So I'd spent the morning looking for flights.That was just one morning.
Four.
I had a couple weeks.Anything could happen in a couple weeks.
Three.
Worst case, I 'd have to write to the conglomerate and explain that I needed help getting there.
Two.
They could take it out of my winnings, I'd say, and then I'd promise to be extra blood-thirsty or something.
One.
If that failed, I could always throw myself out of an airlock.It'd be a pretty quick way to go.And then someone could scoop up my frozen body up and ship me back to Seraphim, and I wouldn't have any problems any more.
Okay.
I was again struck by the sense that Ishouldbe a bit more afraid about dying.Other people were.Maybe it was a weird holdover from all of those Sunday school classes.On Seraphim, it hadn't been too important to be attached to this life because it was what cameafterthat counted: my existence was useful only insofar as it determined what happened with my eternity.It had been weird, to be simultaneously told that you were playing an essential role in God's holy war while also understanding that the here-and-now didn't hold anyrealvalue, beyond what you could do for the cause.To feel crucial and disposable, all at the same time: my life had value as a crucible to make or break my soul, which only had value insofar as it was needed by Seraphim.
I could see, thinking about it, how that might do a number on a kid's sense of self-worth.
But now Iknewthat my life didn't matter, which didn't feel as depressing as it sounds.Once my life was done, it was done, and the Tournament would go on and Trident would go on and people would still be here at this spaceport, coming and going and complaining about the price of lodgings and the lack of decent homeworld food on the station.
I huffed out a short, skeptical laugh.
It didn't really matter at all, did it?I stuck my pack between my knees and went rummaging around my meagre possessions, finally digging out the journal I'd half-heartedly started when I had aspirations of doing some reflection andworking on myself.Most of the pages were predictably blank.I ripped a handful from the back of the journal and grabbed a marker from the recesses of my bag.
Maybe I needed to make my ride come tome.
I carefully wrote out what I needed and my contact info while also omitting my name or any identifying information.It was easy enough to buy some decorative tape from one of the little shops tucked up a narrow, dimly lit alley – this tape flashed gold and white and had little fish jumping out of waves at predictable intervals – and then I set to posting notices on the pillars holding up the official noticeboards.
Partway through my attempt to paper every likely flat surface with my impromptu flyers, my wristband buzzed with a message.Ipaused, wedging the last few flyers under my armpit, and tapped the interface.
You're meant to run lines with me this morning, so unless you're currently out and about purchasing some delicious treats, you owe me an apology.Khrelen's message glowed a soft white in the air above my wrist.
My stomach twisted, maybe with guilt.Sorry, I wrote,Had something to take care of.Ask Devala.
I was going to mute the thread – he'd get a message from me later that I'd queued to auto-send, explaining everything, and I didn't think I could handle lying to Khrelen right now – but the guilt was throbbing low in my gut, so I added,I really can't talk right now, but you should know that you're great.You'll get your break!I bet your monologue would have made me cry.
AndthenI muted the thread and refused to let myself think about saying goodbye to Khrelen Tintissi or Yellow Fin Station or the life I'd made for myself.Instead, I set myself to taping up the rest of my signs.I had a problem to solve; I couldn't waste any time feeling sorry for myself.
I was crouched beneath one of the smaller displays near a less popular berth – it was more narrow than the others, and caught the worst of the solar winds from the angle of the belt – taping up my eleventh notice, when I heard a soft sound, like someone clearing their throat.
I jerked up."Ow," I hissed, my head smacking the bottom of the display board.My gaze caught the edge of a very shiny pair of black boots, and I grimaced.I should have known the port authority would take notice eventually.They probably had some words for me about not going throughofficialchannels or paying whatever fee they wanted to charge."Listen," I said placatingly as I shuffled backwards from underneath the sign and drew myself up to full height, "I'm really not trying to cause any trouble.It's just that I'm having a hard time finding a seat on a ship and –"
I stopped.In front of me stood my pretty abayan admirer, his head tilted and his hands folded carefully behind his back.Here in the light of the concourse, I could admire just how striking the contrast was between those dark eyes and the bone-white perfection of his skin.
The smile that curled my lips was all real this time.Abayadidsmile, so at least I didn't need to worry about looking like a menace, because I didn't think I'd be able to wipe this one off my face."It'syou," I said, and that silver flush I'd spied last night immediately spread across his cheeks.Cute.
I would have thought that the lack of eyebrows would make his face less expressive, but he felt easy to read: I saw his stare flick over me and the pinch of worry at the edges of his eyes soften."I had a message this morning from Alet Trident," he said, upright and square as he looked over me; perfectly pressed and put together."She said you are looking for passage to the Thenat cluster?"
Bless Alet Trident and both of her nosy marn hearts; bless this ridiculous abaya who was blushing, seemingly unable to look me fully in the eye.
See, this was the kind of thing you missed out on if you threw yourself out of an airlock preemptively.
"I am," I said, fighting against the world's biggest, dumbest grin; that might too much for any species.Besides, we hadn't even talked cost, and I had all of 87 credits to my name."I'm on a break from the den.A work opportunity came up and…" I trailed off, not sure what to say next.Did I ask him if he was headed that way and willing to take on a passenger?Did I wait for him to offer?Did I hammer out the terms and conditions (positions, frequency, etc.)?
