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CHAPTER ONE
Micki Allwell was in her favorite place for suffering through a breakup—on the couch in her best friend’s suite on the Nebula Zephyr luxury cruise liner literally crying on her friend’s shoulder. She and Tassia had been close ever since they auditioned together for the Comettes dance troupe which performed on board the ship. Since she was married to one of the ship’s security officers, Tassia had a bigger living space than Micki did so the two friends tended to spend their free time there, or else out enjoying the ship’s beach deck or other amenities.
Tassia had seen Micki through quite a few romantic mishaps during their time dancing on the ship and knew the drill. She stocked the best comfort foods in the stasis keeper in her kitchenette and was a nonjudgmental listener.
“I really thought this time would be different,” Micki said, wiping away tears and downing a big spoonful of high-end ice cream. “I mean, we’d gone on real dates off the ship and everything. We were so good together.”
“Did he say anything about why he was breaking up with you?” Tassia asked.
“He blocked me on his coms and on all his social media.” Micki wailed at the injustice of it all. She fished her handheld out and opened a galaxywide gossip site. “Looks like the dance is over for All Pro Interstellar Tisba champion Gurk Magrew and his little Comette,” she read with disdain. Turning the screen so Tassia could see, Micki added with high emotion, “The column goes on to say he’s engaged to this supermodel he’s fawning over in the holos. Engaged!”
“I’m so sorry. It must sting.”
Micki slumped on her end of the couch. “I’m thinking of quitting the troupe and leaving the ship, Tass.”
Eyes wide in surprise, Tassia recoiled at the declaration. “What? Why? Not over this jerk?”
“It’s not working out the way I dreamt it would. I mean sure, I’ve gotten to dance in a couple of music videos and had a bit part—as a dancer—in two big budget feature trideos but I didn’t achieve soloist stature in the Comettes. And none of the things I’ve done have led to a bigger opportunity.”
“You’re in the special projects group though,” Tassia reminded her. The other dancer had been a principal since practically the beginning of her tenure in the Comettes, being a truly transcendent dancer. “You get to go do performances on the planets we visit and on military bases and the like. You’re the envy of a lot of the girls.”
“But I’m not making any progress. I’ve been at this level since the second year started.” Poking her spoon into the ice cream, Micki took out her frustration on the dessert.
As was her nature, Tassia was reasonable and trying to problem solve. “Have you talked to Madame Cartajj?”
“No..” Micki shivered at the mere idea of asking to meet one on one with the much admired, much feared director of the legendary Comettes. All the dancers in the troupe tried hard to stay under her sensors. “it’s not just the dancing though. I’m not making progress in my personal life either. I expected to be married and have kids and be living in the lap of luxury on a high-end planet somewhere by now.” She made a face. “Makes me sound like a gold digger, doesn’t it? But so many ex-Comettes have achieved really good marriages—we’re sought after. Or so the veterans and alumni tell me. I guess I’m only sought after for brief flings on board the ship.”
“Maybe you get too intense too fast,” Tassia said gently. “You do tend to fall into love quickly.”
“Whatever the reason, I’m going to start banking my credits instead of buying everything I see and once I have enough saved I’m going to retire to a nice place. Teach dance maybe.”
Shaking her head at her friend, Tassia refrained from giving the usual lecture about how she should have been saving a bigger portion of her salary all this time. Micki had meant to, but it was so wonderful to have a regular job at good pay and every day there were new things she wanted in the shops up on Level A and on the planets the ship visited. But now she was determined. Dancers had a limited time to be at the top of their abilities, even now with the all the advances in medicine, and a catastrophic injury could end a career any day. She realized she’d been foolish and self-indulgent, being so sure she’d marry a rich passenger and be carried off to a better life. I bought into the fairy tale. Sure some of the alumni from the troupe had married extremely well but out of how many hundreds who had danced on the same stage she now performed on?
“I wish I had a home world to go back to,” she said, revealing more than she usually would about her past.
“Liam and I plan to settle on a colony world where there’s a strong presence of military veterans,” Tassia said, “Like he is. When we’re ready to start a family. You’d be welcome to go with us. Find a nice ex-soldier to marry and settle down.”
Touched, Micki murmured her thanks and ate more ice cream. Liam was a good guy and a friend, although not to the level she and Tassia were. Her handheld pinged and she ignored the sound. She didn’t care who it was, she wasn’t interested in talking and she certainly wasn’t giving interviews to any sleazy interstellar gossip site. There was another ping.
“It might be important,” Tassia said the third time the sound went off. “I’ll check who’s calling for you, if you want.”
Reluctantly Micki handed over the handheld.
“Lords of Space, it’s the director,” Tassia said a moment later. “You’d better take this.”
Wiping her hands on her slacks, Micki sat up straight as if the woman was right in front of her instead of on a comlink. “What in the seven hells can she want? I’m not on the list as a substitute anymore.” She took the device from her friend and read the terse message twice. “She wants to see me right now in her office.”
There was a sound as if a cat was meowing close by and then Tassia’s pet jenfellini F’rrh appeared from thin air, sitting regally on the couch between the two women. The three eyed feline wasn’t a real cat, as Micki understood it, but some kind of a spirit, like a genie, but one who didn’t grant wishes. The cat spoke to Tassia in a quick torrent of syllables in a language Micki didn’t know and then disappeared again.
“Well, that’s new,” her friend said with a frown. “F’rrh’s words were for you, not me. She said and I quote, One more opportunity, which must be taken. Risk yourself and gain the rewards.”
“So I should say yes to whatever Cartajj wants?” Micki grinned but her stomach was full of flutters and she wished she hadn’t gorged on the ice cream. Having F’rrh utter a prophecy or whatever the creature did aimed at her was unsettling.
“Seriously, yes. The jenfellini see possible futures as I understand it and their advice is important, or so I was taught as a child. Certainly she never gave me bad information. She saved my life several times in fact.” Tassia’s face was set in serious lines. “Let me know what the director wants.”
“Absolutely. I’ll call you later.” Micki hugged her and headed for the door. “I’d better take a minute to freshen up first and then I need to run to Level A and the office. The director hates to be kept waiting.”
Once she was in the corridor, Micki sent a quick reply to Madame Cartajj that she was on her way and then hustled to her own quarters and changed into something more appropriate than her comfy but worn gray sweatpants and a rock band tee shirt which had seen better days. She checked her face and hair in the mirror because Comettes were required to be at their best when in public, including trips to the director’s office. Her eyes were on the red side but otherwise she was presentable enough.
