“Fine,” she says. Just as Tray gets up and walks over to her, handing her a tablet.
“This is the program Corla is running,” he says. And then he starts pointing out the missing information he needs. It takes a while for them to figure everything out, so I just sit down at a console near Luck and wait for her to be done.
When Tray has what he needs, Lyra comes over to me. I take her hand and give it a squeeze. Letting her know this is for the best and she did the right thing.
Then ALCOR says, “Serpint?”
“Yes,” I say.
“The cyborg master would like to speak to you and Lyra in private. He’s waiting in the medical center for you. Please stop by before you take Lyra back to your quarters.”
“Sure,” I say, standing up. “Come on, Lyra.”
She keeps quiet until we’re outside in the hallway. Then she practically explodes with light.
Which I interpret as anger.
And I’m right.
“How dare you?” she spits.
“What am I gonna say, Lyra? If ALCOR says you’re not going, then you’re not going. That’s just the end of it. There’s no way off this station without his permission.”
“You could’ve fought for me!” she says, glowing with rage.
“Why would I do that?” I almost laugh. “I don’t want you going. I want you here, safe. So when I return you’re—”
“Waiting for you?” She guffaws at the ceiling. “I’m a fucking military officer, Serpint. Not a helpless fairytale princess. And if I had my own ship I’d go without you! All of you! I don’t need your help! I know what I’m doing.”
I’m ready to list about a dozen counterpoints to that. Things like, Oh, really? Is that why you got kidnapped off Bull Station and ended up in here in Crux’s little princess harem? Or things like, I suppose you’ll just concoct another half-baked inhibitor disguise that wears off in the middle of the job?
But I know better. So I say, in the calmest voice I can muster up, “Lyra. I can’t lose you now. I lost my whole team three days ago and you’re all I have left. So please, just let us handle it.”
She glares at me, but then softens. Just a little. And her light fades to a soft, pink glow. “Fine.”
“Good,” I say, squeezing her hand and giving her a smile. “It’s not that I don’t think you’re capable—”
“I get it,” she says.
“You sure?” I ask. Because this went a lot easier than I’d imagined a few seconds ago.
“I’m sure,” she says, nodding. “Now why does that vile master want to see us again?”
“I dunno,” I say. “Let’s find out.”
When we get to the medical center a bot leads us down the hall to the office. The master is sitting at his desk, wearing his white lab coat, tapping away at his tablet.
“Oh, good,” he says. “Come in, close the door, and have a seat.”
“What’s this about?” Lyra asks, irritated.
He stares at her with his one eyeball sensor and says, “You two were having problems earlier and we got off track. I just wanted to see if you were interested in knowing why your light was so… sporadic when it comes to your sex life.”
Lyra turns to me. “I’m not talking about our sex life with this thing.”
“Lyra,” the master says. And we all know what’s coming. “I’m a certified sex therapist—”
She puts up a hand. “I don’t want to hear about it. I stopped believing in all these fictitious certifications after Prince the bot told me he graduated from Serpint’s Sex University.” Then she pauses and looks at me. “Where is that bot, anyway? He’s been missing all day.”
“Oh, shit. He’s probably still in jail. I’ll bail him out when I get back from the mission.”
“Or I could do it,” she offers.
I shrug. “Sure. Knock yourself out. He’s yours now anyway.”
“Back to the sex therapy,” the master says.
“Right. Let’s hear it then,” I say. Because I know Lyra is about at the end of her patience with this guy.
“Lyra’s light represents her emotions in the moment—”
“I know that,” Lyra interrupts. “I’ve been lighting up my whole life. I don’t need your input.”
“—so when the light is dim, she is calm,” the master says, ignoring her outburst. “It doesn’t mean she’s unhappy, or unsatisfied, or not in the mood.” He blinks his red light eyeball at us. Like he’s winking. “Dim light is actually a sign of contentment.”
“So the wild light?” I ask.
“That’s heightened emotions, nothing more. It could be anger, or fear, or an exceptional orgasm.”
“OK, I’m done here,” Lyra says, turning to leave. Then she calls over her shoulder, “Thanks for the tip.”
I give the master a smile, then follow her out, jogging a little to catch up and take her hand. “You know, he’s not a bad guy.”
“Save it,” she says.