Page 83 of Star Champion

He realized that both females waited for him to do something. He reached for Button’s tiny fingers, and incredibly, she accepted his gentle squeeze, although all he could see of her from behind Jemm’s shoulder was one wide, thick-lashed, curious eye. “It is very nice to meet you, Button. I look forward to getting to know you better.” Is that what one said to a small child? He was not sure. He had not interacted with a child of any age since Katjian was young, and he had received no training on the subject.

“She’s a little shy at first, but she’ll warm to ya, and then you’ll regret it,” Jemm said.

Ma rounded them up for dinner amidst heavenly aromas. At the palace, dinner was a communal affair—a noisy gathering of family, acquaintances, visiting officials, with palace servers swirling around, attending to every need. Numerous courses were served, and afterward, liqueurs and sweets. This was something completely different.

And completely wonderful. With Nico staying behind at the club, it was only their small group of three at the table, a tiny knot of a family. Button sat on the floor, absorbed with color sticks and paper. Ma fussed over him as if he were her own. On the table was a single main course in a crock—a thick brown broth laden with chunks of some sort of meat and vegetables.

“He normally only eats seafood,” Jemm warned.

“I eat other foods,” he insisted. “Not often, but I do.”

“He actually does,” Jemm said, and squeezed his hand with affection under the table.

“I’ve never eaten anything from the sea,” Ma said. “I’ve never seen a live fish.”

Klark offered, “I will endeavor to change that as soon as possible.”

“Shoal dabs.” Jemm laughed. “They’re alive when you eat them, Ma.”

Ma made a soft snort. “I don’t know about that…”

“Well, this smells heavenly, and I am telling the truth.” Jemm and Ma watched him expectantly as he took his first taste from a bent and ancient-looking spoon. The bite contained myriad subtle flavors, and was so delicious he sighed with pleasure. “Incredible,” he said, and scooped up another spoonful of the broth he knew had cooked all day. It was one thing dining on a gourmet meal prepared by the finest chefs in the galaxy. It was quite another savoring a dish home-cooked for loved ones.

A sleek brown shadow shot through a door flap installed in the wall and disappeared under the table. Klark leaned sideways to peer at the intruder.

“That’s Ditsi,” Jemm explained. “I can’t say she’s our ketta-cat, because she lives her own life that corresponds with ours only at meal time.”

A soft paw tapped his shin.

“Ditsi thinks ya may be Nico,” Ma said and made a soft kissing sound. “She prefers men. There are too few for her liking around here.” There was some exchange made under the table, then the ketta-cat launched itself to a shelf from where it could survey the scene and study Klark.

Button appeared at his side. “Klark,” she said in a breathy, pint-sized voice. Somber, she handed him a drawing of a lollipop-shaped tree, a round yellow sun, and a light blue sky containing a single white puff of a cloud. A stick figure of a girl stood on a strip of green grass in the middle of it all.

“Thank you, Button. It’s a beautiful work of art.”

She averted her eyes shyly and returned to her color sticks.

“She’s been drawing such things ever since she started schooling with the Earth-dwellers, I never saw anything like it.” Ma said. “They’re filling her head with things she doesn’t know.”

“Filling her head with dreams, Ma,” Jemm put in.

“Who is the mother?” Klark had not heard mention of Nico having a wife.

Ma put her spoon down. Jemm’s hand slid onto his thigh with a caress of warning. He had breached some protocol, but was at a loss as to why.

However, this would pale in comparison to the so-called dinnertime protocol of an ancient dynastic clan of staggering wealth and privilege. Just wait until Jemm met his family and experienced a meal with them for the first time. Little intimidated his Baréshti lass, luckily, but the thought was enough to make him sweat.

“We don’t talk about that,” Jemm said under her breath. Then, even softer, she added, “We don’t talk about a lot of things around here. I’ll explain later.”

She made good on that promise after they descended seventeen stories after dinner to put the trash out for Ma. “Kish, Button’s mother, and Nico were best friends since they were about two standard years old. It was instant. They grew up together. They were never not together. You couldn’t imagine one without the other. They were made for each other.”

They tossed their bag of rubbish into a bin that stank so badly it made his eyes water. Then they began the long trek back up. “Nico proposed to Kish when they were eight. He planned it all out. He made it official by giving her a button he had found somewhere. Popped off of some compound cog’s finery, we guess. Kish kept it with her from that day forward, pinned to her clothes. When they grew up, Kish got pregnant. They married. Many people don’t legitimize that here, but they wanted to. It was important to them. They named their baby after that button.”

They rounded another stairwell, then trudged up more stairs. No wonder she was so fit.

“Nico and Kish both worked. They were skull collectors. Their job was to drive into the mines and collect the AIs at the end of the shifts—the bucket-bots, the auto-diggers, and other mechanized what-nots—and transport them from one place to another, or to be repaired. Ma always watched Button while Kish was at work. Button was about four months old when it happened. Kish was gathering up some bots while Nico repositioned the cart. The brakes failed. It rammed a support beam. The ceiling caved in on her. He had to dig her out with his hands. Through all the dirt and rocks. He found her crushed. And it crushed poor Nico’s heart.”

“Great Mother,” Klark muttered under his breath. “Heaven keep her.”

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