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Micki set her utensils down and folded her hands. “You can’t go with me.”
Josh’s eyes grew stormy. “Are you meeting someone? Another man? I assumed this was exclusive between us.”
Adrenaline surging through her body at his accusatory tone, Micki shoved the plate away. “I can’t believe you said that. What kind of person do you think I am? Of course we’re exclusive. For your information, not that it’s any of your business, I’m going to the DPRC to teach dance classes and you can’t possibly want to go to a place like that with me.”
“DPRC?”
“Displaced Person Resettlement Camp. There are several located on various planets along the current route the Nebula Zephyr is sailing and I have a standing invitation to teach the kids whenever we come to call at the port.”
“How did you get involved in such a commitment? Is it a Comettes charity?”
Micki could see he was trying hard to understand. Debating the wisdom of what she was about to say, she took a deep breath. “I grew up in a DPRC. Dance was the only bright spot in my life and it became my route out after my mother died. Giving these kids a few hours of my time when I can is my way of giving back.”
“I’m in,” he said firmly. “It sounds like a worthy effort and I’ve never thought much about DPRC’s obviously so it’s time I got educated. I also don’t like the idea of you going alone.”
Micki worked hard not to be offended. He wasn’t wrong—the camps could be dicey as she knew all too well, but his attitude was rubbing her the wrong way. He’s not from the same strata of the Sectors you are. Give him a chance. He wants to see for himself which is a start. “All right you can go with me but don’t blame me if you’re bored or put off by the conditions there. And for your information, I’ve been making these trips to the various camps to teach kids for years now without any problems.”
“We’ll take my shuttle,” he said. “What time do we need to leave?”
Micki told him and then by mutual agreement the subject was changed and dinner continued. She slept in her own quarters that night, pleading a need to get herself ready in the early morning to teach a day of classes but in reality she was regretting her decision to let Josh accompany her and she was definitely sorry she’d said anything about her childhood. It was a one liner in her resume so he’d seen it if the show had shown him, which she suspected Eddie probably had. One simple line hid a lot of secrets, however.
In the morning she reported to the shuttle deck in time to watch the Kumisarc shuttle lift off and head to the planet. As soon as the deck re-opened she strolled to the shiny shuttle bearing the Benfield corporate logo, trimmed with the Benfield racing team colors. “Impressive,” she said to Josh as she drew near and saw him waiting on the landing ramp. The credits he and Kumisarc must have spent to bring their personal shuttles on board merely to avoid having to use the Nebula Zephyr’s flyers and mingle with the common folk, most of whom were also rich and pampered, was awe inspiring. She supposed the expenditure meant nothing to Josh either. Probably an infinitesimal drop in the bucket of his ancestral wealth. Listen to yourself, she said in her mind. This guy is so far above you it’s not funny. Enjoy your time with him and don’t expect more. Sensible but sad.
There were several other people in the shuttle, sitting at the rear and she was puzzled but Josh drew her past them to the semi-private seating area in the front and kept up the conversation as they made the short flight to the spaceport below.
When she debarked from the shuttle, Micki saw a big black groundcar waiting for them and instead of going off about their own business the three men and one woman who’d been in the shuttle with them followed Josh to the vehicle. One climbed in next to the driver and it was clear the other three were going to be riding in a smaller groundcar right behind.
“What is this?” she asked, coming to a halt and gesturing at the other car and the men.
“Benfield security personnel,” Josh replied, brows drawn together in a frown.
“Mr. Benfield is a high value target,” the lead security person added in a surprised tone. “He always has a security detail.”
“You’re not coming into the camp with armed guards,” Micki said, anger rising. “They’re not going to be standing around while I try to teach little kids to dance. Do you know how insulting the idea is? These people are my friends, not criminals or terrorists plotting to kidnap a generational billionaire. They’re people down on their luck and in a sad situation. No one would even know who you were if you didn’t bring your own army with you.”
Josh took her by the elbow and steered her away from the guards. “There was no intention to insult the people you work with inside the camp.”
“You can go back to the ship now,” she said. “Thanks for the ride and I’ll find my own way home at the end of the day.”
“Please be reasonable,” he said.
“The Sectors provides security inside the camp. I’ve never had a problem.” Micki had a sneaking suspicion she was overreacting but there was no way she was going into the facility surrounded by security guards. People trusted her and the appearance would send the wrong message.
Eyes narrowed, Josh studied her. “Can we compromise a bit here?”
“What do you propose?”
“I carry my personal blaster and one guard comes inside with us. I can’t bend more than that. I have a responsibility to my corporate board not to take unnecessary risks.” His tone turned cajoling. “You can pick the guard.”
“Fine. The woman can come with us. She seems the least threatening.” Micki pushed past him and stalked to the groundcar. The driver opened the rear door for her and she slid inside without pausing to see what Josh was doing. He joined her a moment later and the two-car procession moved off smoothly.
It was a short trip to the DPRC facility and Micki sat with her arms crossed and refused to be drawn into conversation. Josh eventually gave up, poured himself a drink—she refused—and swallowed it in one gulp. At the camp, the three men and the two cars remained outside and Micki led the way through the administrative entrance. Josh and Minorva, the bodyguard, took a few extra minutes to process since they were insisting on retaining their weapons, which was against the standard policy. Micki guessed Josh bribed the guard because all argument ceased and they were released through the gate on the other side, emerging into the hot, dusty, noisy camp.
“I’m late,” Micki said, setting a fast pace as she wove through the narrow ‘streets’ of the camp, walking past prefab housing units meant to be temporary but much worse for the wear after twenty plus years of constant use.
“Crowded,” Josh said as they progressed.
“Not much for people to do here,” she said. “And the day jobs in the city are few and far between. Hard to get even with a Sectors work permit. And those are nearly impossible to acquire.”
