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He’d crossed his arms and scanned her over with a rude expression as she curled her hair with a barrel iron. “Yeah? How long’ll that take? You’ll be forty by the time I can marry you. You think I want that?”
“Jesus Christ, Patrick, that’s what you’re afraid of?Go get yourself someone younger—someone who isn’t going tospace.”
What was the point of marrying someone if you wouldn’t like them when they grew old?
A cold sensation collected in her chest as she looked at herself through the lens he’d assigned her. Shehadaged. Her mauve lips were slightly lower on her face than before, her sharp jawline a little loosened. Crows-feet spanned from her eyes when she smiled, lingering faintly when she didn’t. She didn’t have moisturizer, light-therapy, or any of the other beauty solutions that would have kept her skin in top shape. Space travel had taken its toll, leaking the golden color out of her skin, leaving it thin in the harsh cabin lighting.
Stomach sinking, she lost every ounce of nerve she would need to send any daring selfies to Caligher. She was simply not as stunning as she’d been when she’d left Earth. Maybe it was shallow-minded, but she had the sense that if she wanted him to accept her despite being human, sheneededto be hot. Hotter than hot. In the world of men and women, being attractive was survival.
“Lucca,” Caligher purred, making her emotions veer toward despair. “Where’d you go?”
“Um…” A wave of despondence fell over her so powerfully that she was knocked speechless.
Her computer suddenly hummed with another incoming message, making her jump.
“Hail, science ship.”
It wasn’t Caligher’s voice, but a flatter one. She rushed to her cockpit, finding another ship in her view—sleek and silver and white, not much larger than the Selkie.
“Was that another voice?” Caligher asked. She could hear him sloshing through the pool and climbing out. Droplets of magma sizzled as they spiked through the ground.
“There’s another ship,” she said. “Looks like a research ship, except it has… guns.” Two modest ones on either side of the hull. Not fired up, but that could easily change.
Caligher was already running across the terrain by the stilted choppiness of his voice. “Run if it gets bad. I’ll find you after. On my way up now—”
He cut his line.
* * *
Adjusting her frequency, she smoothed the irritation out of her tone. “Sorry, hello! Are you still there?”
“Oh,” he said. Anxiety flooded her bloodstream. “I came to admire your vessel. It’s a rare build and color, and conveniently, hasno weapons.” Lucca didn’t like how happy he sounded about that last part. “What is your trade?”
Her trade? She swallowed, getting the sense that she was on thin ice already.
“Um… map-making.”
“Map-making. That’sfascinating,” he said in a tone that could only be construed as dickish. “Tell me all about it.”
Why did she feel like she had a gun pointed at her? In the silence, she was driven to elaborate. “I’m from the Outskirts. I flew in this way to bridge the gap. My… conclave believes a map of the inside and outside is the best way to do that.”
She cut herself off, feeling foolish for undefinable reasons. Her words sounded too uncertain, too shaky, like she was aware he was poking at the cracks.
“And are you out here alone? With your strange lack of weapons?”
“Here by yourself, babe?”someone had once whispered in her ear in a nightclub, making her cover her drink and look more closely at her surroundings.
“No, my friend is close by…”
“Your friend?”
She paused. “He’s my boyfriend.” Because why not?
“Ah…” He sounded confused.
An idea hit her. “I can connect you in a call if you want to talk to him. He’s very friendly.”
“No, I was only saying hello, but I’ll be on my way momentarily.”
