Flare

by JC Hay

  “Fine. I was thinking, who do I have to skin for destroying my ship? It didn’t matter that they were a means to an end. There were my means to that end.”

  “And now the race has replaced that?”

  Zoom in tight to her face, while leaving the panel behind her in soft focus. “You can’t eat revenge. And the loss of the ship doesn’t impugn the honor of my House. While I find the idea of this competition to be ridiculous in the extreme, the prize offered is significant enough to replace the opportunity lost.”

  “Fascinating. If you don’t mind my saying so, that seems like an awfully callous disregard for your former allies.”

  She growls and turns thirty degrees right. “Technically, they had severed our relationship before the ship was destroyed. All Ax did was rob me of the pleasure of killing them myself.”

  The camera pulls out slowly, letting us focus on the overall look of her. “The Malebranki are notoriously standoffish for a member of the fringe alliances. How does it feel to represent your people for one of the first times outside of a holonovella.”

  (Note: process the footage with a blue filter in postproduction to emphasize the scarlet tones of her skin.)

  She growls. “Those are not an accurate depiction of Malebranki politics. And to answer your question, I’m an individual. What I do reflects me, not the entirety of Malebranki Space. Just as Ax is not representative of all humanity when this airs on the Fringe.” After a pause, she adds, “Fortunately for you.”

  “Speaking of Ax, what do you think of your new teammate?”

  She looks thoughtful for a moment, as though considering the best thing to say. “Innovative, for a coward. Thinks quickly enough.”

  “That’s damning with faint praise. I meant in terms of attractiveness.”

  The shot shifts to one in soft focus, highlighting the attractive structure of her face. “He’s my partner. It shouldn’t matter if I find him attractive or not. We’re here to do a job. Anything else that happens is in addition to that, but we need to focus on winning the race.”

  “So you admit that you’re open to something more.”

  She looks panicked, then enraged. “That’s not what I said at all!”

  “You needn’t worry. We keep these interviews protected until the end of the race. The company takes them very seriously as an important part of team marketing. The camera crews are bonded, so long as their data and they are returned unharmed. It serves to deter kidnapping, such as what you’re contemplating now.”

  “You don’t know what I’m thinking,” She growls. The feed splits again to show her dragging Ax back up the stairs from belowdecks.

  “Extensive training has allowed me to make inferences.” I pull the shot back for the last time. “Anything else about Ax that you’d like to say?”

  Her growl is more dangerous sounding this time. “The interview is over.”

  Four

  Kayana didn’t understand humans. That had to be it. One moment, Ax had been grieving and burying his dead friend. The next, the man had been checking out her ass as she walked off to the bridge. She hadn’t been offended by the attention—he was hardly the first human to do so, and she’d have spaced half of the crew if she’d murdered every man who’d given her the eye. It was the incongruity of the timing that threw her off. None of which stopped her from taking up position in her cabin’s doorway when she heard the shower cut out. Sauce for the Ct’hau was, after all, sauce for Ct’hara.

  It was a grotesque luxury to have an actual, water-based shower on a ship of this size. Then again, “grotesque luxury” seemed to be the singular design ethic. At least they kept themselves in check by limiting themselves to one shared facility for the two crew members. No telling if the holocam crew had their own. Berniss had been so perfectly composed every time they’d met that Kayana half-expected the woman was secretly a robot.

  A few minutes after the shower shut off, Ax padded down the hall toward his cabin, which was conveniently across the narrow hall from her own. Kayana leaned against the wall next to his door and watched him approach. He had a fluffy white towel wrapped around his waist and artfully knotted, and he left wet footprints on the expensive hardwood.

  Kayana made a show of giving him a slow once-over. As humans went, she supposed he wasn’t altogether hideous—he didn’t show signs of the near-psychotic body worship that plagued most Malebranki men. It made him look less sculpted and more naturally fit. Instead of a chiseled six-pack, the soft shadow of abs showed across his stomach. His shoulders were nice and broad, though, and the way his torso narrowed at the waist drew her eye naturally down.

  The same brown stubble that seemed to permanently grace his cheeks formed a dusting of hair on his belly and ducked below the towel in a teasing suggestion that made her imagination flare for a moment.

  Only a moment though. He was a necessary trouble she had to put up with to reach her goal of getting back into her family’s good graces. An easy route to enough money to prove she could contribute and belonged as a part of the House. He wasn’t the worst eyesore she’d endured as means to that end, but he was temporary nonetheless.

  He narrowed his eyes as he noticed her and stopped in the middle of the hall, just before his door. She held back her smirk as he tensed his abs to improve their definition—as though she wouldn’t notice. “Find what you were looking for?”

  Kayana rolled her eyes. “Hard to tell with the towel in the way, but I suspect not.” She smiled, showing off the points of her teeth. It should terrify him—among her people, smiling was more of a challenge than a gesture of reassurance. She prided herself on her smile.

  He deflated slightly at the dismissal, but she watched him pick his ego back up before he walked into his cabin. He didn’t close the door, so she followed him and leaned against the jamb. Inside, he tossed clothing from the small dresser onto the bed. She glanced at the narrow mattress, comparing it to the enormous bed which filled half her cabin. “You only have a single bed?”

  “You got the big bed when you got Darryn’s room.” He looked at the clothes and then back at her. “Are you just planning to stand there while I change?”

  She hadn’t planned on it originally, but the way he said it felt like a dare, and it tweaked her sense of pride. The twenty-first maxim said to let no challenge go unanswered after all. “Am I the first Malebranki you’ve met?”

  “More or less. I don’t spend a lot of time running in those circles.”

  “Which circles are those?” She heard the tint of anger in her voice and dialed it back. “Crime?”

  Ax took a step toward the bed. “Hardly. I didn’t know you lot went in for that. Mostly I’ve seen Malebranki in security. Though I avoid the fringes in general. I’d rather stay where the people are. Easier to blend in.”

  “So, you know nothing about our actual culture. Just what gets displayed in those stupid holonovellas.” Malebranki villains were all the rage, typically in the femme fatale role. It didn’t improve their reputation with the rest of the galaxy, and the programs were widely reviled in Malebranki space.

  “Not a note of it, and no offense, Kay. I’m fine with that.” He put a hand on the towel’s knot and glared at her. “You can stay if you want, but...”

  She resisted the urge to correct her name. "If you think what you've got will embarrass me, I'm more interested than I was a moment ago. Somehow I doubt you'll compare much to a Malebranki." It was mostly a lie – Malebranki men might all look sculpted from stone, but in her experience they were thoroughly average otherwise. Still, tweaking Ax's ego amused her more than it should.

  He stared her down, and she could see the moment his nervousness coalesced into a sense of challenge. Fascinating to see some sense of backbone hidden in his depths.

  “So it’s nothing you haven’t seen before, then.” With a flick of his hand, the towel dropped to the floor.

  If he intended to shock her, he was sorely mistaken. Her people didn’t typically have the same hang-ups ab
out their bodies that many human cultures did. G’henna was a volcanic world; even in the coldest months the heat was unbearable to many cultures. While armor might be how they judged each other, the Malebranki were casual about their nudity regardless of gender. She dipped her eyes to the red-brown curls and the length of his cock. Even semi-flaccid it wasn’t disappointing. For a human, she reminded herself. Not that she’d let him know that. His ego was bad enough as it was. Kayana smirked. “I hope you’re more of a grower than a shower.”

  His chest deflated, and he quickly grabbed a pair of boxers and started to dress. She felt a twinge of guilt for having needled him, but frankly, he’d asked for it. Challenging her and strutting about like he was the Nine’s gift to females. He certainly could afford to be taken down a peg or two. After he’d donned a pair of trousers, he folded his arms over his chest. “So did you want something in particular, or are you just here to ogle?”

  “A little of both,” she admitted. “We’ll be at Caldera soon. You should probably get ready to go planetside.”

  He indicated the clothes that remained on the unmade bed. “I’m working on it.”

  “So I see.”

  Ax watched her a moment, then pulled his shirt on. She tried not to notice the way the fabric stretched over his shoulders, and failed. When she turned to leave, he called after her. “Next time we’ll switch. You get naked and I’ll watch.”

  The tiny flutter of lust in her belly wasn’t worth paying attention to, and she crushed it without mercy. There was no future there, despite her mild interest. While humans weren’t capable of bringing any power or prestige to a relationship, they could be entertaining. For the short term, only. She smiled as she called back over her shoulder, “Your weak human heart couldn’t handle the sight.”

  She crossed the hall and had almost closed the door to her cabin when she heard him mutter, “I’m willing to risk it.”

  Five

  Kayana checked the seals on her exo-suit, wishing again that she could take her armor with her instead. The contract had been specific, though. No technology outside what was provided by the race coordinators. She was only allowed to carry her family dagger because of an obscure “cultural display” loophole. She looked up as Ax came into the room, and Algol materialized.

  “Welcome to Caldera.” The AI buzzed its wings and raised two of its complex mouthparts in what Kayana assumed was excitement. Or possibly hunger. The display screen behind the holographic avatar was filled with the image of a darkened planet orbiting a cool, red star. “Because the wildlife of Caldera is considered beautiful and unique, blasters are not allowed for this challenge. It is recommended that contestants take fire protection gear and respirators.”

  “Wait, what?” Ax's voice cracked as his head snapped up to look at the AI, eyes wide. “I thought this was supposed to be a safe challenge!”

  Kayana chuckled. “I don’t think any of them are safe. All we agreed on was low-scoring.”

  “I’m pretty sure we agreed on team building too.”

  “Perhaps.” She smirked. “Was that right after you said I was the boss?”

  His jaw twitched, and she had to resist the urge to laugh. Provoking a response in him was too easy.

  “You’re just lucky I like bossy women.”

  “Actually, you’re the lucky one. It means we get along and I don’t shove you out an airlock. Everyone wins!” She gave him a toothy smile.

  He chuckled and checked his exo-suit. “Do you need me to check your seals?”

  “By the Nine, Ax Turner, that almost sounded like concern. Are you worried about me?” The warmth that flared in her blood at the idea didn't matter. She shoved it away as she turned and lifted her hair out of the way. This wasn’t flirting, just banter.

  He grinned and double-checked her suit’s closures, fingers following the seal and leaving a trail of heat in their wake. “Let’s say I'm more interested in protecting the ‘beautiful and unique’ fauna of this place from you, rather than the other way around.”

  They swapped positions, and he leaned his head forward as she pressed down on the closure where it followed behind his neck. The muscles beneath the suit were solid, and it drew her attention again to the appealing width of his shoulders. Her mind drifted back to the dropped towel in his cabin, and she blinked the image away.

  “I do hope I’m interrupting something.” Berniss entered the room with a pair of holovid drones. “You know what they say - sex sells.”

  Kayana stopped herself from growling, but it was difficult. “I hadn’t realized you were coming with us.”

  Algol thrummed its annoyance. “The holovid crew is too valuable to be risked on this challenge. Caldera is still classified as uninhabited, feral, and lethal. They will however be sending a holovid drone. As stipulated in the contract, you are required to bring the drone with you and not interfere in its function.” The AI fixed its multifaceted eyes on Ax.

  If the accusation bothered Ax, he didn’t give much sign. Instead, he huffed and rolled his eyes. The exaggerated gesture was almost endearing, but she refused to give him any credit for bucking against the ship’s authority. Solidarity wasn’t the same thing as alliance. She focused. “So. We are transmitted to the surface, and then what happens? How do we know what we’re looking for?”

  The translucent blue avatar shuffled about, clattering its mouthparts together in an expression that could be frustration. Or, again, hunger. Actually, given how many different pedipalps, plates, and feeder antenna were around its mouth, Kayana wasn’t sure which displays from the AI weren’t about being hungry. For all she knew, whatever species it was supposed to be responded to all of life’s little challenges by consuming them. It didn’t make her feel reassured.

  “The completion of each challenge is indicated by a gemstone,” the AI buzzed, finding a sense of composure. “For the challenge on Caldera, this stone is an uncut red diamond colloquially known as the Queen’s Eye. Once you have secured it, you will return to the ship and place it in the scoring matrix for evaluation.”

  “So, we’re going down there to steal a royal-slash-religious artifact.” The disdain in Ax’s voice surprised her. He didn’t seem like the sort of person who would be offended by thieving.

  “There is no civilization on Caldera,” the AI repeated. “Though the Octiron Corporation’s Great Space Race may require you to deal with other cultures as part of the competition, these cultures are all starflight capable and have been prepped for your possible arrival. Any attempts to damage, interact with, or undermine pre-contact cultures will lead to your expulsion from the competition.”

  He scoffed. “That clears it up, thanks.”

  Kayana had to agree with Ax’s sentiment. The Council of Great Houses was quick to condemn attempts to interfere with the development of pre-stellar civilizations. She pushed off the wall and stalked toward the display of the planet. “New topic. What are we allowed to know going in?”

  The AI turned to face her, its projected avatar tilting its head to watch her with one multifaceted eye. “Ambient temperature is eighteen degrees Celsius. There is no expected sunrise or sunset as the planet is tidally locked.”

  “If it’s tide-locked, why is the dark side so warm?” she asked.

  “Gravitational forces acting on the planet have created geothermal instability, leading to a high incidence of volcanoes. Hence Octiron’s recommendations for fire protective gear. Respirators are also suggested, as the planet regularly emits pockets of sulfur dioxide gas.”

  Kayana elbowed Ax in the ribs. He made a delightfully annoyed sound. “See? That’s a valuable question to have answered. You should grab some gear.”

  “What about you?” He opened the supply locker and pulled out a pair of respirators.

  “Fire doesn’t bother me.” She took one and clipped it to her belt. “I’m Malebranki. v’tana—fireshaping—is our birthright.” When he continued to look confused, she sighed. “We can manipulate fire with our minds.” Some better t
han others—most better than her, if she was being at all honest with herself. She wasn’t even able to generate her own flames, and had to grab existing ones to manipulate. Still, it wasn’t like he knew that or understood what it meant in her society. Or to her family.

  He blinked, looking her over as though seeing her with new eyes. “Your hand, when you boarded. I assumed it was a hologram, just like the wings.” He sounded genuinely impressed.

  “No tricks. I’ll show you while we’re planetside, if you like.” She felt her cheeks darken with a combination of pride and embarrassment. “Anyway, I doubt I’m good enough to protect us both if we end up taking a lava bath, so make sure you take your gear.” With that in mind, she grabbed one of the lightweight fire suits for herself as well.

  The AI vibrated its wings. “You will also need the tracking device in the box on the floor. This will direct you to where the Queen’s Eye is, but not what you need to do to achieve it. As the tracker is recalibrated for each challenge, it will need to be returned to the box after this one has ended.”

  “That’s it? That’s all the clues we get?” Ax didn’t sound especially hopeful about their chances. He hooked a survival pouch onto his belt opposite the respirator and pressed his thumb to a plate on the box the avatar had indicated. When nothing happened, he looked over his shoulder at her. “Apparently it requires both of us.”

  Of course it did. She moved to place her thumb on the pad beside his. There was no way to do it comfortably, at least without being close to him, and the fact that their hands were almost touching made her frustratingly aware of his presence. She could feel the cool surface of his skin, too close to ignore the way he leached her heat. She swallowed, and the lock on the box whirred.

  She stepped back immediately, glad to be away from him even a few feet.

  Ax removed the tracker from the box. A flat white device, a touch screen covered one side, presumably where it would also display the location of the gem once they were planetside. He poked at the screen with a stern expression, but it didn’t respond.