by S. E. Smith
“Do you mind letting go?” Karissa raised her eyebrows and glanced at his hand on her arm. “Unless I’m under arrest?”
“Sorry.” He released her and allowed himself to drift a little away from her in the silvery antigrav stream. “Someone’s going to be in trouble for this stunt, but not you, unless it was your idea.” He keyed his com to report in. “I’ve got Karissa and we’re on the move.”
“Good work. We’re clearing the casino now,” Jake answered. “A Level is congested, can you take her to my office on level 13 until the situation clears? Then you can escort her to her suite.”
“Will do.” Raising his voice from the nearly inaudible tones the AI utilized for private communications, he addressed his companion. “We’ll have to hang out in my boss’s office for a bit.”
“So I’m in detention?” Tilting her head, she smiled.
“No, of course not, Miss Dawnstar.” Very important passenger, keep the tone congenial. He might not relish this job but it was his employment for now and he couldn’t afford to blow it off over annoyance with a pop star. “This was for your safety and the safety of the other passengers.”
“Just Karissa,” she said. Hands on her hips as she floated in the gravlift, she raised her eyebrows. “And you are?”
“Sorry, Officer Grant Barton.” He reached out to shake the hand she offered and tried not to stare at her wildly decorated fingernails and the jewel-encrusted ring big as his palm. “Should have introduced myself earlier but I was concentrating on the extraction.”
Everything he said seemed to amuse her, as she chuckled now. “Like a dentist?”
“What? No, sorry, military terminology for removing personnel when it’s considered imperative they be immediately relocated out of a hostile environment and taken to a secure area.”
“My fans certainly aren’t hostile.” Her frown was epic, her arched eyebrows punctuating her displeasure. “Over-enthusiastic sometimes maybe.”
“There were way too many of them crammed into that small space and a lack of proper exits. The AI tells me we never use the Observatory for events.”
She shrugged. “I was glad to see you, I’ll admit. Ted— my manager— said the pop up signing was approved so take it up with him.”
“Arranging events is above my pay grade, thankfully. I’m sure my boss will be talking to the guy. We get off here.” He extended a hand to stop their progress and then opened the portal to the admin deck. Checking to see other than a few crew members, the corridor was empty, he allowed her to precede him. “We go left and the office is just a few doors down.”
One of the women in the corridor drew the other out of the way with a giggle. “Karissa! I can’t believe I ran into you here, in crew territory.”
The singer gave a little wave as she strutted along the corridor in the amazing boots. “Grant here is giving me a tour. A private tour.” She winked and he could feel his face getting red.
“Will you sign an autograph for me?” asked the other woman.
“Of course.” Karissa pulled an autograph chit from her pocket and scrawled her name with one elegant fingertip. The chip beeped and emitted the first few notes of her signature song, as a tiny holo of the singer floated above the surface. “Special for you.”
The crew member hugged it to her chest, eyes wide.
“We should be going.” Grant touched Karissa’s elbow. He gave the staffer a stern look. “Don’t broadcast our guest’s whereabouts.”
“No, sir. Of course not.”
He breathed a sigh of relief once he’d gotten Karissa into the Security Office. Hastily he cleared some equipment off a chair and she sat.
“Nice place you got here.”
Was she being sarcastic? He racked his brain for what to say next. “Would you care for something to drink? We have real Terran coffee.”
“Fruit juice would be good, bluecranmikka if you have that.”
The AI spoke. “I’ll have a bottle delivered in two minutes, Passenger Dawnstar.”
Karissa fluffed her hair and settled into the chair. “Thanks.”
Grant felt awkward. Sitting behind the boss’s desk didn’t strike him as appropriate; neither did leaning on the wall as if he was guarding the singer. He glanced at the shiptime readout on the wall. He was going to be late. He keyed the staff only com. “How’s it going up there, boss?”
“A few hundred passengers where they shouldn’t be. Unhappy at missing their chance to see the singer. Going to take us a while to sort it all out. I’ve got the cruise director up here too, since I’m sure the CLC Line expects us to be tactful and she’s better at it than I am.” Jake Dilon was as unflappable as ever but Grant could read between the lines. The impromptu, unauthorized autograph session had really messed up the traffic flow in the casino and the gambling revenue was a priority to their employer. “Can you keep our passenger on ice a while longer? I know you were off duty— “
“No problem, sir. I’m on it.” He closed the com loop. “I bet the casino manager is going to go supernova.”
One of the AI’s robos glided into the room and presented Karissa with a chilled bottle of her requested fruit drink and left just as smoothly.
“Problem?” Karissa opened the container and took a healthy swallow.
He realized he’d spoken out loud. “Your manager’s stunt is taking more time to undo than we’d expected. I’m sorry but you and I’ll have to stay here out of the way a bit longer.”
Still holding her drink, she rose and made a slow tour of the office, examining the few knickknacks and holos Jake had on display. Over her shoulder, she said, “You’re not a fan, I gather?”
“Fan?”
“Of my music.” She laughed. “I must sound conceited but most people would be thrilled to have a one on one session with me. You haven’t even asked for an autograph.”
“I’m sure your music is wonderful. I’ve been downrange for the last few years so I’m not up on popular culture.” He checked the time again and looked up to see her frowning at him.
“Downrange? More military slang?”
“Means I’ve been outside the Sectors, in places I can’t talk about.”
She nodded. “Am I making you nervous? Or am I keeping you from something, a date maybe?” Karissa pointed at the shiptime indicator on the wall. “You keep checking.”
Reluctantly he said, “Not a date. I have a—a pet, who requires exercise.”
“A pet on board the ship? What an unexpected answer! So Fido needs a walk, does he? Let’s go—I could use some exercise.”
“It’s not that simple,” he said.
“Is the pet exercising area open to passengers?”
“Not the one I use.” He admitted. “But—”
“This office is boring,” she said. “Now I’m not a Socialite who’d probably die of boredom if you kept me here, but you can’t dangle a chance to take a pet for its walk in front of me and then yank it away. Too cruel, Officer Barton. Be mean to me and I might have to write you into a song.”
Before he could decide if she was kidding, Karissa laughed and went to toss her now empty drink container into the refuse reclaimer. “I insist and I am the headliner on this tour your cruise line is running. I could pull rank.” Hands on her hips, head tilted she stared at him. “Hey, I’m kidding. Lighten up, Officer. Now, where do we go to collect the pet?”
With the uneasy feeling he‘d been overtaken by a whirlwind, he escorted Karissa from the office and down the gravlift to the crew quarters decks. “We’re uh on the move, Jake, but still in non- passenger country.”
“Why? What happened?”
“Our passenger was bored. It’s my time slot to give Valkyr his exercise and she wants to tag along.” Grant felt uncomfortable with the nature of the entire situation.
“All right, I can’t say I’m excited about the idea but it’ll keep her out of my hair and out of view. We should be clear to get her back to her own cabin by the time you’re done.” Jake hesitated
. “Keep it professional.”
“Of course, sir.” He shot the singer a sidewise glance. “I never heard of her before this cruise.”
“You’ve heard of her now.” Jake signed off.
“We have to pick up Valkyr in my quarters,” he said to his companion. “It’ll only be a moment.”
“I’m sure the crew quarters are quite memorable.” She laughed and followed him. “I’m getting the fifty credit tour today.”
The corridor to his cabin was empty, much to Grant’s relief. He felt there was enough of a circus going on without more witnesses. The portal slid aside and he allowed her to precede him into the room.
Karissa stopped in her tracks once she was across the threshold. “You didn’t tell me you had a bird!” Before he could stop her, she went forward to where Valkyr sat on his special perch. “You’re gorgeous, big boy.” She extended her hand to stroke the glossy iridescent black wing.
Grant had no conscious memory of moving but he had her in an iron grip, with his back to the bird and her safely to the side.
“What the seven hells—” She yanked away from him.
“Valkyr is a Qaazamir hunting eagle—he could bite off one of your fingers without any problem and his talons can inflict enough damage to kill a human. Never approach a wild, feral animal as if it’s a house pet.”
She looked chastened. “He’s beautiful. And he doesn’t act upset. Or threatening.”
“You’re in his space and he’s doesn’t know you.” Grant pivoted on his heel to check the eagle’s reaction. Valkyr sat on his perch calmly, blinking at them, as if he hadn’t a care in the world. He preened, fluffing out his feathers, raising his elegant crest of white and doing a bit of grooming, then spread his wings wide for a moment in an imposing display, before settling on the perch.
“Give me a moment to get my gear and we’ll go,” Grant said. “Promise me you won’t get close to him.”
Karissa nodded but didn’t take her eyes off the bird, apparently still fascinated. Grant was uneasy as he headed toward his bedroom.
Won’t hurt the pretty one. She admires me.
Amused, Grant admitted to himself Karissa worked her celebrity magic on animals as well as most humans. He acknowledged Valkyr’s comment with a quick thought and hastened back wearing his special handler’s glove and shirt with the padded shoulder. Going to the perch, he held out his left hand and Valkyr sidled off the perch onto his fist, clutching him with the huge talons capable of causing devastating damage.
“Wow,” said Karissa, coming closer. “His claws are like knives. How can you hold him without getting hurt?”
“The glove and the shoulder of my shirt are made from woven cartefl fibers, strongest material in the Sectors,” Grant said. “In the old days, a handler had to wear bulky leather gloves and thick padding but modern tech makes things much easier. Shall we go?”
Karissa moved toward the door but gave him a dubious frown. “You just carry him through the ship? What if he gets spooked and flies away?”
“Valkyr is a highly trained military asset,” he said, entering the corridor behind her. “And a registered sentient. He knows how to behave in a noncombat situation. This way.”
“So the two of you were in the war?”
He really didn’t want to talk about his past or explain himself to this pop star. “Yes. We were in the Special Forces Z Unit until recently. Z for zoological.”
“I watched part of a documentary on them once,” Karissa said as she entered the gravlift.
Valkyr liked antigrav and flared his wings to the full 8’ span, posing dramatically as they drifted downward toward the hangar deck.
Don’t show off for her too much. Grant chuckled a bit as Karissa gasped at the display his companion was making.
“How can you keep him on a spaceship?” Karissa asked, her voice full of reproach. “How can that possibly be good for him?”
They stepped off at the hangar deck, Valkyr folding his wings obligingly so Grant could get through the portal. “This a temporary job for me. I needed a place to land after the military, while I figured out our next steps.”
The hangar deck was the single largest space on the Nebula Zephyr, as big as the two cargo decks combined, and ran the entire length and breadth of the ship. Currently the three shuttles, the captain’s flitter and two small exterior maintenance vehicles were parked neatly in their assigned spaces, with plenty of room left over for incoming shuttles when the liner was in orbit above a planet.
A crewman greeted them, staring at Karissa so hard Grant was amazed the man managed any coherent words. “Deck’s clear, as ordered. You have an hour.”
“Thanks.” Grant watched the man leave as Karissa gave him a wave and threw him a kiss. The crew member stumbled and all but fell into the gravlift.
“What now?” she asked.
“Now he flies.” Grant lifted his arm in a rapid motion and Valkyr launched himself into the air, flying low across the deck at first and then beating his wings to gain height. He was soon lost to view in the far end of the deck. “Ready when you are, Maeve.”
“Who’s Maeve?”
“The ship’s controlling AI. She helps me with these sessions.”
Two small drones flew from somewhere in the vast recesses of the deck, circling Grant and Karissa. “Chef Stephanie provided the usual select morsels,” Maeve said, her voice echoing a bit in the space.
“Good, Valkyr’s definitely hungry. Let’s get him hunting.” He turned to Karissa. “The eagle prefers live prey but we simulate the experience as best we can. Maeve’s gotten adroit at dueling with him in the air, gives him a good workout.”
For the next few minutes, the ship’s AI flew her drones across the deck, high above their heads, and then abruptly the two separated like startled birds, going in opposite directions. Valkyr pursued one, zigging and zagging on its tail, before he flew above it and pounced, catching the drone in his claws. With a triumphant shriek, the eagle took the drone high into the superstructure, landing on a convenient strut. Grant could hear the crunch from where he stood, as Valkyr compressed the soft metal to get at the raw meat inside. The broken drone fell to the deck. The bird took off after the other drone and an elegant aerial combat ensued, with Maeve unexpectedly adding a third drone to the chase.
Grant was frustrated he couldn’t link with Valkyr as he usually did when the eagle flew, but he felt he had to maintain situational awareness since he was responsible for Karissa’s safety.
“Your bird’s amazing in the air,” she said as Valkyr ‘killed’ the second drone and soared above them. “But surely even this exercise can’t be enough for him?”
Surprised at her insight, Grant shook his head. “No, but better than nothing. This is how we did training while we were on board military vessels, going to or from a mission. But Valkyr prefers to fly on a real world, using the thermals.”
“Why don’t you two just go home then?” She gestured at the ship around them. “Why live on a ship?”
“There’s nothing for us on Qaazamir.” Grant was blunt. “His species has gone extinct, due to chemicals the colonists put into the environment.”
“How sad.” Karissa turned her gaze to him. “And you? No family?”
Grant was silent. He did not have to explain himself to amuse this woman. Baring his deepest sorrows to her wasn’t part of his job. The sour bitterness of his past welled up and he swallowed hard. Just a few minutes left, he warned Valkyr on their private mental channel.
“You can escort Miss Dawnstar to her cabin now,” Jake said in his ear. “We’ve cleared the crowd.”
“With pleasure.” He turned to her. “My boss says we can get you to your cabin. Let me land Valkyr and we’ll drop him off in my quarters on the way to yours.”
“Don’t cut him short on his treat for me. I can wait.” She strolled away to sit on a convenient pile of tech crates. “Got nothing important to do.”
Her dismissive attitude intrigued him. “Don
’t you have to get ready for the performance tomorrow?”
“I’ve sung all those songs so many times, I can do it in my sleep. And my dancers and I aren’t doing any new routines on the ship. Just the tried and true hits, the best of Karissa.” Her smile was forced and didn’t warm her eyes. “Rehearsals tomorrow, for your information.”
Valkyr swooped in, landing on his shoulder and drawing his beak across Grant’s cheek in a careful caress. The hunting was good today, did you see?
You’ve lost none of your skills. Grant indicated the gravlift portal. “I only get the hangar deck for an hour at a time, so we should be going. Passengers are definitely not allowed down here, other than for embarking or departing.”
“Well, I’m not doing either one today.” She laughed and joined him on the step into the gravlift. “I enjoyed watching the session, thank you, both of you.”
Valkyr preened again and dropped one glossy black feather. Grant caught it and offered it to Karissa. “Valkyr must really like you—he doesn’t give his feathers to just anyone.”
She blushed a little as she accepted the gift, running the soft vanes through her fingers and admiring the play of iridescent colors—dark green and blue. “I’m honored.”
Two
Grant figured his brush with celebrity was now ended and he was relieved. Getting Karissa back to her cabin had been fairly easy, encountering only a few passengers along the way, who were too surprised by the chance encounter to ask for autographs or personal trideos with the star, especially as Grant kept her moving with a firm hand on her elbow. He ushered her into her suite, where the stocky manager and his own boss waited, along with the cruise director. Grant saluted and was dismissed.
Therefore he was surprised at the morning security staff briefing next day when Jake said, “You’re off your normal assignments for then next week or so.”
“What am I going to be doing? Am I in violation of some rule or code?”
“Quite the contrary. Seems you were a hit with Karissa yesterday. She’s requested you as her security liaison for the rest of the trip.” Jake grinned. “Soft duty.”