Page 6

Chapter six

Progress is Progress

R owen stared at the shimmering simulation chamber Casti had just manifested in what had previously been an empty storage bay. The space appeared to be half a scree square, currently filled with a blank gray mist.

"The simulation environment will allow you to test various layouts," Casti explained. "You may interact with the projections as if they are physical objects."

“We have design simulators,” she replied cautiously. “I don’t mean to be rude, of course it’s helpful, but can't we already create simulation models? I’m not sure this will make things much faster.”

“I am aware of your existing simulations, your holographic technology,” Casti replied. “This technology is markedly more advanced, and I believe it will accelerate the project. Perhaps you could undertake a test?”

Curiosity piqued, Rowen couldn't resist. She stepped into the simulation space. “What kinds of things can you create?”

“While I do have my limitations, I am confident that I can simulate anything you may need for this project.”

“Alright. Let’s do a test.” She looked at Petre. “What should we make?”

He looked around the space. “Are there any parameters? Restrictions on size or composition”

“If the object is too large for the room, I can reduce it proportionately to fit.”

Rowen watched Petre absorb this for a moment, then grinned. “Casti, do you have access to the fauna database for Verit?

“I do.”

“Please create species Dathalka Predis Gargantan, full size.”

There was a heartbeat of silence, and then suddenly, towering over them, was a massive white beast. It was double the size of Petre, with long, white, shaggy fur and fangs the size of his forearm. It was frozen mid snarl, standing on its rear legs, its forelegs clawing at an imagined opponent.

Rowen was speechless, as Petre circled the creature. “This is incredible! Look, you can see each individual strand of fur.” He reached out and brushed his hand along the beast’s flank.

“What is it?” Rowen asked in a hushed voice.

“It is the symbol of my clan, an ancient Dathalka.”

Rowen looked at him, eyes widening in shock. “This is what lives on your homeworld?”

Petre laughed. “Not any more. Their descendants are smaller now, a little under my height, but still fearsome. They were hunted almost to extinction. There’s actually a preservation society for them now; my father is very active with them.” His lips thinned with disapproval. “Some of the Maman still have them hunted. Their white furs are highly prized.”

Rowen reached out and touched the creature in awe, feeling the oiliness of its fur against her fingertips. “It’s magnificent. I imagine lesser creatures must have been terrified.” She looked at Petre, at his glacial gaze and regal manner. “I think it’s an appropriate representation of your clan.”

Petre huffed. “You know, it sounds like a compliment, but coming from you…”

She chuckled. “Make of it what you will.” She raised her voice. “Casti, can you animate the creature?”

“If required. What would you like it to do?”

“Nothing aggressive, perhaps just have it walk around a bit.”

The creature took a breath, and dropped down onto all fours, causing Rowen to stumble back into Petre, who reached out to steady her. It moved quietly, for such a large creature, its massive claws retracted like a cat’s.

In fact, on all fours it was at Rowen’s head height, and she got a proper look at its face. It was somewhere between a bear and a cat, she decided. All the strength in the shoulders of a bear, but something of a feline’s elegance in its jaw structure.

It stood and slowly walked in a circle around them, and they stood there, in silent awe, watching it.

“Can you imagine how your ancestors would have felt, coming face to face with that in the snow?”

Petre stared up at his people’s animal spirit, his expression unreadable. “I see why they chose it for their symbol.”

Unaccountably, Rowen felt a twinge of sadness from him. Grump though he might be, this was meant to be fun, not to poke at his demons. She couldn’t help trying to ease it. “Casti, create another two creatures. Offspring of the first and give them a snowy landscape.”

Casti complied, and two adorable balls of white fluff, about the height of Rowen’s knee, appeared. All around them, the environment transformed into a winter wonderland. Large evergreen trees towered over them, thick snow carpeting the landscape, and delicate snowflakes began to fall from a gray, puffy sky. Rowen held her hand out, and a faint snow-flake landed on her palm, and appeared to melt.

The little creatures chased each other through their parent’s legs until one of them pounced on the other tumbling it to the ground. Immediately, the battle was on, tiny paws tussling as they rolled around in the snow.

The parent creature huffed, and laid down on the ground, content to watch its offspring play.

It was magical, a stolen slice of time. They stood, just watching the simple happiness of the cubs as they bounded in the synthesized snow.

Eventually, Petre cleared his throat. “Alright. I think we’ve completed what tests we need. We know we can upload specifications, Casti can extrapolate our ideas from baseline designs, and we can edit and augment as required.”

“And we know the system can handle complex moving elements. The modeling of the snowfall and melting ice crystal was perfect."

He rolled his eyes. "A vital piece of information for our very serious engineering project."

They looked at each other. “One more test?” Rowen suggested.

Petre sighed. “We really should attempt something actually useful."

Rowen nodded, still warmed by the cubs. "You're right. Casti, could you show us the basic design model for the biodome Beta Three?"

The whimsical displays faded, replaced by a precise rendering of her latest design.

"If we place the pressure sub-injector here," Petre indicated a point on the design, “we can leave a space for the moisture regulator…”

They lost themselves in the work, calling out suggestions and refinements as the design evolved around them. Rowen found herself repeatedly amazed by how seamlessly they worked together, when they weren’t snipping at each other, and Petre wasn’t doing his icicle impersonation.

“Casti, I take it all back. This is incredibly helpful technology. Would it be possible for us to get access to this on the ground? I have a massive program of infrastructure projects on plan, if we could create detailed simulations like this it would speed them up immeasurably,” Petre said.

Casti didn’t respond. “Or perhaps you could share the designs for how to build this? And we’ll create it ourselves?” he pressed.

"Petre." Rowen's gentle warning made him stop. “You know that Casti won’t release additional tech to us.”

He ran a hand through his hair, frustration briefly clouding his features. "I know, I know. But doesn't it bother you? All this incredible technology, and we're not allowed to understand how it works?"

"It's not about being allowed. It's about trust. Casti's sharing what it's comfortable sharing. Pushing for more..." She shrugged. "Well, how do you react when someone demands more than you're willing to give?"

His expression shifted. "You think I'm being too aggressive?"

"I think you're being an engineer," she said with a small smile. "But sometimes we need to accept that not everything needs to be dissected to be useful." She gestured at their surroundings. "Look what Casti's already given us. Maybe if we prove ourselves worthy of its trust, it'll share more in time."

He was quiet for a long moment. "When did you get so wise?"

"Oh, I've always been wise. You're just finally noticing." She winked, then turned back to the simulation. "Now, about these water recyclers..."

As they prepared to leave, Rowen paused in the doorway. "Thank you, Casti. This was incredibly helpful."

"You are welcome, Rowen. Your creative approach to testing was...unexpected. But enlightening."

Petre's quiet laugh followed them into the corridor. "I can't believe you made ancient alien technology create cubs playing in the snow."

"Admit it." She nudged him gently. "You enjoyed it."

His smile, when it came, transformed his entire face. "Perhaps a little."

It wasn't until she was back in her quarters that Rowen realized they'd spent the entire afternoon together without a single moment of awkwardness or tension. Progress, she thought with a small smile. Small steps, but progress, nonetheless.

***

Maral’s home was not what Rowen had expected.

She and Petre had spent the last two weeks working on the specifications and completed the preliminary designs for the bio domes in record time, aided by Casti’s incredible simulation technology.

They were due to present them to the K’Dec and Frei this morning, but they’d received an early comm, requesting that she and Petre come to Maral’s personal quarters rather than the council offices for their scheduled meeting. She hadn’t thought much of it until she stepped inside and found herself struck by the happy, warm energy of the home.

She had expected elegantly formal. Reserved. A home befitting the leader of the colony. Instead, warmth enveloped her as she crossed the threshold. The quarters were spacious but intimate, a Malurien design in deep reds and burnished golds, soft floor cushions and carved stone accents adding an earthy richness to the space. The air was scented with something faintly spiced, and the remnants of breakfast were strewn on the countertop.

MakenRoy, Maral’s mate, moved effortlessly through the happy chaos. It occurred to Rowen that the male was a prince on his homeworld, yet here he was, kneeling on the floor of a colony half the galaxy away, on a planet that could only be called rustic at best, helping his youngest son, Sadu, cram emergency rations into a backpack.

They sat at the kitchen table for the meeting, while all around them the family was preparing for a hike. Hulo, MakenRoy’s eldest son, in the manner of teenagers the universe over, slouched by the door, pretending not to be excited about the trip.

It didn’t matter, Sadu’s eagerness was infectious. Even Varis, Maral's normally reserved granddaughter, was practically vibrating with anticipation at their planned hiking expedition.

“Now remember,” MakenRoy's deep voice rumbled through the room, “what's the first rule of exploring in unknown territory?”

“Stay in sight of an adult!” Sadu chirped, while simultaneously trying to stuff what looked like an entire week's worth of snacks into his already overflowing pack.

“Unless the adult is Hulo,” Varis added with sisterly smugness, “because he got himself lost when he went on his tracking training last week.”

“I was not lost,” Hulo protested, with wounded dignity. “I was conducting a survey of the local environment.”

“For three hours?”

“ Enough! ” MakenRoy’s voice cut through their bickering, and while both fell silent, Varis’s grin suggested she had no intention of letting this particular piece of ammunition go to waste.

Even Frei cracked a rare smile as she watched the young’s teasing.

Maral, watching them with fond exasperation, turned her attention back to the bio-dome schematics floating above the table. “Thank you for agreeing to meet me here. It’s so rare that my family is all here and free at once, I wanted to take advantage of the day with them.”

“We’re happy to. It can’t be easy running this place. You deserve a day off.”

Petre watched the scene with fascination. Rowen nudged him. “Aren’t we?”

He snapped back in an instant. “Of course.”

Maral studied the crystalline lattice structure floating above the table. “Casti’s specifications are remarkable,” she observed, fingers flicking across the display. “I’ve seen nothing quite like it.”

“The engineering is revolutionary,” Rowen agreed, unable to contain her enthusiasm. “The way the dome responds to environmental changes, it's almost like it's alive. It will have its own embedded AI.”

Petre pulled up the purchasing comparison. “We've identified three potential suppliers who manufacture the components we can’t produce here at the colony.” He gestured, and the display shifted to show a star chart. “Muha for the pressure systems—their underwater habitats use similar technology. The Boren Mining Association for vacuum seals and atmospheric controls. And the Nefrem to help with their final assembly.”

Maral examined the component lists some more. “A sound strategy.” Maral's quiet approval warmed Rowen.

“Though not an inexpensive one,” Frei chipped in.

Maral smiled slightly. “Fortunately, I believe we have something suitably valuable to trade.”

Rowen’s eyes widened. “You're authorizing use of the Zyilan?”

“A small amount,” Maral qualified. “Enough to secure what we need, nothing more. A microgram.”

There were planets that would kill for a microgram of Zyilan.

“Make sure you stick to it in the negotiations. We can’t afford any more right now.”

Rowen licked suddenly dry lips. “You want us to go?”

“Of course.” Maral tilted her head. “This is cutting-edge technology. You’ll need to inspect the facilities, make sure they can meet the specifications. Make sure they are the right partners.” She tapped her fingers on her chin, thinking aloud. “The Muha facilities are on their homeworld, you’ll need to go there. But I believe both the BMA and the Nefrem have facilities on IntGalOne.”

Frei’s expression darkened. “I’m not sure that Petre and Rowen are the best people for this. Petre has duties here—”

“Nonsense.” Replied Maral airily. “They’re the experts. Who else would we send?”

Frei glared daggers at Maral. “They aren’t trained negotiators,” Frei argued, her voice clipped. “I don’t think—”

“No, you’re right there.” She cast a quick glance at her mate. “That’s why I’m sending Broken to supervise them, along with the best negotiator we have.”

“Who?” asked Frei warily.

“Me,” rumbled MakenRoy.

“Him?” Frei was appalled.

“Why not?” MakenRoy grinned a forest of red teeth. “My last negotiations snagged me a mate, an adopted daughter, and got the empire a planet with the only known non-human Alliance source of Zyilan in the galaxy. Oh, and a functional ancient ship. What did yours get you?”

Frei she snapped her mouth shut, her face thunderous.

“Now we just need to arrange suitable transport—”

“I have a solution for that,” Frei's voice cut in. “Bylelle has diplomatic errands in that sector. She would be honored to escort the delegates.”

“Well, then,” Maral said. “It seems your travel arrangements are settled.”

Frei's smile didn’t reach her eyes. “I'll have Bylelle contact you with the departure schedule.”

***

Petre put another shirt in his travel pack, carefully lifting Kina out of the way when she tried to play with the buttons.

She chattered at him in annoyance and launched herself onto Luken, who lounged on his bed.

“Hello to you too, menace.” Luken scratched under the creature's chin. “I see you haven’t taught her any more manners?”

“Manners are for lesser creatures,” Petre replied. “Speaking of which, I need you to watch her while I'm away. She gets into the vents when she's bored.”

“Of course. We’ll have lots of fun, won’t we darling!” She chirped happily in response and ran up his arm to sit on his shoulder, twining her tail around his neck for balance. “When are you leaving?”

“In a couple of days. We’re waiting for Bylelle. She’s taking us on the Frost Pearl .”

Luken grimaced. “That’ll be fun.”

Petre shook his head. “You have odd ideas of fun.” He sighed. “I don’t know how I’ll avoid her, being stuck on the Pearl with her for days on end. At least I have a good excuse for why I can’t give them more data.”

Luken sat up, carefully steadying Kina as he did. “Get over it. This trip is a stroke of luck for us. I finally heard from my contact. There may be a resistance cell willing to meet with us. I think I’ve finally convinced them I’m legit.”

Petre froze in his packing and spun to look at him. “Where?”

Luken smiled grimly. “That’s the best bit. They want to meet on IntGalOne. It’s perfect for them to blend in with the other travelers.”

“Convenient timing.”

“Isn't it just?” Luken absently stroked Kina’s fur as the Volpur settled in his lap. “Though getting away from Bylelle long enough to make contact…”

Petre grimaced, abandoning his packing to sink onto the bed beside his brother. “She'll watch me like a hunting cat. But we don't have a choice.” He touched the back of his neck where the psychic block sat, a constant aching reminder. “And it buys us time. A few more days before I have to produce results.”

Kina sensed the shift in mood, abandoning Luken to butt her head against Petre's hand with worried chirps. Petre scratched the Volpur's ears, letting the simple affection ground him.

“Pete, just… be careful. The way she looks at you sometimes…”

Petre's dry laugh held no humor. “Don't worry, Brother. I know exactly what she is. I can handle her.” He stood, dislodging Kina, who immediately scaled his leg to perch on his shoulder. “She won’t be too vicious, because otherwise she’ll have to explain to Frei why she broke their new toy. Besides, better me than someone else. At least I know what game we're playing.”

“Do you?” Luken's voice was quiet. “Because from where I'm sitting, it looks you’re making it up as you go along.”

Petre moved to the window, Kina's tail curling protectively around his neck. “Maybe. But as long as she's focused on me, she's not looking too closely at what you're doing. I’ll keep her distracted, you work on getting Father out.” He managed a ghost of his usual smile. “Try not to start a revolution while I'm gone.”

“As if I'd do anything that interesting without you.” Luken's expression softened. “Stay safe, Brother.”

“You too.” Petre hesitated, lifting Kina from his shoulder to deposit her in Luken's arms. “And Luke? If anything happens…”

“I know.” Luken's voice carried the weight of decades of shared understanding. “I'll watch over them both.”

***

The Verit transport loomed above the landing pad like a blade done in silver, all sweeping lines that looked both beautiful and vaguely threatening. Rowen adjusted her travel pack and made a vain attempt to smooth her hair again.

Despite spending months working alongside Verit males, she still felt completely out of her depth with the elegance and grandeur of Verit culture.

“Impressive, isn't it?” Varian's smile carried easy warmth as he approached. “The Maman do like to travel in style.”

Rowen smiled, pleased to see a friendly face. “I was just thinking it looks like an unsheathed blade. Beautiful and deadly.”

“You're not entirely wrong,” he admitted.

“I'll keep that in mind. Are you our pilot for the trip?”

When he didn’t reply, she realized his gaze was fixed on something over her shoulder. The focus and naked adoration on his face made her spin around, curious to see what had captivated him. One of the junior Maman approached. Rowen hadn’t met her before, just seen her around the compound. She was beautiful, with gold hair and fair skin, a shimmer of highlight on her cheeks to accent her elegant bone structure. She wore a dark red jumpsuit with a white fur thrown carelessly over it.

“Lady Bylelle.” Varian’s bow was textbook perfect. “The engineers have arrived.”

Bylelle smiled at her, and Rowen’s empathic senses screamed in jagged warning. The Maman’s emotional signature was…wrong. There was no other way to describe it. Sharp, serrated, it scraped her senses and burned like acid. She tasted bile in her throat. Every sense she had was blaring at her to get as far away as possible.

“Welcome to the Frost Pearl .” Bylelle's smile was precisely calibrated, showing exactly the right amount of teeth. Rowen knew with absolute certainty that she had spent time practicing it in the mirror. There wasn’t an iota of warmth in it.

“I trust you'll find the accommodations adequate.” She examined the ship with a proprietary eye. “The Frost Pearl is my personal ship, my home away from home.”

Rowen made herself speak, “It is beautiful and deadly, Maman. Much like its owner.” Rowen strongly suspected that people that didn’t comply with Bylelle’s wishes quickly found life becoming very unpleasant.

Bylelle gave her a pleased smile. “How sweet of you to say.”

“You honor us with your hospitality, Lady.” Rowen hadn’t heard Petre so glacial since that first day on Casti. She turned to give him a nod in welcome. Another male that stood beside him bowed to the Maman, but Rowen’s attention was fixed on the Maman.

As soon as she had set eyes on Petre, her gaze had fixed on him. It was more than a little disquieting in its intensity. Bylelle's elegantly manicured hand brushed Petre’s shoulder and the way her fingers lingered, as if she had the right to touch him, set Rowen’s teeth on edge, as did Petre’s icy silence. “Thank you, Petre. I'm pleased to have the opportunity to spend time together on our journey.”

Bylelle beckoned and Varian fell into step beside her without a second glance as they disappeared into the ship. Petre stood frozen, rooted to the spot, staring after her. Rowen had no idea what he was feeling, his emotions locked so tight not a hint of them escaped his odd shield.

“Well,” she murmured to Petre, “that was…”

“Theatrical?”

“I was going to say ‘intensely uncomfortable,’ but theatrical works too.”

Petre motioned to his companion, and Rowen's eyes widened in shock as she looked at him properly. She'd known Petre had a twin— everyone knew that there were astonishing male twins on the colony, unheard of on Falosia, but actually seeing them together was entirely different. Where Petre was all arrogant, brittle restraint, this one practically radiated mischief.

“Luken-De,” he introduced himself with a slight bow. “The more charming brother.”

“Debatable,” Petre muttered, then he grinned. “At least I’m the better looking one.”

Luken huffed, and Rowen was startled into a laugh. What did you know? Petre did have a sense of humor. And as for being the better looking one, well. Oh my, Goddess, be praised.

Both brothers were flat-out gorgeous. Romance novel gorgeous. Interstellar entertainment channel movie gorgeous. Petre on his own was a stunner, but together, no female in the sector was safe. They both had long silver hair and pale skin, like so many of the Verit males. The pointed ears and sharpness to their jaws and cheekbones that were ever so slightly “other” screamed their non-human DNA. The ubiquitous black jumpsuit that the Dathalka clan males typically wore complemented their coloring perfectly.

Petre cuffed his brother on the back of his head affectionately, and she nearly did a double take. It was the first time, she realized, that she’d seen him so playful. “Rowen, this is my brother Luken-De, senior colony planner on Dalat. Luken, please meet Lady May, the environmental and horticultural engineer on my new project.”

“Lady May,” Luken continued. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Rowen didn’t know quite what to make of that. Luken embraced his brother. “Try not to have too much fun while you’re away,” he joked. “The rest of us will stay here, slaving away.”

“It is a work trip, you know,” Petre retorted.

Luken groaned. “Please tell me you aren’t going all the way to a water planet, and aren’t doing even a bit of sightseeing?”

Rowen chuckled at his antics. “If we have time, I’d love to go on a submersible trip. I’ve heard they’re amazing.”

MakenRoy and Broken appeared in time to hear the end of the conversion. MakenRoy shook his head firmly. “Absolutely not. My people are not built for water.”

Rowen shrugged. “You can sit that one out then, or we’ll find something else we can all do.”

“See?” Luken teased. “Rowen isn’t above having some fun!”

“I said if we have time,” she emphasized.

Another Verit male stuck his head out of the open hatch. “Departure in five!” he hollered.

MakenRoy heaved his bag, and he and Broken headed off towards the stairs.

“Alright, we better get on. Lovely to meet you, Luken.”

“And you, Lady.”

The interior of the Frost Pearl was stunning. The entrance hall soared two stories up, its walls a latticework of silver and crystal that caught and scattered light in mesmerizing patterns. Delicate walkways spiraled upward, their railings traced with designs that reminded her of frost on glass. The effect was stunning and intimidating, as intended.

A young Verit warrior materialized at her elbow, white braids gleaming. “If you'll permit me, Lady May, I would be honored to escort you to your quarters.”

Petre's shoulder cut between them, a living wall, and Rowen blinked in surprise. “Thank you, brother, but I'll see to the Lady's comfort.”

The warrior's boots shifted on the polished floor. His gaze darted from Petre's immovable stance to Rowen and back again. A heartbeat stretched. Two. “Of course. The Lady's comfort is paramount.”

MakenRoy's clawed hand descended on the warrior's shoulder. “Come on, you can show Broken and I where our rooms are.”

After the young male wandered off with MakenRoy, Rowen raised an eyebrow at Petre. “Want to explain what that was about?”

“On Verit, no female goes unattended,” he explained as they made their way up one of the spiraling walkways. “It would be…unthinkable. They're considered too precious.”

She snorted. “I'm an engineer, not some delicate flower that needs protecting. I can find my own quarters. Besides, that’s a bit rich coming from you? I seem to remember a certain Verit male abandoning me on my second day on the job…”

His lips twitched. “I said I was sorry about that. And I know well that you are highly capable. But I thought you might prefer my company to some earnest warrior trying to anticipate your every whim.” He winked mischievously. “Besides, I'm used to your complete lack of proper Verit manners. You’d probably traumatize the young male for life, insisting on doing things for yourself.”

“Lack of—” she sputtered in indignation, then caught the glint in his eyes. “You're teasing me.”

“Would I dare?” He winked at her and she stopped, giving him a dramatic look up and down. “What’s wrong?”

She circled him. “Who are you and what have you done with Petre?”

He laughed. “What’s that mean?”

“Just that I’ve never seen you this…light. This…bouncy.”

He shrugged. “Maybe I’m looking forward to getting off planet, some time away from…everything.”

“You need a vacation after working for a month on your dream project with the most incredible technology in the galaxy?” she poured skepticism into her voice. It bounced off him like peas off a wall.

He shrugged. “Come on. Let me show you where everything is before some other well-meaning brother tries to adopt you.”

As they walked to their rooms, Petre occasionally pointing out features on the ship, she wondered when exactly his distance had given way to something that felt almost like friendship.

By the time she reached her quarters, she half expected him to just nod politely and leave. But instead, he hesitated and met her gaze. “I’ll be escorting you to dinner,” he said simply, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Rowen raised a brow. “Are you afraid I’ll get lost?”

He smirked, leaning against the doorframe. “I just thought you might appreciate the company.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You mean you thought I might need a guide, so I don’t offend anyone with my uncivilized Falosian ways ?”

His lips twitched. “That too. They’ll send a server for us when it's time, usually around eighteen hundred. I hope you brought a dress; it’ll be formal.”

She rolled her eyes. “Trust a Verit ship to have dinner as a formal event.” Then she frowned. “And thanks for warning me!”

He snickered.

Thank the Goddess she’d planned ahead.