“That’s nice of you to say so,” I said with equal graciousness. “I appreciate it.”
“Well, I don’t want you to get on my mom’s legendary bad side.” Bayen informed me then. “That would be most unfortunate.”
“I don’t have that much of a temper, young man.” Fran said with a slight chuckle of her own.
Bayen glanced over at his mom. “Don’t lie. You do. I’ve seen it. So did dad when he was alive.”
My curiosity was full blown now upon hearing that bit of news.
“What do you mean…when he was alive? Is he…dead?” I asked in a cautious voice.
Fran shrugged. “I honestly don’t know. And neither does my son.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. I had a similar situation with my dad from long ago. I still haven’t gotten over that incident yet either.”
“You’re in the same boat as well?” Bayen asked gently.
I nodded, feeling the same pain in my heart from a long time ago.
“Yes.”
“My condolences to you, Isis. I did not know.”
I smiled wanly. “Thanks. But never mind that. It’s water under the bridge now.”
“It’s never easy to lose a loved one, dear. You shouldn’t treat such a thing so lightly.” Fran suggested to me.
“I haven’t. But I can’t keep obsessing over it either. It’s not considered healthy.”
“I know all about that.” Bayen remarked to me right then.
I stared at him in surprise. “You too?”
The older man nodded. “Of course. My battles with my own personal demons have been considered legendary in my time. Especially when it involved my dad.”
I stood there for a moment to stew in silence. “I suppose…I should be the one to say that I’m sorry.”
“It’s quite all right.” Bayen said in turn. “But now all the formalities have been dispensed with, what brings you to my mom’s shop? Are you interested in something of hers?”
I turned around in that moment. “I wouldn’t know where to begin. There’s just so many interesting and fascinating things here. Some I’ve never even laid eyes on yet.”
“Like what?” Fran wanted to know–interest piqued.
“The dolls.” I blurted out unexpectedly. “I’ve never had one of my own. But that’s not what concerns me. It’s the fact that they wear such elegant dresses. That just blows my fucking mind.”
Fran looked at me for a moment. “You’ve never had one of your own? A dress I mean?”
“Oh heavens no. No dress. Save for the ones I wore as a little girl back in the day. A long time ago, in fact.” I said with growing envy. “But I grew out of them rather quick because of limited availability and expediency.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Bayen said in ways of an apology.
“Well, I’m not. The desert is no place for beauty pageants. Even by family standards.”
“Still…it wouldn’t hurt to have something that you cherish–would it not?” Fran tested me at that point.
“If these are the asking prices for some of the things I’ve seen in this shop, I can imagine a dress being even more so.” I said.
“Well, I won’t argue that. Some of the nicer things in life can be quite luxurious, but also well worth the price–especially if you plan on cherishing it or holding onto it for sentimental value.” The woman told me up front.
“I know. That’s why I never ask for such things in the first place. One, I could never afford it, and two, it would only get ruined later on.”
“Not if you take care of it, it won’t.” Bayen told me flat out. “I have some things I bought myself and I cherish them always. But you wouldn’t know that by the price each item commanded.”
“Yes, because you can probably afford such lavish things, Bayen.” I answered peevishly. “But I can’t. I don’t have the money to spare. Not on what I make as an auto-frame pilot.”
“I thought pilots in your profession were rolling in the money? Especially the top ranked ones?”
“It depends on the situation. But it rarely happens. In fact, Scratch Jones is the only guy I knew who could make a comfortable living off the sport back in the day. I’m barely squeaking by as is–even though I’ve racked up quite an impressive resume of victories over the past several years. I’m still new to the profession.”
“When did you start racing?”
“Oh, I started at ten. On my dad’s old T-17 Firefly. But I wasn’t able to officially enter until I was fourteen, had enough experience and training and had a couple of sponsors to boot. Racing takes a lot of money and not a lot of it happens all at once. Sometimes, you get a huge payout–but others…? Not so much. That’s why saving what you have is so important during the off season.” I unzipped my pack and pulled out the semi-impressive draw string bag full of credit chips.
“This here represents a month’s worth of winnings.”
Both Fran and Bayen stared at the bag in turn–before they eyed each other in response.
“I’m sorry.” The woman said with open sympathy. “I didn’t realize that you came up with so little money.”
“It’s not the money that counts, Fran. It’s the thoughts that go behind it.” I said, before putting it away and zipping my bag shut.
“That’s why I have to budget what’s given to me. Always.”
“I guess being poor is pretty much all you’ll ever know.” Bayen said in quiet reflection.
“It’s not a bad life.” I told him proudly. “We still have the important things in life. Asking for more than that becomes an impossibility after awhile due to economic and social constraints.”
“Which is why you cherish what you already have.” Fran concluded aptly.
“Exactly.” I chirped in triumph.
~22~
I had to admit, I was having a virtual blast being in the shop and being in Fran’s company and that of her son’s, Bayen Yelou. But a momentary glance outside was telling me that dusk was quickly falling and I needed to shove off before things were really getting late.
“I have to go.” I announced to them at this point, an hour into our recent discussions concerning economics, some politics, and a byte about our favorite books and vid media selections.
“Already?” Fran said with genuine surprise in her voice. “But we were just all getting acquainted with each other.”
I looked over at Bayen who was sitting parked on a counter stool and resting his elbow on his leg. He didn’t look the least bit bored in my presence at all.
“I know. And I’ve enjoyed my time here. But if I don’t get going, I’ll never make it to the Museum of Ancient Artifacts.”
Bayen popped a small chip into his mouth from the bowl that he got from the snack counter in the way back.
Then he said: “You won’t be able to.”
I looked at him smartly. “And why not?”
“Sky tube operations are suspended after seven-thirty in the evening. It’s almost nine right now. You won’t be able to get down to the lower levels by foot anyways because it’s virtually impossible. Plus, the Praetorial Guard increases its night patrols for all concerned citizens and you don’t want to be seen tangling with them at this hour. Curfews and all that.”
I looked around me in a quiet state of building panic.
“What am I supposed to do now? Where am I supposed to go?”
“Do you have any special lodging arrangements?” Fran asked of me then.
I shook my head. “I…never even considered it. I was supposed to be here only a couple hours and then go back home.”
Bayen popped another chip into his mouth and started eating for a few seconds. Then he said: “It’s a little odd how you came up here so late in the day and didn’t even consider the possibility that you might end up spending the night here.”
“It never occurred to me, Bayen. I thought this would be a quick excursion and then I could go back.”
“Anything from the surface is never quick
, honey.” Fran was telling me–after she finished processing another online order from a repeat customer.
“Especially since the wait times at the transit terminals are excessively long.”
My heart sank at that point. “I know. I’m well aware of that reality.”
Bayen nodded in solid agreement.
“Which is one of the reasons why nobody from the surface ever comes up here. They have to always take the afternoon shunt from the terminal and ride it all the way up to the space complex and then spent the next several hours in processing and then…being able to move freely about the city.”
I sighed heavily. “I kinda skipped out on that part. The processing I mean.”
Fran shared a troubled look with her son which communicated more than I would’ve liked in the space of a few seconds.
“You weren’t processed by the Praetorial Guard’s Customs and Arrivals Office?”
I dug out one of the pass cards that Calis had given me. The red one.
“No. Was I supposed to be?” I said, before handing it to Fran for her own personal inspection. She took it off my hands and looked at it for herself.
“Yes, actually. You were.” Bayen said automatically. “We don’t allow any unauthorized visitors into the city without first being logged into the system. To reduce and minimize any possible risks to the complex and its four million citizens.”
My mood darkened then. “I am not a threat, Bayen. I am just a fucking surface dweller!”
“With a long and sordid history for rebellion and murder.” Fran reminded me then, before handing the red pass card back to me.
I took it and stuffed it back into my pouch pocket.
“Does it matter? I’m just here for a damned history lesson. And once that’s done, I can get out of everyone’s hair and go home.” I answered bitterly.
“Isis…my mom’s not blaming you entirely. She only speaks from a historical standpoint.” Bayen tried to mollify at that moment.
“I know how sky dancers up here look down at people like me from the space complex. I’ve read all the incoming transmission packets and news bytes when they become available.” I told him flat out.
“How long ago?” Fran wanted to know, curiosity getting the better of her.
“Every day of my life.” I answered stiffly. “Especially before the war ended.”
“Well, I can only say for myself that I’m not looking down at you in any way, honey. I’m just concerned about our personal safety.”
I drew my blaster from its hip holster and slammed it onto the counter in front of the woman–startling her.
“There. Now you don’t have anything to worry about. I’m not a threat.”
Fran sighed, shaking her head at me before pushing my weapon back to me.
“I did not say you personally were the threat, Isis. But people like you in general. That’s why we’ve had to go to such lengths to safeguard ourselves every which way but north after the incident at Caldera Base.”
“And I’m not blaming you for that. But what happened then happened before my time. Before I was even born in fact.”
“Yes, I know. That’s why I’m not going to kick you out of the store. You have been a most entertaining young woman and an inquisitive guest. Plus…?” Fran stopped to look at her son.
“I think my son enjoys your company. And it’s been too long since he’s actually talked to any girls his age.”
“How old is he?” I wondered.
“I’m about twenty.” Bayen told me. “And mom, it hasn’t been that long since I talked to a girl. I speak with Leona just about every day of the week when I’m down in the lower areas of the Core.”
Fran glowered a bit at that.
“To which, you and I never speak about–remember?”
Despite my own misgivings, my curiosity returned full force. Now I really wanted to know what was going on–especially since another girl was involved!
Bayen sighed heavily. “I know mother. But the money I bring in does help the store–in fact, I was supposed to give this to you.” He said, dipping into the folds of his black trench coat and pulling out a medium-sized draw string bag of his own.
Fran looked at it in astonishment.
“Where did you get this?” She asked, as her son handed her the bag in question. Then she looked at the empty one from which she processed the store’s profits with.
“My winnings.” The sky dancer said with a touch of pride. “I had a pretty good week.”
Fran grew quiet at that point, even as I stood there in silent awe of Bayen himself. Judging from the amount of credit chips in the bag, that was more than even I had on my person.
“Here.” He offered with a bit of gallantry in mind, opening the bag himself and pouring a small portion of the chips out onto the counter itself.
My eyes practically bugged out when I saw the higher denominations stamped on the bulk of the chips.
“I’ve never seen a one-thousand or even a two-thousand chip denomination. Just the usual fifties and hundreds…!” I breathed, taking one of the chips from the pile and studying it from close up.
Bayen looked at me in passing. “You’ve never seen one before?” I giggled with full blown excitement in my voice. “No. Not at any time during the past four years as an auto-frame pilot.” Then I looked at him with puppy dog eyes.
“Can I have it?”
“I don’t think so.” Bayen said, reaching out to pluck the chip from my outstretched fingers. Then he put it back on the rest of the pile.
“Come on…!” I cried out with dismay.
“You’ll have to earn it.” Fran was telling me right then. “But doing what, I have no idea at the present. 2,000 credit chips are not exactly in common use around the Business District. Usually most transactions are done electronically through pass card readers.”
“So I guess carrying it would be a bad thing?” I guessed right off the bat.
Bayen nodded.
“It wouldn’t be safe either. Despite our best efforts to stamp out crime here in the space complex, you can still get mugged or robbed blind if you’re not too careful.”
“I can take care of myself.” I promised out in the open. “I’m not that easily taken.”
“It’s different up here in Stratos City, Isis–then it is on the surface. Different things, different set of rules. Some of which you may not understand or even like.” He cautioned me then.
I nodded, not wanting to argue the point any further.
“Okay. But that chip has my name on it.” I said. “I’ll think of some way to earn it.”
Fran smiled. “I’m sure we can think of something during your brief stay with us.” She said, cleaning up the pile and placing the chips back into the bag. Then she cinched it shut.
I stared at her incredulously. “Stay? You mean…with you?”
Bayen glanced over at his mother. Then he nodded. “Unless you have some other arrangement at this time of night…? Then yes. You’re welcome to stay with us for the time being.”
I hesitated for a couple of moments, trying to see if there was any other way that I could graciously back out of this wonderful offer.
But nothing came to mind. Not when my own thoughts and half-realized fantasies were wrecking havoc with my untamed imagination at this very moment.
I was completely lost. And stupefied.
Fran read my indecision, my hesitation and smiled gently.
“You have nothing to worry about, Isis. We won’t bite.” She reassured me then.
“That’s not my problem, Fran. I just have a long and sad history of not trusting anyone outside of my family and a few close friends.”
“And you don’t think you can trust us?” Bayen demurred. “That’s an odd way of looking at things.”
“It’s nothing personal, Bayen.” I said with some guilt. “I’ve had to learn some pretty harsh lessons along the way that made trusting others a real life problem for me.”
“Well, I can
say I’m not going to do anything that would give you cause or worry for concern.” The young man said. “Though I might have my mom spoil you some elegant chocolates in her possession.”
My ears perked up.
“Chocolate?”
Fran smiled. “I might be able to part with a few select pieces. Providing that you will stay with us of course.”
My mind was awhirl with more questions surrounding this new treat. I only had it a few times as a little girl when my grandmother was alive, but it was so expensive as it was a rare commodity on the surface. Even Calis hadn’t been able to procure any in his travels in the last ten years or so.
“Um…ah…” I started out, torn by indecision. Either I could stay or I could go, but I would have no place to stay the night. I would be at the mercies of forces unbeknownst to me.
And a blaster was a poor choice of defense in a city that looked like it could overpower me in a split second. I reflected helplessly.
I finally nodded, knowing that it would either be a decision I would come to regret or it would be the answer to so many of my problems.
“Okay.” I finally relented. “I’ll stay.”
Fran smiled some more. “Good.”
Bayen could only nod as he watched his mother get up and pull out an electronic security key from her pants pocket and walk over to the main entrance of the shop itself.
I watched her bend down for a second and flip open a cover plate in the wall next to the door itself, then plug the key into a slot and turn it clockwise to the left.
In front of the shop, an electronic barrier came down like a shimmering curtain of resonating energy. Turning the key to the six o’clock position, Fran pulled it out–locking in the anti-theft system into its own security mode.
This would prevent any would be opportunists and thieves from breaking in.
Fran pocketed the key and then turned to face both me and Bayen.
“Make sure you turn the lights down to their customary evening mode, Bayen.” She instructed her son at that point before holding a hand out towards me in passing.
The Starchild Page 17