Cutie Pi (Holidays of Love Book 3)

by Ellen Mint

Nolan picked a long halter top with an asymmetrical skirt. The fabric was so sheer, I added yellow silk atop the soft green satin under layer. To my shock, it was as comfortable as wearing a laundry day baggy t-shirt. No tight bits, no uncomfortable digging, and no unflattering bulges. I wish I had his magical clothing box on Earth.

  The woman’s dewy face contorted only a moment before snapping back into a pleasing smile. “Nothing at all. Would you care for a refreshment?” She stretched her hand wide to reveal a table laden in dishes and platters of food I could barely wrap my mind around. Sauces glowed radioactive green. Fruits shaped like throwing stars hung off of bright blue stalks. What smelled like meat, but was sliced as thin as onion layers, drew Emilia’s attention.

  She rolled three of them together, then dipped the ends in a reddish-orange sauce with chunks in it. My earlier disappointment at only finding human food on Nolan’s ship laughed at me. I had no damn idea where to start, or if I could eat any of that without dissolving my tongue.

  “Being on this Think Tank must be...” I swiveled my head around, properly taking in the size of a room ten times bigger than I’d first assumed. Three visible archways led into even more rooms, one of which looked like it had steam hovering above the floor.

  Emilia paused in licking off her finger, her black-lined eyes watching intently as if I intended to nick her stuff and run. I bundled my hands behind my back and said, “How did you end up here? I thought humans aren’t allowed to be…”

  ‘Poached’ died on my tongue. Joking about being a chipmunk was one thing, but my soul prickled at anyone comparing me to an animal.

  “Do you not know?” she asked, the head tilt causing her gold and ruby earrings to shimmer and cast beams of light around the room. “The Tank combs the whole of the galaxy to find those with the sharpest minds to serve upon it. We solve the philosophical, the mechanical, even the agricultural problems that plague entire societies.”

  “For a price,” I said, revealing I wasn’t without wiles. Before I was drugged, Nolan ran off to try and outbid the Kirkan for my damn research. Did he manage to?

  Emilia smiled with her teeth. “Knowledge in the wrong hands is more dangerous than a nuclear warhead in a kindergartner’s sticky fingers.”

  I snorted at the thought and shook my head. “That’s specious reasoning, at best. If knowledge is obtained and maintained only for the powerful and wealthy, then it is bottlenecked to a singular mindset. And consider how much is lost to the ether in that universe. How many breakthroughs can never happen because a person wasn’t deemed ‘appropriate’ enough to sit at the table?”

  What are you doing? You’re arguing with the alien Oracle at Delphi in her room, and no one knows where you are! She could stab you with that cheese knife and the authority's only concern would be your blood staining her robes.

  I gritted my teeth, fearful of a vengeful wrath liable to snap from a woman who kidnapped as a lark when Emilia tipped her head back and laughed. “Are you certain you didn’t receive an invitation from a small man with a raisin for a head? Oh, dear.” She wiped at her eye as if my thoughts were so outlandish they brought her to tears of laughter. “I was so much like you before, on Earth. Do you know what I did before the tank found me?”

  To have been chosen from the entire seven billion people for this galactic brain trust, she must be a triple doctorate. A herald in her chosen field. No doubt she had so many awards her shelves buckled from the weight.

  Emilia clasped a hand to mine, her gray irises sharpening to piercing ice. “I cleaned toilets. Scrubbed sinks. Collected trash. No one thought twice about my intellect, gave a moment’s pause to my thoughts, and I…I viewed it the same.”

  “You didn’t…? I mean, colleges would fall over backward to help someone like you…”

  She raised her eyebrow and glared. “I’d have to have finished high school before college would’ve ever been an option. My family did not think it worth a waste of resources educating anyone destined to pop out babies. We needed money, we always needed money. It was an eternal race to nowhere stripping my flesh in caustic chemicals and straining my back to earn just enough to keep existing and repeat it all the next day. My mind slowed to a crawl trapped in that endless quagmire no one could win. It wasn’t even five years in before I gave up the delusion I could ever be more than what I was born to be.”

  Emilia shivered with a glare, as if she was surprised to find me in the same room. Wrapping her arms around herself, she walked to the ceiling tall windows overlooking a beautiful purple planet.

  All my life, my parents and my siblings laughed at the black sheep in the family. The awkward, quiet one who abandoned the raucous networking parties to be left alone with her books. But they never actively stopped me from studying math.

  There were enough people in my undergraduate and graduate programs who tried. I couldn’t say if it was stubbornness that shored my nerves against the harassment and the people who formed groups just to leave me out, or if I was too ashamed to quit. The fear of failing somehow beat out the unending punch from society that girls didn’t belong in the gentleman’s math club.

  “When the ship arrived and a herald descended from it to tell me I was chosen to live a life amongst the stars, I thought it a gift from God,” Emilia said with a chuckle. “Then I met a man with three heads who, over breakfast, proved God cannot exist.”

  So, much like Nolan’s Oracle, the Tank had the ability to recognize ignored potential. That didn’t mean there weren’t others out there in the universe in the same predicament who weren’t chosen. Earth couldn’t be that special. “Why a human?” I couldn’t wrap my mind around that last aspect of her tale. It seemed like more work to choose an unknown species. Having to figure out edible food, sleeping arrangements, adjusting to major planetary cultural differences on top of the abducting part.

  “Because the Tank must always remain impartial.”

  “And if any of the species asking for answers had one of their own on the council…” I continued. A simple fear of bribery, of showing favor. But that wouldn’t stop those who’d do anything to win. There was always someone who’d sell out their own mother, regardless of how many arms they had.

  Emilia seemed to read my mind as she said, “It is also why we wear the masks and give no one our names. We are to forever remain anonymous.”

  Whisked into the stars, pampered with enough luxuries they couldn’t all be enjoyed in a lifetime, entire days lost in intellectual pursuits for the sake of knowledge. Nameless and faceless, no friends to share in, no family to fall back on, no loves to grow and nurture.

  I stared harder at the elaborate room, noticing the signs not of a hermit secluded in her opulence but a prisoner in a gilded cage. “Sounds like a lonely life,” I said.

  “As if what I left behind on Earth would be any better. Both of my aunts died before they were fifty-five, and I’ve already surpassed them.”

  “You’re…” I spun back to the woman I swore was in her thirties.

  “Seventy-three in earth years,” Emilia said, proudly showing off the incredible lack of sag or wrinkles. “It’s easy to stay young when all of life’s worries are handled by someone else. You still appear perturbed.”

  “I…” Even with all her cares gone, a lack of stress couldn’t keep someone that well preserved. Was it more? Did something in this space travel keep people from aging? Emilia glared at me and I blushed as I realized I’d been staring intently at her face. “I cannot imagine giving up my family, my world, my name…even for all of this.”

  “You would turn the offer down if it was ever extended to you? You would continue to toil at your waitress job, or your twelve-hour days chained to a sewing machine to what? Keep your precious independence? How truly free are you when someone else owns you forty, fifty, or even eighty hours a week?”

  “I’m more than that!” I huffed, my skin boiling at how deep she cut. “I have a doctorate in computer science.”

  “Which gifts you equal
praise and monetary compensation on earth?” Emilia said with a forked tongue.

  “People out there, they don’t even know that it’s you making these discoveries, creating this knowledge for the universe. You don’t own it. They do!”

  “Do you own your research, Doctor? Or does your professor? Your university? Your company? Do any of us truly own ourselves?”

  A scream built up in my throat, but rather than unleash it, I buried my face in my hands and tucked into my chest. Fingers knotting around my hair, I tried to calm down, but a fire raged inside. She wasn’t right, but she wasn’t wrong either. And now I knew aliens existed, that technology beyond anything the supposed tech geniuses on earth could create was right beyond our atmosphere. How could I go back to being what I once was?

  What happened when this wild space adventure ended, and I returned to being an average post-doc to a PI who barely wanted me there?

  “I am sorry,” Emilia said, and a hand tried to soothe along my shoulders. In my state, it felt like sandpaper roughing over my skin, but I froze in place. “When you spend all your time debating fellow geniuses, every conversation devolves one way—an endless screaming match. Could I do anything for you?”

  Anything? Was it that simple to solve this problem hanging over our heads? “Could you determine if a polynomial problem can be solved in non-polynomial time?”

  A sneer wobbled along her lips and her eyes darted to a large oil painting. It’d looked like abstract blobs to me before until I spotted that same expensive bubble dress on the hovering creatures across the pastoral landscape. “This is what you asked from the Tank?” she said while striding to the desk below it. As Emilia waved a hand over the desktop, the painting vanished to a massive computer screen.

  “Ye-yes. My friend, he went off to…arbitrate,” I said while falling in beside her. The readout on this computer made more sense than any other screen I’d encountered so far. Even though I recognized the alphabet, the words weren’t coherent.

  “Your friend? You’re certain of that?” Emilia asked with a sharp line to her brows.

  Of course he was. He’d rescued me so many times he was probably due a card as thanks. Gift basket? Nolan was probably the only person I could trust in this galaxy right now. Not that she needed to know that. “It’s not about him. It’s that this Kirkan…she stole my research, and that’s what she’s using for her request. Mine. My work and sweat.”

  “I see,” Emilia said softly. “Well, I’m sorry, but I cannot help you. The Tank has accepted the Kirkan’s bid.”

  “What? But that’s stolen data. Illegally stolen, and she tried to kill me to get it. Doesn’t anyone here care about right and wrong?” My forehead burned like fire ants crawled across it. I began to scratch along the hairline while shaking my head. Why was everyone so happy to roll over for this damn bounty hunter?

  “A handful of code from an unincorporated planet taken off of a nameless woman?” Emilia said, stopping me dead. “If you were of a higher-ranked race, you could file a complaint. But then what the Kirkan stole would be confiscated by the…space police, as it were. And you’d never get your research back. I’m sorry.”

  “This is so…unfair.” Shit. Tears wobbled in my eyes. I tried to turn away to wipe them where no one could see. My face burned at the shame of shattering so completely and the failure of not stacking up to what was expected of me. Solve the problem, save the day. It sounded so simple that anyone but this idiot could do it.

  “If it’s your research, you must have a copy?” Emilia said. I shook my head dumbfounded. Sure, there was the old hard drive at home, not that it would help now. I never thought to keep any backups on me because I never expected to be whisked off the planet. “What about in here?” she asked and tapped two fingers to my temple.

  “Well, yes. But I need it laid out in actual data form, not just a jumble of ideas and memories in my head.”

  Her lips quirked up. “Then I can help.” Emilia spun back to her console and prodded at the computer. “But please don’t tell anyone that you received such assistance from a member of the Tank. It would destroy our reputation.”

  “Because you’re showing favoritism?” I asked. Emilia uncoiled a long wire and put one end in my left hand and the other in my right.

  “Because I’m doing it without monetary compensation. Think about your research.”

  I closed my eyes and tried to ping back through the months of my prodding at the impossible. How many pizza rolls did I go through during those sessions? At least ten bags, maybe more. Some of the printouts were stained with the greasy fake-cheese and pepperoni chunks. One time, at work I scratched out some new data when Nolan walked into my office.

  I’d tried to slam the laptop shut before he caught on, but he’d laughed and slowly raised the lid. “I don’t know why I expected porn. Unless this is the mathematics version?”

  It was the first time in months I’d laughed so hard I snorted. Maybe years.

  He smelled good too. Like warm cinnamon and nutmeg from all those pies he’d make.

  “There it is,” Emilia said, waking me from my mental vacation.

  I glanced up and shouted, “No fucking way!” There it was—my data scrolling along on the alien computer screen. Mixed in was an occasional image of a pizza roll, a pepperoni and… Oh, God. At the end was Nolan in his full glory when I helped him into his bathroom shower.

  Mathematician Porn. Shit.

  Emilia pinched her lips together, but only said, “Here, all downloaded onto this disc. Any computer will read it.”

  I stared down at the flattened marble shifting in color from blue to purple in awe. Everything stolen from me was back in my hands, along with an image I’d have to delete. Maybe copy to a hidden file, then delete off the main.

  “Thank you. This…damn it, I’m crying again.”

  “I understand. In this world, this galaxy, sometimes all we have left to us is our work and our name,” Emilia said as she wrapped her arms around me for a hug.

  I awkwardly tried to return it, patting at her shoulders, when a thought occurred to me. “Why didn’t you take my companion when you abducted me?”

  “Hm?”

  “Well, not one but two strange humans wandering around on the space station. That had to…” My tongue looped at the growing concern rising in Emilia’s face.

  “You don’t know? Of course, you don’t. Earthlings wouldn’t be aware, and he sure as sin wouldn’t tell you,” Emilia clucked while skipping through menus on her computer. What looked like CCTV feed rose, though in high definition. Contained in the grid was a video feed of the gathered masses wandering out of the forum, what looked like a kitchen, and finally, Nolan arguing with someone in the Think Tank unitard.

  In a second, the screen flashed, and where once a six-foot, physically fit human stood was a creature I’d never seen before. It gained two or three feet, the head’s width elongated, the hair vanished, the arms dangled past the hips, and the fingers grew pads on the tips.

  As soon as it happened, the creature vanished back to Nolan still pleading his case. What the hell was that?

  “Word of advice for a space virgin,” Emilia whispered in my ear, “never trust a Yaxha.”

  I cinched my hand tight to my research watching the tall creature zap in and out where I thought the only man I could trust stood.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  THE SILENT ASSISTANT led me from Emilia’s quarters through the maintenance decks coated in grime and out into a cluster of small waiting rooms. She was about to open the door to one when her hand shot out in front of me. “You are not to speak of or reveal what was said in the Think Tank’s private chambers.”

  “You can talk?” I shouted, my internal turmoil momentarily shattered in surprise.

  “I will take that as agreement,” was her response as she pressed her badge on the door and shoved me inside.

  My sandals snagged on the grated floor sending me stumbling. I flailed out my arms to take the brunt of
the fall when a hand wrapped around mine. I whipped my head up and concerned eyes stared at me.

  Nolan, or whatever his real name was, reached his free hand around the small of my back. “What happened to you? I returned from arbitration and you were gone without warning. They wouldn’t tell me…”

  I shot up to my feet and flung his hands away. Both confoundedly human palms lingered in the air as if I should be resting between them. As if he wasn’t…

  “What are you?” I shouted the question that wouldn’t stop piercing into my brain the moment Emilia revealed the truth to me. A truth he refused to share.

  Nolan glanced to the door, then back at me. “A bounty hunter?”

  “No, not that. I want to know, deserve to know what you are, because I expected to walk into this room and find a seven-foot-tall gecko man instead!” I shrieked. Voice scratching, panic-induced tears shrieked.

  Nolan’s once easy smile flatlined, his nostrils flaring as if he prepared for another lie. Another distraction. Another way to keep me from noticing how the man I’d been traveling with, God damn sleeping with, wasn’t a human at all.

  “What. Are. You?” I said, needing to hear it from him. Maybe it was all a misunderstanding, or Emilia attempting to mess with me one last time so she could keep her position. As if I wanted to be trapped in a fancy room wearing stupid robes and solving equations for the ultra-elite. Which does not sound like academia in a way I’ll figure out later.

  Nolan glanced at the door again as if he expected someone to run in and save him. But it was just me, the stupid human pulled along for the ride. “How do you…? Why do you think that I’m something else?”

  For fuck’s sake, would it kill him to give a straight answer? I glared my answer, my arms crossed over my chest to shield my heart. He began to bob and weave without his feet leaving the ground.

  “Yaxha,” I said, the word bouncing to my tongue. At that, Nolan snapped his attention right to me. “I thought it was a slang term for humans, but no. That’s it, isn’t it? You’re a Yaxha.”