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If they did this, they would do it as a couple. He would be a fool to ever let her go.
“Where is she?” he asked Oberon.
“I believe she’s on the beach,” the AI’s voice replied, more stiffly than usual.
That’s impossible. He’s an AI, he can’t be stiff compared to usual.
And Oberon didn’tbelieveanything. He knew exactly where they both were at all times.
“Does she know she’s supposed to be here?” Tiago asked.
“She does,” Oberon said.
Tiago got a strange feeling in his belly. The twist he had when he drew the wrong opponent, or weighed in a few grams too high and knew he’d spend the hour before his match sweating them off instead of stretching and rehydrating.
“Can I talk to her?” he asked. “Find out what she’s doing?”
“Miss Clare has elected to engage privacy mode,” Oberon responded.
Privacy mode?
“Remind me the way to the beach?” Tiago asked.
A path appeared in the meadow curving off to the left and leading him away from the wildflowers and the forest beyond.
He began to jog, the need to reach her quickly overwhelming him.
There was no way she could leave the Center. He had been told multiple times that there was no transport off until the end of the week.
But the instinct wouldn’t let go of his insides. So, he broke into a full sprint, begging Mother Stars with each step.
Let her be okay. Let her stay with me.
The lush greenery slowly gave way to sand and palm trees until at last, he was running in deep, sun-warmed sand. He could smell the salt of the ocean with each inhale.
“Where is she?” he asked Oberon.
But two guards were already jogging up to meet him. One was a Vystian with gray tentacles. The other was a big, furry Bergalian who didn’t look pleased to be running out in the sun.
“That’s far enough,” the Vystian said calmly.
“Where is Alexis?” Tiago panted. “Is she okay?”
“She’s in perfect health,” the Bergalian said. “But she doesn’t want to see you.”
“She’s pulled the plug on the project,” the Vystian said with enough sympathy in his voice to make Tiago grit his teeth. “She’ll be shipping out as soon as the Center permits.”
“Is she in there?” Tiago asked, noticing a small beach cottage in the direction the guards had come from.
“Doesn’t matter, buddy,” the Bergalian said. “She doesn’t want to see you.”
Tiago strode between them toward the cottage.
It looked like a place she might love - humble yet beautiful with whitewashed driftwood exterior, bright turquoise shutters and window boxes.
“Whoa, there, Romeo,” the Bergalian said. “Did you hear what I said?”
Tiago kept walking.
