Page 75 of Sunastara & the Venusian
“That’s correct,” Sonia said. She sounded as calm as the atrium before sunrise sim, but her left eye twitched. “So, to answer your question. No. I don’t think the proposition is why we’re being targeted.”
I could spot a lie as well as a Vorpol could spot a mismatched-shoe sale. And the senator was clearly lying. I’d opened my mouth to press her on it when she derailed me completely by stepping in close and whispering, “Now, tell me what is going on between you and Freddie.”
“What?” I stumbled back a step, more shocked by the question than I would have been had the ship suddenly turned inside out. “N-nothing is going on. He’s…a friend. What?”
“You know,” Sonia said, keeping her voice low, “I knowhow to keep a secret.” She winked. “I’m a senator. It’s pretty much all we do.”
I opened my mouth, came up short, closed it again, and dropped my chin in defeat. “Is it that obvious?”
“Glaringly.”
Laughing at myself, I raised my head again. “I guess I’m caught.”
“I think what you are is in love,” Sonia stated, as if this fact was as certain as all the stars in the KU eventually burning out. “And thank the gods for it. We were so worried about you.”
I shouldn’t have stopped by their suite before heading to the sensory room yesterday. I must have looked terrible. An acute awareness of how many people aboard this ship have been worried about me for years, never asking me about it, never demanding I tell them what was wrong, crashed into me with the force of a collapsing star. I didn’t want to worry my friends anymore. I didn’t want to keep hiding. “Yesterday was a difficult day for me. My son,” I said, clearing the sudden thickness from my throat, wondering if the words I was about to say would get easier or harder the more I said them. “I lost him five years ago, and yesterday was the anniversary.”
“Sunny,” she gasped, her hand rising to her chest like she was trying to shield her own heart. “I’m so, so sorry.”
“Thank you,” I managed, blinking back the sting in my eyes. I really didn’t want to cry in front of this serious, important, professional woman. “He would be about Sai’s age. If he were still here, that is.”
Without warning, her eyes filled with tears. She took me by my shoulders and pulled me close, crushing me in a tight embrace. “I’m sorry,” she said again with a tremor in her voice, and I couldn’t stop my own tears from falling nomatter how hard I tried. “I didn’t know. I wish I’d known. I might have?—”
“It’s all right,” I said. “Nobody knew.” The way it felt to be wrapped inside her embrace, sharing tears with another mother, it was different from what I’d imagined. It wasn’t fear or pity or despair. It was love, only love. And as if the anchor that had been weighing my heart down tugged on the rope one final time before it snapped free, I realized there was something I needed to do.
Pulling away, wiping the tears from my eyes, I said, “If you’ll excuse me, Senator. I need to make a call.”
“Sunastara?”My mother’s voice was a rushed breath, her bright-blue eyes already glistening on my techPad screen. “Is that really you?”
“Hi, Mom,” I said, holding my pad close, wanting to hug it to my chest. “I’ve missed you. I’m sorry it’s been so long. How’s Dad?”
30
Tano,Axel, and Marisia sat stiffly on one side of the staff room table. Since their arrival, they’d been nothing but pleasant and professional—Tano had even come to visit the Cosmic Spectacle stables yesterday while I’d met with that New Earth stable hand to arrange the kurot’s transport back to the CAK, wanting to thank me personally for the kurot milk, telling me it was “the finest cleaning I’ve ever had.”
I’d made sure to appear delighted that he’d enjoyed the antiquated custom I’d unknowingly revived, but deep down, I couldn’t shake that nagging feeling that I’d met him before. I also couldn’t shake the feeling that—with his slippery smile and heavy-lidded eyes—he’d been checking me out, as well as all the Spectacle’s female staff. He’d even tried to flirt with the head oorthorse trainer, a tall and exacting female from Neptune who was so intimidating, I hadn’t said more than a handful of words to her since she’d come onto the ship six months ago. Maybe I never would, now that I knew how hard life was on her planet, how strong she must have been, how resilient.
Trying not to stare at Tano across the table, or at Marisia—whose expression since she’d stepped foot on this ship had only wavered between aggressively annoyed and unbearably bored—I leaned over, listening in while Tig and Reya chatted about the tech effects Tig had planned for New Years.
“How are you two getting along?” I asked them, my smile as pure as freshly fallen snow. “Is Tig telling you all her secrets?”
Tig laughed. “Pretty much. Not that I have that many.”
When Tig smiled, Reya blushed. Of the two, I would have pegged Tig for the more easily flustered. But she seemed somehow more confident with Reya around. Maybe it was good for her not to be so isolated in her office all day. Or—fingers and toes crossed—maybe they were making more of a connection than just teacher and pupil. Not that the dynamic couldn’t be a lot of fun.
“Have you two exchanged contact information?” I asked. “Reya may have questions for you once this holiday is over.”
Reya’s blush deepened as Tig said, “No. We haven’t.” She turned to look at Reya. “But maybe we should. If you want to. Do you…want to?”
Reya smiled at Tig, Tig smiled at Reya, and fireworks exploded beneath my sternum.
Freddie commed.
Shooting him an innocent glance across the table, I replied,
