Page 65 of Pets in Space 10
Amalena smoothed the front of her favorite teal tunic, took one last calming breath, and opened the door. “Welcome. Come on in. You’re right on time.”
“Traffic was predictable for once,” Gaerynx said as he and a leashed Pavrel stepped inside. “It’s nice to have an autocab stop just a few doors down.”
A gust of wind followed them, carrying the clean scent of a spring evening, before she closed the door behind them.
He was wearing the same bright blue sweater he’d worn on the ship, the one that accentuated his lean musculature. She’d thought her attraction meter was still broken from her epic fail of a previous relationship, but time with him proved it wasn’t. She was drawn to him like he was a gravity plate.
She had seen him a few times at work in the eight days since their return from the space station, but this was their promised dinner date.
The company reorganization was on hold, and they were both back in their original roles, at least for now.
She admitted to herself she was ridiculously happy to see both him and his irrepressible kulak.
And, if she was honest, she was nervous, too.
She knew he needed time to sort through things, and pushing him wouldn’t work.
“Dinner will be ready soon,” she said, trying for a casual tone. “It’s just the basic one-dish classic I told you about, with poultry, vegetables, grains, and spices. As for visiting kulaks, there are new fish treats to try — Merix has already given them his seal of approval.”
“It smells great in here,” he said, his dark blue eyes sparkling. “I’ve been looking forward to this all day.”
Amalena reminded herself not to read more into his words than he meant. Unlike her, he probably hadn’t spent thirty minutes waffling over what to wear.
He pointed toward the tray next to her door where her gardening shoes sat, then glanced down at his own feet. “Boots on or off?”
“On is fine,” she said. “The cleaning bot that came with this place is rated for multi-pet, multi-children settings. It’s probably feeling distinctly unappreciated with just me and Merix. Leave your coat on the hooks if you’d like.”
As he shed his coat and stepped across the entryway to hang it, he looked around. “No Merix?”
“Not yet. I’m following Rhys Ma’afe’s advice to leave Merix in my bedroom” — she gestured toward the back of the townhouse — “so the cats can get used to smelling each other without having to interact.” She hoped there would be more opportunities for them to meet, because it meant more dates with Gaerynx.
“You can let Pavrel off the leash to explore. I don’t have much that he can break. ”
She led him into the dining area that opened into her kitchen.
“Have a seat.” She gestured toward her new dining table and almost-matching chairs.
New to her, anyway. The unexpected bonus from RyoGenomica had certainly helped her make her townhouse more welcoming.
The company had labeled it an “on-call differential.” She couldn’t decide if they’d done it out of guilt or as a bribe not to sue. Both could be true.
“I like your decor.” He ran a finger along the curving line of the chair back before pulling it out to sit. “It feels elegant.”
She laughed. “That’s a nice word. My friend Iovanna calls it warehouse chic. I’d rather find interesting, well-made pieces I like than spend my tiny household budget on cheap crap that falls apart in a couple of years.”
As she lifted out a pitcher from her cold box, she asked, “What’s the latest from the Ma’afe News network?”
The company veterinarian had been pleasantly professional when he’d done a checkup on Merix at Margoth’s request, the day after they got home. But with his good friend Gaerynx, he was apparently a fountain of gossip, and Gaerynx had been sharing the best bits.
A smile played across his face. “Dequer and Bikendi are both claiming that Sainik told them a corporate spy burned the paper records. Curiously enough, he told them several hours before I stumbled across the aftermath. Rhys’s source said Sainik told the security team to monitor us at all times on the Herikkusu Dansa because we might be out to sabotage the ship. ”
“I wondered about that,” Amalena said, turning to check on her cooker.
“It makes me think that Sainik only realized after he’d sent us up there that the ship had full company archives.
” She chuckled. “That must have been quite the ‘oh-shit’ moment for him. I heard he’s threatening to take the company to court over ‘breach of contract.’”
Gaerynx’s answering laugh was rich with amusement. “My lawyer says the malfeasance section in our contracts is reasonable and court-tested. I hope Sainik’s lawyer soaks him for a ship-load of billable hours before telling him that.”
A cheerful beep from her cooker told her it was time. She pulled the hot dish out, its savory aroma filling the kitchen. It really did smell good. “I hope the investigators look at Sainik for the records fire. He obviously knew Project Goat Milk records would ruin everything.”
“Yes, but I think he had encouragement,” Gaerynx said.
“He spent half a year with the Nexalon NeuroTherapeutics executive team. I think the CPS was triangulating Sainik. It’s just the kind of convoluted skullduggery my brother and his coworkers used to brag about when drunk or gliding high on whatever chems and alterants they could find. ”
“Sainik certainly has enough ambition to power a starship,” she mused. “He wants to be a white-hot star. He’d be easy to manipulate if you knew the right strings to pull.”
“Especially if you have telepaths on your team to nudge your target back on course if he catches an inconvenient case of second thoughts.” Gaerynx shook his head. “The CPS believes their mission of keeping the galactic peace is more important than laws.”
“Considering the headlines I’ve seen about their budget woes and repeated reorganization debacles, you’d think the CPS would be too busy to meddle with one small company over an unproven drug concept.” She poured water into two glasses and set them on the table.
“High Command probably wouldn’t bother,” Gaerynx agreed. “But the CPS has millions of employees, some of whom are as ambitious as Sainik. I bet interdepartmental competition is a killer.”
Amalena grabbed a large serving spoon from a drawer. “Bring your plate and serve yourself. Want something else to drink?”
“Water is fine.” As he was scooping a generous portion onto his plate, he paused. “That reminds me. I found out what was in the special delivery crate.”
“Do tell.”
“A small fortune in transit-stable wines with a ton of over-boxing and extra packaging,” he replied.
“It was addressed to one of Sainik’s former colleagues in human medical drug sales, who was going to send them back next year.
Sainik’s mistake was using the company’s shipping contractor account, even though he paid for it himself, so it got sent back to the company.
That green crate was blocking the campus’s loading dock, so facilities management opened this morning. ”
“Not a bad effort, considering how little time he had to arrange the distraction,” she said, impressed in spite of herself. “But pesky details were never his strong suit.”
They ate, and by tacit agreement, the conversation drifted away from work.
They talked about his ongoing craft project that doubled as a playground for an apartment-bound kulak, her stacked garden in her tiny backyard, and the latest funny vids making the rounds on the galactic net.
Amalena found him comfortable to be with and easy to talk to.
A circumstance she’d very much like to get used to.
After they’d finished, Amalena pulled two small bowls from a cabinet. She spooned the chicken bits she’d set aside into each, then added the fish treats she’d promised. She handed one bowl to Gaerynx. “For the esteemed guest.”
He set it on the floor for Pavrel, who sniffed it with interest. The kulak took one polite bite of chicken, then pointedly nudged it aside to crunch down on the fish.
“He’s a spoiled snob,” Gaerynx said with an apologetic grin. “For the record, I think the chicken tasted great.”
Amalena laughed. “Noted.” She excused herself to take the other bowl to the back of the townhouse. Merix, who had been waiting with admirable patience, devoured everything with gratifying relish.
When she returned, she said, “Sorry, I don’t keep sweet things in the house because I’ll just eat them. I can offer coffee, kaffa, or hot mulled fruit cider, and we can sit in the front room where it’s cozier.”
“Cider sounds perfect,” he said.
Amalena was usually self-conscious when people were watching her, but she found Gaerynx’s quiet presence comforting as she retrieved a frozen container from her cold box and put it in the flash-cooker to heat.
When the cider was ready, she poured it into two mugs and led the way to the front room.
There, she discovered Pavrel had already made himself at home, sprawled diagonally across her next-to-new sofa in a patch of soft light.
She laughed out loud, startling the kulak, who issued an annoyed hiss before closing his eyes again.
“He’s even using his stubby tail to take up all the space. ”
Gaerynx smiled. “It’s a feline talent.”
She settled into the soft armchair angled toward the sofa, a shared side table between them. Gaerynx moved Pavrel’s hindquarters just enough to sit on the end closest to her. The sofa was a nice addition to her home. So was he.
“I know I’ve said it before,” she began, needing to say it again anyway, “but I’m sorry for springing my talent on you by boosting yours in the computer nexus room.”