that cylinder?”

“Yes, I suppose. We are trying to make sure that there aren’t any destructive materials in there that will detonate if we open it. Can you deal with that if it happens?”

“It’s the reason I brought the suit. I can eat the power and take it up to dispose of it the way I did the last run.” She looked at him. “Do you want a lift again?”

“Please.”

She stepped behind them, elevated, and caught him under the arms before flying them back to the devastation and charred soil.

They flew over a bank of farm equipment and semis full of straw and manure. They were staged and waiting.No pressure.

She flew to the object and set Petrov down. “What do you want me to do?”

“Can you break it open?”

“Yes. I would rather cut it, though. You might want to step back for that.”

“Of course. May I record you?”

“Sure. My suit is wired with monitors, so a bunch of those will be recording. I can send a feed wherever you want before we get started.”

Petrov smiled. “Well then, may I get your com link?”

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