Page 131 of Tempted by Celestial Bodies

I know they’re not. That’s why I’m here.

When Dad’s scientists took samples of lumber from Giant’s Embrace for offworld testing, he was giddy to learn that the wood tested as uniquely sturdy, fire-resistant, and slow to decay. The chemicals the trees secrete, so dangerous when breathed in, harden into an amber-like sheen when the wood is cut and dried.

Dad wants to clear-cut a sample area and try to create a galactic market for this unique building material. It’s a relatively cheap venture to start out, and if it takes off, we could basically print our own credits with the vast resources this planet has to offer.

But the second his lumberjack crew landed here, ready to begin the project, they met fierce resistance from the local communities. Both human hybrids and the Eirisian insectoids came out in force. They sabotaged machinery, kidnapped workers, and surrounded the embassy. Eleven different ambassadors quit because they couldn’t handle the incessant protesting.

So Dad sent me. The twelfth. His heir.

“I don’t trust anyone else to represent our family’s interests in this dispute,” Dad said when he broke the news. “You’ve been training since you were a child to bear the responsibility of governorship. This will be the first real test of your abilities. I don’t think I need to say what’s at stake here.”

Oh, I know what’s at stake all right: Dad’s profit margins and bank accounts. But what he’s holding over my head is worse: if I don’t bulldoze over the protests and get him what he wants, he’ll disinherit me.

I wish I could say I didn’t care. That the comfortable Moon Palace apartment, the shallow political friendships I’ve forged with spoiled nobility, the invites to parties and balls, are all meaningless to me. But after a lifetime of living off Dad’s money, it’s all I know how to do.

Worse than that, the idea of disappointing Dad fills me with panic. Despite how distant he’s been lately, I can’t help bending over backward for his approval.

The platform raises us several stories into the treetops. I try not to look down as I step off onto a wide tree branch, where a handful of Earth Classic humans in breather masks are waiting. Cecily is ushered off with my trunks in tow, leaving Jalus and me to wobble along a rope bridge between trees as we make our way toward the embassy.

Well,Iwobble. Jalus is infuriatingly surefooted.

The treetop resort stretches out between six or seven huge trees, connected by rope bridges and ziplines. Each upcurved branch cradles a one-bedroom treehouse made from enormous hollow seedpods. The roofs are thickly coated with the same pink moss that drips from every branch. It absorbs liquid like a sponge, keeping the houses dry and cozy even in torrential rain.

As a youth, I was enchanted with this place. It felt magical, like a fairy’s home in a storybook. But Jalus is frowning again.

“What?” I challenge. “You think the trees don’t like it when we build houses in them?”

“It isn’t the burdens you place on their arms,” Jalus murmurs. “It’s what you have done to their bodies.”

I follow his gaze to the bole of the tree on which we stand. A section of the trunk several meters high has been hollowed out to create a large room. The one we’re passing is a dining hall. The other central rooms in the resort include a ballroom, a bathhouse, and, of course, the Imperial Embassy.

“It doesn’t kill the trees,” I argue. “These rooms were made a long time ago, and they’re still thriving.”

Jalus shakes his head. “Would you enjoy being hollowed out, even if your blood still runs?”

I have no easy response for that. Suspicion sprouts in the back of my mind: he didn’t volunteer to protect me because he cared about our childhood friendship, or even his duty to the planetary governor. He’s a spy, sent to convince me to support the hybrids’ side.

Well, good luck. He’ll have to go through my daddy issues first.

Inside the Embassy’s hollow trunk, the room is partitioned into private offices. An intern ushers me to the one in the middle. “This used to be Ambassador Cora’s,” she says. “We cleaned out her stuff a couple of weeks after she disappeared.”

“She…what?” I turn to stare at the girl. She’s fresh-faced, probably a university student. Her short blond ponytail is losing its bounce, baby hairs straggling out at the neck and temples.

“Oh, um, I thought they would have told you,” she says softly, darting a glance at her colleagues. They’re all looking away, pretending not to hear. “There’s been, um, a lot of disappearances in the past few months.”

Jalus nods. “The previous eleven ambassadors have gone missing. That’s why they hired me to guard you.”

I gape. “No, they didnottell me.”Did Dad know? If he did, and sent me anyway…

Blast me, that’s cold, even for him. Enough to make a girl think her dear daddy wants to get rid of her. It already stung that he hinged my inheritance on the Herculean task of convincing a bunch of aliens that we’re entitled to their planet’s natural resources. Now he wants to throw me to kidnappers while he’s at it.

“Has anyone investigated?” I ask. “The protesters?—”

“Didnottake them.” Jalus folds all four of his arms across his torso.

“But have you checked?”

“I don’t have to ‘check.’” He glares at me, the most emotion I’ve seen from him so far. “The Kin are?—”

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