19 - Intuition
The Wreath; Central Hub
Udeav Minor
Colonial Space
Udeavan noon
L: I know you're still here…
Jana's wrist vibrated. Her data assistant displayed Liana Caruso's message in a calming blue sans-serif font. The garish details of the tiki bar she'd posted up at grayed out around her, its shade, sights and sounds becoming far less interesting than when she'd first ordered.
Her heart fluttered as she furiously tapped back her reply.
J: We need to talk.
L: So talk.
Drama queen. Jana thought with equal parts impatience and amusement. She shook her head.
A second later, the chromed-out bartending automaton returned with Jana's order lofted on its back. She pinched the glass by its stem and placed it gently on the teak bar top.
J: Alone. Off grid. Strong drinks, good food, and better views. Just like old times?
L: ...
Three squirming dots indicated that Caruso was considering a more productive reply this time.
L: was that cologne I smelled earlier?..
Maybe not. Liana had ignored the question entirely. Jana's former lover was going right for the jugular. And, knowing her, there was no way she was done either. Just like old times, indeed.
L: I didn't think I'd recognize you without the bite of pentasine and terazinon in the air.
J:Try me. You might enjoy the upgrade.
L: can't turn shit into gold, cariño.
J: This cannot wait.
L: Always the fucking angle game with you. I'll be up later. Maybe you'll see me.
Jana swiped away the message so furiously she nearly fell out of her seat.
And maybe you'll still be a free woman! She thought to herself, frustrated at Liana's lack of understanding.
Liana didn't know, but she was running out of time. No one had made accusations yet, but the laylines pointing toward Liana's path would connect eventually and very suddenly.
Jana, however, wasn't hedging bets: Liana Caruso was an innocent woman.
And, while the ever-sensible McCloud knew that there was some emotion involved in that determination. Jana's sensibility also meant she knew it would be unwise to alarm Liana this early; lest she make any rash decisions.
Unfortunately, Jana was one and a half martini's past sensible. Empowered by a lonely heart and some top-shelf gin; there was no way she'd miss this opportunity to intervene.
An animal like her? One born on the run? Her entire upbringing attuned to running at the first sign of a threat? Jana thought, swirling the lemon peel around her glass.
If she did it, she wouldn't be here. She wouldn't have reached out.
And, despite some radical notions of love intruding on Jana's case-hardened heart, she did have room for some extrajudicial compassion.
A plan-b she hoped she wouldn't need: there was a referral to a roving disappearing act in her backpocket if the Panthress' alibis were subpar.
A series of bings and bongs over the PA indicated it was a mere hour before the 'show.'
Jana grunted, clasping her cone-shaped martini glass with an underhand grip in her left hand, and pushed away from the table with her right. No sense pushing this off any longer.
Jonny Huynh, her starry-eyed paycheck, was waiting.
Topside was bustling now. Jana's approach to the central platforms was made harder by the revolting blend of tasteless influencers, overpaid personal security, and unrepentant war-tourists swirling about the deck. Worse, all under the beating midday sun's gleam.
The morning haze had been yanked away, it seemed, leaving a vibrant seabreeze behind. Thirty-plus hour cycles meant the Northern Sea's temperature oscillated widely between eight and thirty centigrade this time of year. With the sun only a couple of hours from its highest point, the temperatures should have been sweltering; but the constant gusts kept it barely comfortable if one kept still.
Jana hadn't been. After releasing her brother, she made a frenzied beeline for the top. Taking lifts, trams and the numerous repluser-craft platforms ferrying guests throughout the party's concourse. A woman on a mission.
Jana breezed past the lime green Vikr-branded streamers and drink-laden cocktail tables; all of the Eastern Hept's many sights and spectacles. Floating platforms with displays on Vikr's market verticals; pre-fab housing, mining, cross-colony shipping, something called 'Neurlink', oh, and fucking everything else out here.
Armstrong was really trying to sell the public on the Wreath, or at least the carefully-selected press pool they'd allowed in.
These sights were, of course, accompanied by the fast-moving beats preferred by Central Lylations. Annoyingly, some of James' own had already been played a few times by Jana's count. Rozal. She scoffed. An act for secondary schoolers.
Then, there was the smell of it all. Bottomless platters of hor d'oeuvres, protein sliders, sashimi and Jana's favorite; fried crickets. All ferried out of the kitchens by the various serving bots.
Jana's observations became more practical.
The event staff seemed to be vetted offworlders as well, something Jana thought wise. Vikr's colony commonstaff was likely too compromised by locality to be trusted.
Ironically, Jana probably looked the most local of any of the invitees arriving on this level. Though, it wasn't her fault this time. Jonny had offered a no-notice invite to an unusually formal event in the Colonies' wildest terrestrial frontier. And, it seemed like Vikr had pulled all the stops out to bring the central systems out to its furthest reaches.
Jana took another healthy swig of her drink as she climbed a small, glass stairway to the ferry terminal.
A great snaking line of overheating, overdressed animals stood on the right side of the staircase. Leftovers. Waiting their turn to ascend the great spiral staircase to the central platforms where the most powerful animals in the colonies were fellowshipping.
Jana nearly gasped when she submitted the first landing. A shimmering queue of platinum cufflinks, bejeweled designer shawls and ten-thousand credit clutches ran on for half a kilometer past the stair's cordone and down the concourse. An hour early.
While others attending might have worn textured sport jackets, exotic dresses or other such glam chic, Jana was dressed in the only formal attire she could scrounge from her meager closet. Coincidently, it was the only clothing not woven in flame-retardant or ripstop fibers.
She deviated from her usual flightwear choice. Today's selection was her mother's old Cornerian Army green zip-up, its faded olive green finish barely fit her and was making things warmer. Underneath, her coppery-tan fur clung to an ivoty-coloured shirt she'd never worn before.
Her derrière and tail were managed by a pair of too-tight black trousers, which were not ideal for the midday heat. It was all rounded out with a pair of wayfarer-framed sunglasses custom fit to her head.
This Image was a matter of frustration to Jana; a multi-layered dress parody of the Star Fox dynasty. An image she'd escaped from years ago, to the disappointment of many.
Despite the frustrated line, Star Fox kept climbing. Several stared and murmured at the errant pauper making her way up. One woman, an angelically dressed pink bovine, was fanning herself as she locked eye daggers with Jana.
Jana McCloud shrugged cockily.
The galaxy was a complex place, but some answers to some questions were simple. The wreath's bidding appeared more of a scepter: ground zero of political control. And, these folks were looking to dive right in. Their best chance to enter the discourse.
Before she knew it, a Vikr guard blocked Jana's access to the terminal. A dog's hand with four-and-a-half fingers held to her chest.
Jana was nearly tempted to reduce his fingers further.
"Please wait in line, madam, like everyone else. And, no drinks beyond this point."
He had been assertive enough, so Jana listened to the first part. Though she didn't want to face the smug aura of the assembled coat-riders behind her.
Mercifully, scans ran before she could pivot around. Another Vikrman whispered in half-thumb's ear.
"Zekial, says you're good."
Jana smiled, almost asking who 'Zekial' was. Didn't matter yet, front of the pack.
She ignored the drink restriction and took one final inventory of operations before slipping into a self-mandated rest cycle.
Spaceside, Falco was in charge. Tadd on observation. Akach and Vuka, ever the professionals, were no-doubt keeping an eye on Vikr's logging of Ketumati movement. James was probably ogling her apprentice, Poppy, by now. A process Jana noted the young hare didn't particularly seem keen to resist. She shuddered.
In one last act of defiance, Jana looked back at the would-be elbow-rubbers and grinned as her red-tinged PDA snapped a quick photograph of the crowded gate. As the guards whisked her forward through the sliding glass-gateway, she typed another message and tapped send.
J: VIP booth… Come find me.
Twenty-five minutes later, Jana had stepped off the repulsor ferry to the gathering of suspended central platforms that hung over the center of the Wreath's crater-like maw.
The real party. A circular ladder of repulsor-craft, each with its own purpose. Some for private transportation, others lavish lounges and barrooms. Even more, like Jonny Huynh's own, were intended for small, deliberately chosen groups.
The show had already started down on the stage. The center's center, a slowly oscillating heptagonal platform resting at the lowest level of the high society's imitation of Kivi's flotsam fleet.
Armstrong Vikr's booming voice and image displayed through the numerous interfaces laced throughout the platforms. He was in triumphant form too, the green-eyed stag delivering a moving state-of-the-colonies to his cherry-picked retinue.
Alone in Jonny's private box, Jana sighed as she pressed her face against the cool glass. A dozen vacant wingback chairs flanked her, with no one else to fit them. Not even family. There were no placards or assignments, so Jana had taken residence in the seat closest to the foldover Alumniglass wraparound window.
The view was very much like the Dot's observation deck. Two meter's of the glass-like metal hung over the edge, with a lovely beveled edge creating a full window you could walk over. Open-ocean, standing a kilometer over a seven-axis waterfall as the Northern Sea plummeted down to the bottom.
As a semi-transparent hologram of Vikr's continued to rattle of in the center of the room, Jana grew increasingly impatient with her phonelink's distinct lack of repartee. Liana was stalling for effect, and it was working.
Jana was busy studying each of the Wreath's seven points, not listening to a single word being spoken, when the box's door alarm rang.
She sprung alive.
Go! Jana thought with a snap of her fingers.
A burst of red-light emitted from her jacket's rightmost sleeve, her virtual lockpick displaying an almost ballet-like grace as it weaved its way through the line of chairs and cocktail tables.
It went to work on the lock. Wirelessly cloning, evaluating and ultimately ignoring its cryptographic intricacy. It was no match; a few milliseconds later, the door panel shined green. Jana's master key at work: Access granted.
When it occurred to Jana that the doors could be locked the same way, she took a bit more of a sensual edge on her greeting words than she intended. Just what she'd like, anyway.
"Let yourself in, love."
The door slid, and a black cat did. Though, not Jana's cat.
She was mortified.
"Sorry, I-"
"-You were expecting someone else?" A man's voice asked with amusement.
The serious looking cat in a Vikr gear slid aside as a more jovial looking mustela walked past her.
Elegant. Stately. A posture so vertically rigid that he seemed to float. A voice spoken with might and gusto. A talent for voice control that seemed to bless the space around them with an aura of superiority.
When Jana recognized who it was, these observations made considerably more sense.
"Duke Starkly," She exclaimed, more than a little surprised by his presence.
"You can drop the fairytail title," he chortled. "It's just, Demi."
His words were humble. Happy sounding, too. But, Jana could see only the reddened, suffering eyelids of a man doing his best. A father's grief swirling through the motions. Demitrius Jean-Starkly shouldn't have been here, and even he knew it.
Jana didn't know she was standing. There was not much else she could do or say.
"I wanted to thank you personally, my dear."
Jana searched his gaze, tilting her head slightly. Puzzled for a moment.
"For returning my daughter."
Most of her, perhaps. Jana thought, unkindly. She took her time to parse through the words she'd use, and her reply was much kinder.
"You never have to thank me."
Demitrius approached the foldover window and stared down to his chief executive. The stag was wrapping up now.
"I guess not," Demi said, turning back to Jana. "This is your calling, after all."
"Your legacy. Saving Lylation blood. Or in this case… Avenging."
"I'm no hero," Jana admitted.
He laughed graciously, in reply. "Apparently my accounting team agrees."
"You've been more than generous," Jana replied.
"It's just money," he said, half smiling. He inhaled deeply before continuing.
"And, I've been re-thinking things recently."
Daryn's counting on that. Jana acknowledged to herself, refusing to allow herself to be caught in her former employer's massive gray net again.
"It isn't your fault, Demi," Jana blurted.
As she expected, his front broke. As did his voice.
"I should never have let her go."
"Wasn't yours," Jana marched on, telling the truth as she saw it. "Wasn't Ariane's either."
"It's a nice sentiment," He replied downcast. "But, a father is supposed to protect his children. I was supposed to protect her."
"You did."
"I tried," he corrected.
An awkward silence filled the air.
"All I can do now is try to make things right," Jean-Starkly declared. "Peace. The way she would have wanted."
"And, I'm having trouble with it."
He looked up again, the weight of over thirty-million souls carried in his golden eyes.
"Knowing if I'm strong enough. Knowing where to begin."
"Don't hesitate," Jana said suddenly.
Jana's quickly delivered advice surprised herself just as much as it surprised the elder Mustela.
"Find your moment," Jana continued. "Or, maybe it finds you. I don't know."
"But, when the moment comes. Don't hesitate."
"My father used to say that. Something like that."
It disgusted her, frankly. Digging up a dead man's words. Especially ones she felt so devoid of context or rationality. Jana McCloud had made peace with reality long ago: her father was dead for a reason.
Jean-Starkly perked up a bit.
"I met your father once. Just after the Lylat War."
Here we go…
"He was a little younger than you are now," He chuckled. "And, I was just a boy trying to be a man."
"He told me something I've never forgotten."
Jana motioned for him to spill it.
"He told me to never stop doing the right thing."
"When I look into your eyes, it's like I'm still there. That little ceremony at the end of the war. So many empty seats. A fourteen year-old orphan with the right name, the right amount of money. Wishing I could trade it all for a bit more courage."
Jana smiled through his attempt at a comparative compliment; her deepest annoyance. I'm not him. I plan on living. I plan on coming home.
"I'll find out what happened," Jana promised.
She'd regretted it immediately. A promise to a grieving father in deceptive earnestness. If only to shut him up.
"Zeouna?" He clarified.
He asked without any bitterness; perhaps the only obvious clue to the enormous depth of this man's grief. As if it were exhausting for Demi to even say her target's name. Jana had seen this particular emotional phenomenon before: an almost rhythmic reflex for revenge. Jana knew that justice didn't yet concern him, Demitrius Jean-Starkly just wanted his eldest daughter back.
"I'll find her," Jana lied, carelessly tossing the Duke's grief somewhere on her backlog list of motivations. No need to give up the game this early. He doesn't need to know any of the theories.
He stared silently. A poignant sadness lingered in Demitrius's gaze, leaving Jana with a sorrow that defied easy explanation.
"Demi!" A lovely feminine voice intruded, Its origin now leaned against the box's doorway; only a svelte gray shadow in the corner of Jana's eyes.
Jean-Starkly leapt, remembering the time and his public demeanor.
"I have one last person I need to talk to," he said apologetically. He slapped Jana on the shoulder and shook, the tell tale signs of regret still lingering in his eyes.
"Come now, Demi" the stranger continued, arms crossed. "I'll work something out with this one."
"I'm ashamed to admit I didn't RSVP," He said, vigorously re-applying as much energy as he could muster for his public mask.
"In the meantime, I will leave my new partner with you. She's been invaluable to me since Ari-"
He never finished the sentence. He just froze. Jana nodded to him from across the room, letting him know she understood. The right thing.
"I'll be here when you get back, Demitrius," Jana said warmly. "I promise."
Demitrius smiled, nodded and left.
The shadow still hovering by the doorframe chuckled smugly, to Jana's immediate dissatisfaction.
"Well?" The silhouette asked, whoever she was.
"May I enter?"
"Your partner co-owns the place," Jana smarmed. "You tell me."
With a quick wave in, Jana's only guest shrugged and walked an elegant, trotting route toward seaview. With a wave a touch, the 'glass' hinged open in the middle partition; letting in a pleasant sea air. She inhaled the sea air and turned back to Jana.
Pretty little thing, Jana observed. She immediately regretted it. Mixing business with pleasure was always risky. Or in this case, mixing with said business's self-prescribed pleasure.
Still, it was hard for Jana to avoid satiating her frustrated urges, especially with her resident stranger's hips having swayed the way they did. A very vulpes-like tail bobbing all over, too.
She was a work of art, really. A hybrid's hybrid. An expensive one, too. A lupine base gene, to be sure, but she appeared to have some dog and fox about her as well. Seamless, long gray fur on her head, rough in places. Some lighter fur about her face and the tip of her tail.
They are printing whole new species of Lylations these days. Purple irises, too. A status symbol. Implants likely.
Just some narcissist's unnatural birth from some gene-splicers most expensive designer cumshot. Nothing more, Jana thought crassly to herself as she lingered by the drink station.
She only had one small imperfection. A scar above her left eye that had left a short line of discolored fur across her brow, a scar. It wasn't ugly; if anything Jana thought it made her prettier. But, then again, Jana was always attracted to a fight.
Jana motioned to her guest if she wanted a drink. After a nod, she pointed at the dozen or bottles on the hexagonal serving tray.
Jana's hand avoided the fruity, medium-end spirits and instead wound its way around the slender neck of a very well hidden bottle. The eldest McCloud's favorite: Miyagikyo fourteen. Not twenty, not twelve. Fourteen years.
"You read my mind," the purple-eyed damsel said.
A classically-trained drinker too!
Jana wasted no time. She bit the cork, spat it out and poured two servings each into crystal tumblers. She handed her guest the glass, and they both returned to the open window.
The dainty little thing looked like she had a lot to say as they leaned against the glass. And, having noticed the wide-screen PDA and stylus hanging off the hybe's belt loop, Jana began to dread the whole affair.
"The Jana McCloud?" She asked in a bubbly tone, awash with an optimism that had long since faded from Jana's own repertoire.
It all became so clear in an instant. Jana was used to them. Their inquiries. The journalistic class that sought to keep her name relevant, much to Jana's detriment.
"In the fur," Jana said, flourishing with faux-melodrama.
"The Butcher of Titania?" Purple-eyes continued. "I've heard so much about you."
"Sounds like most of it was good," Jana mocked, raising her glass.
"This is yours, by the way," the hybrid said, pointing to the small, rectangular cerulean box in the hands of the still-present security guard just outside the box. The cat approached, handing over the trinket with both hands.
It was embossed with Jana's name in gold leaf. A single red linen bow running mid-center for decorative charm. As she expected, none of the other gift boxes on the table had this.
"You can leave now, Yuki," Aster snapped, a cut of curt venom on her tongue. Demitrius' servant nodded curtly, before hightailing it away.
Jana studied the gift, emitting a disparaging giggle. She was embarrassed for Jonny again. She thanked Demi's partner with a simple amused smile.
"Aster," she introduced. She smiled equally in her eyes and pearl white teeth as they shook hands. A stupid grin.
They sat. Aster uncrossed her right leg and leaned toward her captive audience. She kept that stupid grin on her face. This was an old routine, and Jana didn't react more than to confirm her suspicions.
"Let me guess. Colonial Indice?" Jana accused, her question muttered with barely contained furiosity.
An impatient woman, Jana didn't wait for a response.
A red bolt of plasma shielded energy shot from Jana's wrist and snaked it's way to Aster's chest. With the flick of her finger, the McCloud twin invoked Aster's own device and compelled it to reveal itself as a hologram image on her wrist. It didn't even take a second, and she revealed it proudly for Aster to see like a poker player revealing their hand.
"L'Avant Poste? Surprise, surprise."
The floating image of a still grinning Aster appeared, plastered directly on her digital entry card. As the hologram floated closer, a self-satisfied Jana plucked it from her own keychain and flicked it back toward Aster.
It dissolved into flakes of digital red light before Aster's eyes. Her gaze sat indifferent.
"Sounds like you've already made up your mind."
Why did she have to be from The Outpost? The cobbled mess of poorly-sourced garbage wasn't much more than a tabloid in Jana's experience.
"Editor-In-Chief?" Jana asked, pretending Asters form wasn't the reason for her invitation. Guerrilla news outfits weren't usually welcome this close to Vikr's inner circle.
"No," Aster divulged with embarrassment.
"Got a last name I can search you by?"
"I've been called a lot of choice ones. But, it's just Aster," she said, to Jana's nonreaction.
"I'm sure. They wouldn't let you in with a writer's pseudonym."
"Let?" Jana's new fixation balked. A petite, rebellious giggle; to Jana's bemusement.
"I'm not a writer."
"No?"
"But, you've probably seen some of my work."
Jana huffed in purposeful mockery. "Probably not."
A few minutes went by as some more of Armstrong's fluffers delivered remarks.
All the while, the annoying, if cute, little fly Jana had picked up desperately petitioned for attention. A flick of her tail here, a studious smile there.
"Strange, isn't it?" Aster finally asked, grinning askew. "Like some are fated to meet?"
Jana thought it was cute. Misguided, but cute.
"I don't believe in fate."
"You don't think things happen for a reason?"
"They don't," Jana explained. "Things don't happen until we make them happen. We make reason. We give purpose."
"If that's true," the fly grinned, "I'm choosing to give this moment purpose. You can choose to as well."
A buzzard's offering. Jana's arms crossed again as she forced a sour expression. It had to be forced, Aster's gift for nonverbal charm was simply intoxicating.
"I don't do interviews," Jana declared.
"I'm not looking for one."
"So said the last pretty face that cornered me."
"You find it hard to trust people." Aster said boldly, a very direct statement masquerading as a question.
"I don't."
"Trust easily?"
"At all," Jana spoke decisively.
"Well then," Aster puffed. "I was only working up the courage to ask you if you had a stick of gum."
"Lousy conversation starter."
It worked though. Jana obliged, reaching into her suit jacket's interior. She handed Aster a foil-wrapped stick.
"Next time, just ask me out on a date. Like an adult."
Aster burned bright red under her fur, aghast at Jana's romantic aggression. They both chuckled once.
"Really, though?" Aster asked in disbelief. "You trust no one?"
"You're not making it any easier."
The gorgeous hybrid's eyelids creased again. She clearly never backed down from a challenge, either. Jana was growing to like it: Aster's audacious confidence.
"Do you even know what trust feels like?"
Jana inhaled, rolled her eyes, and faced the seatmate holding her attention-span hostage.
"Indulge me," Jana commanded sarcastically, her full form imposing over the more diminutive Aster.
"Being helpless with someone?"
"I'm sorry?"
"Helpless," Aster repeated. "That's what trust is. Just letting yourself be vulnerable. Your life completely in the hands of someone who you know you can rely on."
"You just described another form of captivity," Jana said with a sly grin on her snout.
"It's like family," Aster clarified, shaking her head. "You know what I mean, too. Legacy."
Jana did.
"Sometimes it's risky," Aster continued. "Sometimes It's not always for the better. Not being able to let go. Sometimes you make mistakes for people you love-"
"-But you know they'd make mistakes for you too," Jana inferred.
Aster reclined, clearly feeling accomplished for her initial breakthrough.
"So you do understand then?" She asked.
Jana indicated confusion with the turn of a hand and an indifferent stare.
"What the people on this planet are going through," Aster clarified.
Jana rolled her eyes. Another peacenik blowhard.
"Look," Jana said, leaning in. "I know better than to ask if this is off-the-record so I'll cut straight to the chase."
"Your readers live in a prison of their own making. No one forced them to come here. No one told them to take up arms. They taught themselves to kill."
"So they're villains, then?" Aster asked.
"No," Jana stated. "Time for you to grow up. There's no such thing. It's never so simple."
Aster seemed sated by Jana's moral quandary, but her face's features collapsed in a skeptical glance.
"In my experience," Jana continued. "We're all capable of the same horror. The same brutality."
"But, also the same beauty! That capability for growth," Miss glass-half-full argued back, unable to contain her counterargument. The yin to Jana's yang.
"We can choose to be more. Even you!"
Even me? Jana didn't want to ruin a perfectly good potential midnight root with the threat of something becoming more rooted. But, Aster was making Jana's forced nearsightedness fairly difficult.
"Everyone thinks they're the latter," Jana opined. "No one believes they're the problem."
"What about you?" Aster asked.
They both took sips. Jana's was closer to a gulp.
"I don't care."
"It's useless to wonder. And, I hate useless things."
"I solve problems. I make things happen because no one else will. Rather than whine about it in the evening post."
"How very thoughtful of you," Aster observed sarcastically, a superior grin pursed on her muzzle.
"At least someone's thinking!"
"Very utilitarian," Aster dismissed. She let silence fill the air, and for once Jana felt the need to fill it.
"Your naivety is dangerous," Jana accused.
"Your muddled tyranny is no better," Aster replied. "It really never haunts you? The finality of your actions."
"I think it haunts you, actually," Jana defended, "The idea that I don't reflect on the duality of animals all that much."
"No?"
"I just… Intuit." Jana flourished, her hand bending in a wave-like motion.
"And just where has that gotten you?" Aster asked, a smug grin pursed on her muzzle.
"Happy?"
"When I'm doing my work."
"Content?
"When the job's done."
"What about peace?"
"That's the other McCloud's thing."
"Sounds like you're running," Aster accused.
"Is that your intuition?" Jana asked, head tilted in aggressive amusement where she should have been insulted; Jana never ran.
They blinked, stalemate. Aster dropped her gaze, purple eyes with occasional shimmering flecks of aquamarine blue, and giggled. A revealing laugh. It seemed she had been countercharmed by Jana's bleak, unbreakable confidence.
"Experience, unfortunately," Aster professed. "My Intuition kept me talking to you. So, I suppose that's close enough."
Jana was now fully oriented toward her guest, her arms reclined wide over the wing backs of her seat. Aster, this captivating hybe, truly had an answer for everything.
Jana smiled earnestly and she felt the first light breath of the day. It was like she'd cast off a weighted blanket and be herself. Maybe this was her peace, at least for the next few hours.
"Close enough," Jana repeated, mocking her rival's posh accent.
"Careful, Aster," Jana warned, suddenly changing to a grave disposition.
The prestigious mutt perked up to a more receptive ear. Unclear, but not fazed, by Jana's next potential words.
"It could get you much closer."
Jana's PDA rumbled violently. Taking her right out of the moment. A dreaded name invoked itself in her right eye's vision: Jonny Huynh.
Jana stood, caressing the quivering PDA.
"I need to take this," she apologized.
"What? No time for my pithy comeback?" Aster asked with wicked wit. "Those are all off-the-record, by the way."
Jana laughed. She'd known it was all off the record. "I can't reveal all my secrets, Aster."
"Please, McCloud. You've shown me all I need to know."
"You've not seen everything you want, now, have we?" Jana smarmed. "Everything you could sell, maybe."
Aster bit the end of her stylus, then held it out between her index finger and thumb like an artist admiring sculpted clay. She'd absorbed Jana's double entendre with glee, before effortlessly providing a witticism of her own. Aster didn't blink; she never even glanced askew.
"No. I could probably sell those, too."
It had been a good fight, but Jana was finally defeated.
"Maybe you're right about fate," Jana confessed. "Some people are fated to meet."
She stood, regretting the soon-coming absence from her charming new friend with alarming new perspectives. But, Jana's PDA rang again. Same caller; higher priority.
"And sometimes," the fox lamented, "People are destined to be pulled apart."
Aster took a moment to consider what Jana said as the latter retreated.
"I choose not to believe that."
Jana heard those words, and was more than happy to hope she'd be proven wrong by Aster again.
As Jana swept over her wrist interface and accepted the call with a tap, she made sure to brush Ingrid's head with her tail on her way out. A little memento to keep her memory fresh, of course.
Out on the breezy concourse, Jana finally answered.
"Jana," she said, devoid of interest.
"Jana!" A familiar Simian's voice chirped all-to-loudly. "You have a moment?"
"Don't you have a show to be running?" Jana asked, wincing. "Like, in five minutes?"
"I wouldn't worry about that."
"First. Did you get my gift?" He asked, marching past the obvious.
"Sure did," Jana replied.
"Two magnets," He rushed on, "Any place on your ear! Kind of like a VI link for your house!"
Jana opened her box with a slight pull of the bow, revealing two shell-casing width tabs. She followed his instructions, just wanting the call to be over.
"Does it matter which ear?"
"No! They'll stick. Any species with a thin enough ear."
Her's were. The two magnetic clips stuck and then she felt a quick buzzing sensation. No worse than a home-linked device, just as he'd promised.
"Okay," Jana said. "Now what?"
Between banter, Jana doubled back on her platform's decking, looking through the doorway to her private box. She was looking for Aster, of course. Hoping to see her lovely, lopsided smirk back in the box.
But she was gone. Vanished.
"I need you for something," Jonny said.
"You need me?"
Jana's perception went white for a moment.