Lady Luck

by K. C. Cross

CHAPTER TWENTY - NYLEENA

  Luck didn’t say another word to me the whole time we suited back up, cycled through two airlocks, then took the suits off and hung them back up in his staging room back inside the station.

  Not a single word. Not even a grunt or a huff.

  And I tried. I asked him what he had planned for today.

  He didn’t answer me. The only thing he said was, “See you at four,” just before he walked off towards some random hallway.

  Meaning, our standing appointment for secret garden sex.

  Fine.

  We’re back where we started. That’s actually a great place to be. I might not have made much progress yesterday but today is different.

  I am on a mission. I am the silver Cygnian princess Nyleena, for fuck’s sake. And if there’s one thing I’m great at—aside from blowing up worlds with my light—it’s scheming and plotting. I’m going to scheme the fuck out of this day starting right now.

  And it all starts with Baby ALCOR.

  How dare he send me to his automated calendar.

  Does he even know who I am?

  I take seven escalators and two elevators to get back up to the top levels where I know for a fact Baby ALCOR hangs out.

  He has an office next to the harem room and that’s where I’m going. I’m gonna sit my ass down in his waiting room until he makes time for me. I’m gonna—

  “Nyleena!”

  I turn at the shout and find Delphi and Lyra walking my way. I wave and head towards them. Because these two are the only people on this whole station I can really relate to. They are like me. We are alike. We are the same. We all risked everything to leave the Cygnian System behind and start a new life.

  If anyone will understand my desire to go out in the deep dark and find my own way, it’s them.

  “Hey,” I say, once they’re within earshot. “What are you guys doing?”

  “Going to a screen,” Lyra says. “You wanna come? It’s a brand new Jax Justice action flick. In this one he’s fighting the Lorians. Giant cyborg assholes who want to enslave all the Centurian women and force them to have half-breed Centborgion babies.”

  “Sexy,” I say, then frown. Screens are kinda pricey and I already spent next week’s allowance on yesterday’s outfit. Which was super dumb of me now that I know Luck bought me Xyla’s entire closet as payment for extra sex. “I don’t have any credits left.”

  “I’ll pay,” they both say at the same time. Then, “Jinx!” Then, “Double jinx!”

  Then they laugh and laugh. Like they are sisters.

  Delphi is not Lyra’s sister. I am.

  God, I want to gag. Why did I think we were the same again? We’re not. I’m not like anyone on this place.

  Except Corla. I wish I could talk to Corla.

  “Hey. Have you gone to see Corla yet?” I ask Delphi.

  “No,” she says. “I don’t see the point. They’re not gonna wake her up until we catch Veila. I’ll just see her then.”

  “Hmm,” I say, a scheme forming in my head. “Which beacon is she on again?”

  They both shoot each other one of those looks. The kind that say, Uh-oh. Nyleena’s scheming.

  “I just want to see her.”

  “Believe me,” Delphi says, “no one is going to let you get within a million klicks of that beacon.”

  “I’m not gonna wake her up, for fuck’s sake. I just… want to visit her.”

  “Not gonna happen,” Lyra says. Then she takes my hand and tugs me along as they start to walk again. “Come see a screen with us. It’ll be fun. We never spend any time together anymore. I miss you.”

  “I’m sorta busy today,” I say, resisting her pull.

  “Doing what?” Lyra asks.

  I shoot Delphi a look, because she’s part of my scheme in progress. But she’s making a slicing motion across her throat basically telling me to shut up about Earth.

  I can respect that. So I say, “Trying to get a meeting with Baby ALCOR. I need info about something.”

  Delphi smiles. And I scowl back at her. My look clearly says, You owe me. Get ready to pay up soon. Because once I get her that info about Earth I will expect her to tell me exactly what happened to Valor back on Mighty Minions.

  “We’re going to miss the promos,” Delphi says. “How about we meet up later, Nyleena? After dinner, maybe?”

  “Sounds perfect,” I purr. “I’ll have what I need by then and we can… chat.”

  “Great!” she quips. “Come on, Lyra.”

  Lyra waves as Delphi pulls her off in the opposite direction.

  How are they so content to be stuck here? I don’t get it.

  But you know what? They can stay here and be bored for eternity for all I care.

  I have places to go and people to see.

  Well, waiting out an AI is probably not the best scheme I’ve ever come up with. He appears to have infinite patience because I sit in his office for hours. I wait so long my stomach is rumbling with hunger and his cyborg assistant is shooting me dirty looks.

  Finally, I’ve had enough. I stand up and march over to her console and cross my arms in front of my chest, just in case she hasn’t caught on to the idea that I’m annoyed as fuck. “How much longer?”

  “I don’t know,” she says, her one red eye racing across her face. “You can always make an—”

  “I know,” I say, putting up a hand to stop her. “You’ve told me to make an appointment several times. But the first available is three days out.”

  “He’s very busy, Princess. I’m sorry. I don’t control him, I’m just a guiding hand.”

  “Can’t you guide him in my direction? I mean, I really need to talk to him. Baby ALCOR!” I yell, looking up at the ceiling. “Talk to me!”

  “That won’t help,” the cyborg assistant says. “He’s not here.”

  “Where is he?”

  “I’m afraid I can’t give out his schedule. But,” she says, her voice lifting a little, like she’s about to be helpful, “I can make you an appointment.”

  I growl at her and walk out.

  Fine. He wins.

  For now. Because I’m gonna find a way to get that information about Earth today. No matter what.

  Anyway, it’s time for my regularly scheduled tryst with Luck in the secret garden. I pull up my schedule to see which sector we’re meeting in. Then I activate the little button I’m supposed to before I head towards it so no one can track me.

  Today we’re on level one hundred twenty-two. Right near the Harem Station History Museum.

  It’s a little hidden gem tucked away in the middle of a huge mechanical room that, according to the station map Luck gave me to find the gardens, runs the interactive content inside the museum.

  There’s no privacy at all. It’s literally a patch of grass in the middle of the room. No walls around it like the others. But it’s not the first secret garden that was designed this way. A few others were in huge mechanical rooms and Luck told me it’s because the robotic shit inside these rooms is so rudimentary and automated, they do not qualify as minds. They are simply brainless machines that don’t require any sort of intervention.

  Like an autocook, I guess. That’s a complicated set of circuits, for sure. But it doesn’t have a brain. You can’t say, “Hey, autocook, make me something delicious and sweet.” You have to program in a sequence of numbers for your specific recipe. It can’t even respond to voice commands.

  That’s what these machines are.

  There are no trees. And that makes me wonder what will grow when I finish myself off after we’re done.

  Because I have decided that last night was definitely a mistake. I should not have let myself loose like that. It’s very dangerous. And telling him my little time secret was my worst mistake yet.

  He’s gonna tell everyone. Then what? What will they do with me? Lock me up in a cryopod like Corla? I mean, sure. I was just musing this morning about how nice it would be to dream the gold dream inside a cryopo
d, but how do I know Corla is dreaming? She could be inert. Mindless. She could be floating in darkness.

  I don’t want to risk it. If they find out I’m holding secrets inside they might shoot me out to one of those beacons and keep me on ice until…

  Until what?

  I snort laugh. I’m being paranoid and stupid.

  Lyra is already here.

  The only reason Corla is locked up like that is because Veila was missing and then she turned into the enemy.

  Lyra and I are nothing like Corla and Veila. We’re a team. We’re solid.

  I’m fine.

  I check the time on my air screen and realize Luck is late.

  He’s never late for sex. Ever.

  I ping him and my call gets routed right to his voicemail.

  “This is Luck,” his voice grumbles. “Obviously I’m busy or I’d have answered your call. Or maybe I don’t want to talk to you? So before you leave me a pointless message, consider that.”

  Beep.

  I don’t leave a message.

  Obviously he’s busy.

  Or… he’s done with me. I did piss him off this morning. He took me out to Lady Luck and showed me around and I insulted his job.

  Was I mean?

  I wasn’t trying to be mean. I just want to make it perfectly clear that I’m not interested in scouring junkyards.

  When I leave the secret garden and enter the main concourse again, there’s a giant flashing holographic sign in front of the museum telling me that admission is free today.

  Was that there before?

  I don’t know. But I decide to go in and check it out because if this is the history of Harem Station then there should be an interactive teenage Luck running around in there.

  And at that thought… I brighten and go inside.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE - LUCK

  Stations are so much better than planets because planets are difficult to settle and if you happen upon one that’s already settled, it’s usually a little bit backwards and doesn’t have a lot of humanoid variety.

  The backwards part isn’t an insult, it’s just a fact. Once you’re on a planet you’re pretty much stuck there. The amount of energy it takes to go in and out of such a large gravity well is the definition of effort.

  And unless the planet’s system has a nearby gate, it typically has only one species of humanoid on it.

  There are over a hundred different species of humanoids on Harem Station. And that’s not including the bots and borgs.

  Everything about Harem is weird, and mixed up, and… quite frankly, amazing.

  This is why I don’t really understand why Nyleena wants to leave. I mean, I get it. She wants to go places. See things. Explore.

  But… that’s the definition of my job. That’s what I do! And then I come home. To here. This rich, culturally diverse, super-station.

  So how can she not see herself in my life? My life has practically been set up to her dream standards.

  I don’t understand it.

  The bar where Cha-Cha hangs out is on level three hundred and nine. High enough up to avoid the riff-raff down below, but far enough removed from the top of the station where we live to feel like you have to make an effort to get there.

  It’s a dart bar called Erbotica. For some reason sexbots are obsessed with playing darts and whenever I want to find Chach, Xyla, or Ladybug, I check here first.

  They are in the back being loud. Xyla is throwing magnetic darts at Prince-bot’s spherical body because for whatever reason, he’s painted up like a bullseye.

  Delphi’s evil dragonbee bot, Flicka, is whizzing around Prince, buzzing with excitement as Cha-Cha and Ladybug keep handing Xyla more ammunition.

  I’m just about to interrupt and say hello, when Cha-Cha sees me and whistles loudly to make everyone shut up.

  “Luck,” she says, brightening as she walks towards me, all her mechanical joints loose from the special bot-juice whiskey they drink. “What’s up, my master?”

  “Nothin’,” I say.

  “Nothing?” Xyla asks. All the sexbots have articulated features so they can do humanoid expressions pretty well. Xyla’s raised eyebrow is a perfect example of this special sexbot feature. She makes this face, which I recognize as her accessing her internal database, and then says, “My calendar says you’ve got a hot date with Nyleena right about now. So why are you here talking to us instead of sneaking around those secret gardens getting laid?”

  “You hacked my calendar?” I ask.

  “When don’t I hack your calendar?” Xyla says.

  Xyla was the only other person here on the station when my brothers and I landed on Harem. It wasn’t called Harem back then. Just ALCOR Station. She and ALCOR had been friends for a very long time before we showed up. And even though Xyla and Jimmy immediately became tight once we came on board, she was still very close to Real ALCOR.

  She misses him just as much as we do. Maybe more.

  That’s part of the reason Ladybug and Cha-Cha took her to Blue Sand Beach for a vacay.

  They were so drunk when I picked them up and told them we had to go save Jimmy. But when you’re a sexbot, being drunk is a choice. They take some kind of antagonist to clear the bot juice from their system and presto. No longer drunk.

  They are all a little drunk right now.

  Flicka buzzes over and lands on my shoulder. This one makes me nervous. I think she makes everyone nervous. They are banned here but for this one exception. We all know what dragonbee bots are capable of. And according to Jimmy she took out a whole horde of cyborgs back on Lair Station by shooting a few puffs of poison out her ass.

  I flick her off and shrug my shoulders to hold down the chill running up my spine.

  Prince just hovers there covered in magnetic darts and says nothing.

  “Seriously,” Chach says. “Why aren’t you banging Nyleena?”

  “We’re fighting,” I say.

  “Here, you poor baby,” Ladybug says. “Have a drink.”

  Organic humans can drink botjuice, but not a lot of it. One mug and you’re drunk. Two and you’re sick for days. “Thanks,” I say, taking the mug she’s offering. I sip it, then sigh. “I need advice,” I say.

  “About what?” Chach asks.

  “Nyleena.”

  All of them trade a weird, suspicious look. Even Flicka gets in on this. She flies over to Xyla and starts buzzing around her ear. Xyla, whether she means to or not, begins nodding her head.

  “What’s going on with Nyleena?” Ladybug asks. She’s staring at me with wide, red eyes. Her whole body is naked of clothes. Just smooth metal. Black and shiny. She’s been dressing like this ever since we got back from Mighty Minions and Ladybug goes inside the Pleasure Prison to hang out all the time. One perk about being a bot? No pod necessary to join in on sexy virtual fun. They just access it directly through their minds.

  If Tray came to us one of these days and said he wanted us to extract his mind and put it in a bot body, I would not be surprised. Then he could go in there all he wants and never worry about his body back in the gaming pod.

  “She wants to leave the station,” I say.

  They all trade that look again and I’m just about to ask what’s up with that when Xyla says, “And that’s a problem, why?”

  “Because I’m getting used to her. She’s not so bad, you guys. But I’m not sure she feels the same way about me. I mean, I don’t want her to go. Now she’s mad at me for offering to let her join me and take Valor’s place on the salvage team. And ever since she revealed a secret to me last night I find her situation to be a lot more sympathetic.”

  “What’d she tell you?” Xyla asks.

  “I don’t think I should say. It’s kinda personal.”

  Xyla raises that eyebrow again. “Luck. If you know something about her that we don’t, you need to tell us. Do I need to remind you what she really is?”

  “I know what she is. And I’m not telling you what she told me. It’s very persona
l. If she wanted anyone else to know, she’d have told you herself.”

  “She can’t have secrets,” Xyla explains. “She’s too dangerous. And didn’t Crux order you to tame her ass down?”

  “No,” I say. “He told me to tell her to get a job. So that’s why I’m so conflicted now. If he really does give her a ship and she leaves the station, then she kinda has a job, right?”

  “Do you really think he’s going to give her a ship?” Chach asks.

  “He better,” I say. “He made a deal with her. I expect him to hold up his end.”

  This time there is no shared look. But the Prince-bot starts beeping and whistling as he picks the magnetic darts off his body using one of his grabby hands.

  “I know,” Xyla snarls at him.

  “What’s he saying?” I ask. I open my air screen to pull up a translator, but by the time it starts translating, Prince has gone quiet. “What was that about?” I ask Xyla.

  Xyla looks at me for a long second. Like she’s weighing her options. Trying to figure out if she should tell me or not.

  But then Ladybug says, “You know what the real problem is here?”

  “What?” I ask, turning to meet her fiery-red eyes.

  “This is about commitment.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Nyleena wants to know someone has her back. I mean, think about things from her perspective. She’s a silver princess. God only knows what her life was like back in the Cygnian System.” Ladybug visibly shudders. “I mean, they made her into a bomb.”

  “How do you know they made her? Maybe she was just born that way?”

  The girls all shrug. Like they’re not sure it matters.

  But I think it matters. If they made her into a bomb, that’s awful. And rejecting that is normal.

  But if this is just her—just the way she is—then that’s different. She should be allowed to be herself. She should not have to reject something that goes so deep. If silver princesses are just born with this amazing, explosive light inside them, then why should she have to change her inner nature to make the rest of us feel safer?

  Fuck. No wonder she wants to leave.

  “Not the point,” Ladybug continues. “My point is that she needs a champion, Luck. And if you’re her soulmate, that’s your job.”