Page 9 of Shadows of Stardust

“You are?”

“I am.” Her smile is bright and undaunted. “You and I are going to be allies, Roslyn.”

“We are?”

Juni glances to where the rest of the group is walking ahead. There are a couple of producers leading the charge, assigning cast members to the row of small dwellings they refer to as our ‘bungalows’.

Or, at least, that’s how my translator chip picks the word up.

Truthfully, I’ve never learned much about human architecture, especially considering the last time I saw it for myself, I was only six. But there’s something that almost seems familiar about the structures.

Each one is unique, and all are constructed of natural materials that complement the surrounding tropical splendor. Wood walls and palm-thatched roofs, with wide windows overlooking the beach and covered front porches with woven hammocks perfect for lounging.

The closer we get, though, the clearer it becomes they’re not just quaint cottages. High-tech locks on the doors, the shimmer of privacy screens on the windows, and the persistent hum of the hovercams make it impossible to forget that there are dozens ofeyes always watching. Producers, contestants, guards, cameras. I won’t be alone for a second here.

And that’s not saying anything about the billions more who’ll watch all of this when it airs.

Juni places her hand back on my shoulder, halting our progress as the rest of the cast continues on. She looks up and down the beach, and I do the same. The cams have mostly moved on for now, following contestants as they disperse to their bungalows.

“Can I be honest with you?” she asks, and the conspiratorial glint in her eye has me nodding, too curious not to. “You’re going to be a pretty big fucking deal here.”

I swallow hard. “I’m not. I mean, I don’t want to be—”

“It’s alright,” she says quickly. “I love that for you. Honestly. But if I had to guess, that’s not something you’re really ready for?”

The comment could be insulting, but there’s no judgment in her tone, so I nod again.

“So I think we can help each other.”

“How?”

“Simple. I’m here to be a big fucking deal, too. Make no mistake, a mate would be nice, but I’ve got bigger plans for how much I can make of this opportunity, and partnering up with the hottest commodity on the beach is just good strategy.”

Despite myself, I laugh at her candor. I’ve always preferred people who speak plainly and get to the point.

“Alright,” I concede. “That’s fair. And for me?”

“Also simple. I help you navigate through all of it. The producers, the cameras, the contestants. I help you figure all of this out so you can make the most of it, too.”

I almost refuse her help.

The instinct to run, to hide, to keep my profile low and do everything I can to stay out of the limelight claws at me. It’s thesame instinct I learned on Severin—hammered into me from the very first day I stepped off the transport from Earth. Head down, stay down, don’t draw any undue attention.

But it’s probably too damn late for that.

I had half a dozen hovers on me like flies swarming shit as soon as I stepped out of the cruiser.

I’m not blind to Ansalla’s hostility or to the looks I’ve been getting from the rest of the cast.

And, as the cherry on top of this garbage sundae of a situation, I’ve caught the attention of some kind of super-soldier, one I can’t imagine is going to go on his merry way and leave me be.

Maybe it would be good to have an ally, for however short a time I’ll be on the beach.

“Think about it,” Juni says softly. “I’ll come over later regardless, but no pressure.”

“Alright. Let’s do it.” My impulsive answer bubbles out of me before I’ve thought it all the way through. “Let’s team up.”

Juni’s grin lights up her whole face. “You won’t regret it, Roslyn.”

---