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I like that part the best.
Today, I’m reading on my own, though. Bethiah and Jamef are both on the bridge, as we’re nearing our destination. Well, I’m not exactly reading. I’m slowly sounding out words in the primer and letting the translator fill in for me what I’m actually saying. It’s an extra little hitch that makes my brain hiccup—chair is chair in English, but writing chair in Homeworld-ese means writing something like toh fash eh and my brain is still struggling with that leap. OG Dora—Starfish Dora—probably wasn’t very good with languages, either. There’s a word I’ve run into that I can’t make out no matter how many times I read the scatter of symbols aloud, and so I’m taking the book to the bridge with me.
Normally I read in our bedroom to avoid Rhonda, and of course I immediately run into her when I leave our quarters. Because of course I do. She’s in the main hall that cuts through the ship, leaning against one of the walls just outside a storage closet, her head down.
I jerk to a halt at the sight of her, wincing inwardly. She doesn’t notice me, though, and remains where she is, her head bent.
“Hello?” I call out.
Rhonda immediately turns in place, pressing her back to the wall, her hands behind her, and a sweet expression on her face. “Oh, hello there, dear. Am I in your way?”
Ninety-Three
DORA
I try not to frown at Rhonda. It’s not her fault that I ran into her in the hall, and it’s sure not her fault that I kinda hate her guts. She’s our client, I remind myself over and over again. The sooner we get her lover found again, the sooner we never have to see her again. She’s just a paycheck, and I remind myself of that over and over again.
And if we find her lover on this “vacation moon” that we’re approaching, then we’re almost done with her.
So I try to give her a friendly smile. “Are you okay?”
She continues to lean against the wall, her back and hands pressed against it. “Oh, yes. I just had a moment of dizziness. It happens every time the ships change from hyper-speed to a cruising speed. We’re approaching a planet, aren’t we?” Rhonda puts a hand to her temple, rubbing her skin. I can’t help but notice her ornate outfit today. It’s beautiful. She’s dressed entirely in silver, and a thin layer of gauzy fabric covers her from neck to wrist to ankle. Underneath the diaphanous over-dress, she wears a tight bandeau over her breasts and a tiny skirt, and the arms are covered with metallic sculpted vines that curve up to her elbow, a fitted belt of the same make at her waist. It all looks very rich and lovely and I feel even more like a castoff clone in my simple green dress with a square neckline and ankle-length skirt. A week ago I was so excited to get this dress. I felt so feminine and pretty in it.
Now I just feel like a clod of dirt next to Rhonda.
“A vacation planet,” I tell her. “Jamef and Bethiah say we should be docking there later tonight. That there’s a credit trace from a few weeks ago with your mate’s name on it.”
She puts her fingers to her mouth and titters. “My mate. Aren’t you sweet.” Rhonda tilts her head, beaming at me. “But I’m glad we ran into each other again. I wanted to talk to you.” She gives the wall one last pat and then moves toward me. “I’ve been looking for you, you know.”
She has? I blink. “Is something wrong?”
“Other than me being wildly bored because everyone’s avoiding me? Not at all.” She eyes the electronic primer in my hands. “You don’t need to learn their language, dear. I know it’s practically required to survive back home, but you’d be much better off lotioning that face of yours and cultivating some tight pores.” Before I can reply, she puts a hand on my back and gently steers me towards her quarters and away from the spot she was occupying. “But that’s not why I was looking for you. I wanted to see if you could give something back to Bethiah on my behalf.”
“You want me to tell her you’re looking for her?”
“Oh, no. It’s quite all right.” Rhonda chuckles. “She’s feeling a little prickly at the moment when it comes to me, I think. She pretends she’s all bluster but she really does have a soft heart.” She runs her hand over the lock to her door and it opens, revealing the crowded quarters within, now covered with heaps of dresses and scattered shoes. She picks up the only pair that aren’t dainty little strap-covered heels and holds them up. “Here we go. Bethiah left her shoes with me.”
