Page 36 of I Fell for an Alien Popstar

I looked up. “Uh, thanks?”

“That’s Dune,” Zhari said, smiling. “The AI. She runs the bus.”

“I run everything,” Dune said. “Zhari just thinks she is in charge because her name is on the hull.”

“Dune,” Zhari warned.

“I’m being welcoming,” Dune said. “Sira let me know Vada was coming, so I prepared the climate settings for human comfort. You prefer eighteen degrees Celsius, yes? I looked it up. You are all very fussy about temperature.”

“You looked at what I liked based on—”

“Your name,” Dune interrupted me. “Vada Lamoth. From Earth. London, England. You are twenty-nine years of age. When they scanned your ticket at the concert, all your data was transferred with it.”

There was a brief pause.

“I also know your shuttle seat was 12C and that you did not sleep during the flight. Your heart rate was elevated for five hours. Are you always this stressed, or is it a special occasion?”

“Okay,” I whispered. “That’s a lot of information for a bus to have about me.”

“I am not just a shuttle bus,” Dune said, sounding offended. “I am the most advanced artificial intelligence in three systems. I also make excellent Nebs.”

Zhari leaned in. “She is very proud of her noodles.”

“The broth temperature is always perfect,” Dune said. “I have won zero awards for this because there are no awards for AI-prepared noodles, which I think is a flaw in the system.”

I looked at Zhari. “Is she always like this?”

“Always,” Zhari said, rolling her eyes.

“I grow on people,” Dune added cheerfully.

Zhari rolled her eyes again. “We need to go to the crew deck first. Sira wants to make a speech.”

“You know,” I muttered, “I’m not sure she wants me here.”

Zhari grabbed my hand and smiled. “That’s not true. Come on. It’ll be fine.”

I let her pull me down the corridor, even though every step made it harder to believe her. I was a little intimidated by Sira. She always had a completely stern look on her face.

We walked through the main hall of the bus and up a flight of stairs. The space opened into a common room that actually looked lived-in, nothing like the sterile arena suite. Cute throws and pillows were scattered across low benches bolted to the floor. Dark holo-screens sat recessed in the walls.

One corner was a mess of show outfits, keyboards, and drums, the kind of clutter that said the tour had been running for a while and no one had the energy to clean up.

Conversations stuttered as we walked in, a dozen pairs of eyes flicking toward our joined hands.

Zhari noticed when I did. Her fingers tightened around mine for half a second before she let go. I had no idea what to do with that, so I wiped my palm on my pants and shoved my hand into my pocket, pretending it didn’t matter.

But it did matter. I felt the absence right away, and I hated that I felt it. I hated that I hated it, and my brain really needed to shut up.

“Everyone,” Sira said, standing by the center table with her tablet as if it were grafted to her hand. “This is Vada Lamoth. She’s human—from Earth, as you’ve probably guessed from her appearance. Vada, this is Tev.” She gestured to a man in a bright blue suit. He was scrolling on his tablet and looked up when he heard his name. “He’s head of marketing.”

I smiled at Tev. He gave me a nod, then went back to whatever he’d been doing on his tablet.

She clicked her tongue loudly and glanced over at me.

A tall, green woman waved. “Welcome to the whale,” she said. “I’m Lyn. I’m on drums.”

Lyn was a Draxin. Her species was reptilian-like, and she was tall and slender. She was gorgeous.