“I will.”
“Be careful,” I say.
“I always am.” But I see the cringe and know he’s thinking about Draden and Ceres. Valor and Luck are yelling at Serpint to get off the coms in the background. But he takes a second to place his hand up to the screen, palm first.
I put my hand up to his, almost expecting to feel him. Be able to touch him through the distance.
But I can’t. It’s a trick of technology and not magic.
“See you soon,” he says.
Then he’s gone.
I sigh and slump down into the couch cushions, my excitement over new sexy Xyla clothes dissipating.
Then I pinch the air and open the screen back up to see what it can do.
First, I search for the lock-up to see if I can figure out where I need to go to bail out Prince. I am half hoping ALCOR will come on and give me some guidance, but he doesn’t. Then I remember he’s leaving with them. Probably his copy has better things to do than babysit me.
But I find the lock-up has a search function that will let you know if any of your deviant friends or family are in the pokey. I search his series number and get two thousand possibilities. Which immediately has me thinking that retired nanny bots must need constant supervision to keep them honest. Weird, but whatever.
I move on to search Prince, NannyBot 700 Series, and get nothing. So his new spur-of-the-moment name was never updated. And then I realize he’s mine. So he’s under my name. And I get a chime as his mug shot pops up on the screen. Painted up black matte, pink-glitter belt around his rotund middle, and a dent near his left eye sensor that makes him look like he got in a fight.
There’s a flashing red HOLD tab under his name.
“Illegal discharge of weapon,” I say, reading his charges. “Bail, seven hundred twenty credits. Well, shit.”
Do I even have credits?
But just as I’m thinking that his red HOLD tab changes to a green PAID status and underneath it says, Pick-up required by owner.
“Aww,” I say, tsk-ing my tongue. “Serpint, you are a good guy.”
He must’ve remembered to bail him out for me before he left.
“OK, now all I need is a map so I can go get him.”
And just as those words leave my mouth, a map appears—highlighted in pink—for me to follow. I guess ALCOR is paying attention after all.
And then the auto-shopper dings, signaling the arrival of goods.
Which I didn’t order. But when I walk over to see what’s there, I get all melty again.
Because Serpint sent me some weapons.
Two laser guns that snap snugly into the thigh holsters of my bodysuit and a plasma rifle with a strap that will let me carry it on my back like that kick-ass hostess yesterday morning.
You know your man cares when he sends you weapons to keep you company while he’s at work.
I decide… I love this place.
Then get up and get into the elevator. When I get down on the middle level of the city I follow the blinking pink path paved in front of me on the screen.
I’m just about to get on an escalator when one of those lifty-bots appears on my screen, telling me it’s waiting near the edge of the level where Serpint and I got on the other day.
He’s such a keeper. He sends me weapons, he pays the bot’s bail, and he sends me a lift so it won’t take me an hour to get down to the lock-up, which is on the lower level on the whole other side of the station.
This might actually be true love. Like I might just believe in this whole fated mates bullshit. Because so far, he’s perfect.
It still takes a while to get to the lock-up, but it’s a lot quicker than zig-zagging my way around two dozen people-movers. Plus it gives me a chance to just enjoy looking at things.
The lock-up has a ticket window where you check in, then a large seating area where you sit and wait for your number to be called. I’m just about to sit down when my air screen chimes.
He’s ready! Wow. I swear, when Serpint gets back I’m gonna kiss him all over for taking such good care of me.
I walk to the front screen and tap my flashing bot’s face to let them know I’m here. Almost instantly a door opens to my right and there he is.
He whirrs out, his balance off so he’s tilted a little sideways, chirping out a long not-guilty denial.
“Whatever,” I say. “Let’s just go home.”
But just as we step out of the lock-up and I’m looking around for the lift-bot—because surely if Serpint got me a lift here, he’d get me a lift back—my air screen lights up again.