Page 130 of Tempted by Celestial Bodies

“I was training as a protector before your last visit,” he reminds me. “Since last longnight, I’ve successfully repelled twenty-nine swordbeak attacks on foraging parties.” He sounds like he’s used to reciting his résumé defensively.

Plenty of hybrids have jobs at the resort. I’m sure he’s qualified. However, I’m surprised the embassy would entrust their governor’s daughter’s safety to a man who represents the opposing side of the dispute I’ve come here to resolve.

“I’m not worried about animals,” I say. “What about people?”

Jalus blinks. “I’m not sure what you’re implying, Lady Sinead. The people of Eiris are peaceful. Do you expect an attack from your own embassy?”

I lean in to whisper in Cecily’s ear. “This isn’t going to work. Get me someone else.”

Cecily cups her hand over her mouth to hiss back, “There is no one else, my lady. He was the only applicant.So stop being mean to him before he changes his mind.”

I paste on a smile. “Fine. Let’s just go.”

“This way, my lady.”

This way, Nade! Come see this!

I blink away the memory of his childish smile, now nowhere to be seen. This isn’t ten years ago. I’m not here to explore while Dad holds diplomatic meetings. We’re both adults with jobs to do.

And my job is to bully his people into letting my father take what he wants from this planet.

The walkway from the spaceport to the resort is lined with little color-changing solar lights. The memory of how enchanted I felt walking this path for the first time brings a smile to my lips. The lighter gravity makes each step feel almost like floating.

Dad made me do a special lesson on Eiris before our last visit, so I know that the trees towering over me are called “Giant’s Embrace.” Eiris’s landmass is one large megacontinent with vast lakes dotted across it, and there’s hardly anywhere the trees haven’t claimed. They’re as tall as Hepburn City skyscrapers, draped with pinkish moss, and their trunks are thick enough that a starship could park inside a hollow log. The upward-curving branches give the illusion they’re reaching toward Eiris’s binary suns.

Tourism contributes a significant chunk of the planetary economy, since the hybrid communities live off the abundant natural resources and refuse to farm, manufacture, or mine anything. It’s Dad’s favorite rant: he can’t tax people who don’t use money. Which means the Emperor’s “gift” of governorship is frustratingly hard for my father to use as a means to enrich himself. The resort at least draws a steady stream of tourists for the novelty of living suspended in trees.

But Dad never gave up trying other tactics.

Jalus frowns as he tilts his head back. I follow his gaze and spot the zipline above our heads, strung between two massive trees at least five stories up. The branches have been pruned back to make way for the zipline, allowing a rare patch of sunlight to fall on the path below.

“What?” I ask. Does the guy hate fun?

“The trees.” Jalus doesn’t take his eyes from them as he speaks. “They’re injured.”

I snort. “What, a little pruning? It’s good for them.”

“That may be true of the trees from other worlds,” Jalus says. “The trees of Eiris mourn if they are cut.” His eyes meet mine, deep and plummy.

I’m not used to people towering over me like he does. It’s making me feel weird and unbalanced. I clear my throat and look away. “So I take it you’re on the side of my father’s opposition?”

“My loyalty lies with my Kin.” There’s no anger in his tone, but I shiver nonetheless. The hybrids call themselves Kin, but they consider all life forms on this planet their extended family.

“Then why volunteer to protect me, if you support my opponents?”

“The Kin aren’t your enemies,” Jalus says firmly. “We may protest a governor’s bad decision, push for him to change his mind—but those aren’t violent or dangerous actions. We’re only trying to protect what can’t speak for itself.”

“The trees.” We’ve reached the pulley platform that will raise us high into the branches. I step onto it and turn to face Jalus. “You talk about them like they’re alive.”

“Of course they’re alive.” He gives me a pitying look that strikes a spark of anger in my chest.

“I don’t mean—” My skin prickles. I pull in a deep breath.Do not go mega-glitch on him. “I meantsentient. Like they understand what’s happening.”

“Do you think they don’t?”

“They’re trees,” I say. “Trees can’t think.”

“You’re still thinking of your domesticated, Earth-bred trees,” Jalus says. There’s a note of sorrow in his voice. “Again, they aren’t the same.”

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