Parking her scooter in orbit, she told the Archangel’s lock to cycle her though. Miko laughed at the Choctaw paint. “Going native?” Living under a death sentence had not stifled her sense of fun. She had on something colorful and Japanese-looking, a sort of ship’s kimono that came only to the knees. “Stow your stuff in the port stateroom. I’ll get us hopping.”
The port stateroom had the bluegrass carpet. Holographic effects turned the interior into a forest clearing amid tall trees draped with strangler vine. Birds sang in the green canopy. Sunlight splashed down onto the bed and sideboard. Tossing her bag on the bed, Tiffany took a moment to strip off her coveralls, and wash the paint off her face in a rock basin waterfall. Her new digs made the four-star cabin aboard the Nightingale seem like a prison cubicle. But beneath all the finery, Archangel was still a slowboat, using 3V effects to fight boredom and claustrophobia.
Tiffany stepped back into the leather-lined saloon, with its auto-bar and Picasso pen-and-inks. Tiny gold robot insects with crystal wings and jeweled eyes flitted about the light panels. The comforts of home, and then some. Right now, Faith was sharing Tiffany’s four-star cabin with two families of refugees. Some comedown. Not that Faith could complain. Everyone crammed aboard the Nightingale was in a holiday mood.
The command cabin was more Spartan, like the cab of a luxury ATV. Simple instruments, soft command couches, plus an attached washroom, mini-galley, and sleeping quarters. The crew could live and stand watches without intruding on passenger country.
Archangel’s sole crew member grinned as Tiffany entered. “Glad to see you.”
Sensors said it was true. Now that they were face-to-face, Tiffany read Miko five-by-five. Heartbeat, GSR, pupil dilation and voice modulation were all analyzed by microsensors grafted onto Tiffany’s skull. So long as she paid close attention, no one could hide their feelings from her. Not that Miko tried.
“Not too late to change your mind,” Miko reminded her.
Tiffany shook her head. It was way too late. By now the Nightingale was boosting outsystem, accelerating toward light speed. Nightingale might at best make one last round trip, but heaven knows what she would return to. Belt City was in bad shape already.
Miko did not see it that way. Bad as Belt City was, Floreal figured to be worse. The whole B system had long been written off. Always the lesser half of the double system, 3645B had fewer people and slimmer prospects. 3645A might actually emerge from the coming catastrophe in fair shape. Belt City would be a memory, but there were schemes to recolonize the emerging G-type system, even using some of the same people. No one had any such plans for 3645B. It would be pulled into the white giant’s incandescent zone, never to escape. Whatever circled that tiny red sun would be burned clean, torn apart, or vaporized. Maybe all three. Tiffany was dragging Miko into the eye of the storm.
“What’s in Floreal anyway?” Miko genuinely wanted to know.
Tiffany shrugged. “That’s what I am going to find out.”
“Hell of a time to get curious.”
“I have reasons. Why did you agree to take me?” Tiffany felt oddly protective toward the smaller woman, not wanting to see her hurt more. Miko could still back out, letting Tiffany pilot the ship.
Miko shrugged. “It’s not like I’m going anywhere.”
“You might have angled for the ticket out.” Faith’s claim to Archangel sounded dubious, even by Belt City standards. And Miko was the one getting Tiffany where she had to go.
Miko gave her head a swift shake that said drop the subject. Interfacing with the ship’s computer, she set up a course for Floreal. “You are an odd one.”
“Me?” If anything, Tiffany considered herself way too simple. Her mission left no room for complications.
“You act more concerned with me than with your own survival. You are not a holo anymore, remember?”
“But I am a volunteer.”
“Just what confuses me.” Miko punched the go code. They were off. Tiffany relaxed into the tedium of space travel. Dullest form of transportation this side of a submarine—with no feeling of movement, and only microscopic changes in scenery. Belt City shrank behind them. The B system got bigger ahead.
To pass time, she reshaped her stateroom, dumping the jungle motif that meant nothing to her, turning her living quarters into a grass-floored chalet in the Aesir Alps. Green meadows sloped down on all sides, dotted with bear grass and columbines. The Quartz Peaks shone in the background. She did it from memory, since her home world, Aesir III, was not in the Archangel’s files. Few things felt more satisfying than having your surroundings fit you perfectly. In the end, she got the bluegrass to blend so neatly into the meadow she had to show it off, and went looking for Miko.
Miko’s stateroom was a beach house on Kikku, Chi Draconis IV—so Tiffany traveled better than a thousand light years just by crossing the saloon. The beach house was floored with fresh green-smelling tatami. Miko was out in the 3V area, on a long curving beach, splashing in the surf beneath china-blue skies.
Tiffany called out. Miko had to be only a few paces off; virtual effects made it look like a hundred meters. Someone was with her, playing naked in the waves. Tiffany shaded her eyes to see. Bright as the light seemed, it had been toned down. Chi Draconis was an F7 sub-giant, and romping in the surf at noon would knock you dead. She could not make out the second woman’s face, but her hair and figure were unmistakable. It was Faith.
Suddenly, Miko appeared naked in front of her, dripping salt water on the tatami. Telescoped distance took Tiffany by surprise. She turned away, saying, “Sorry, I didn’t mean…”
“Don’t be.” Miko reached for a towel. “I’ve got no secrets.” A mild reproof—she was not the one hiding things. A minute later, Miko sat beside her on the alpine meadow, still wrapped in her towel, hands clasped across her knees, smelling like the sea. “Utterly stupendous,” she declared. “So this is your home world?”
Tiffany nodded. “From time to time, I miss her.”
“What made you leave?”
“Wanderlust. My training’s in offplanet diplomacy. Figured it had to take me somewhere.”
“Diplomacy? You mean the Peace Corps?”
“Yep.” No harm in admitting that.
“A diplomat. Does it mean you’re wired for lie detection?”
“I’m reading you right now. Hope you don’t mind.” Tiffany could turn it off. “Why should I?” Miko had nothing to hide. Nothing she said ever registered remotely like a lie. Tiffany liked that. “What’s a diplomat doing headed for Floreal? Shouldn’t you be teaching Jutes and Choctaws to love their neighbors?”
Tiffany deftly switched the subject. “I don’t suppose you come from Kikku.”
Miko shook her head. “Born in a habitat. Never been outsystem. Never breathed open air.”
“Might happen,” Tiffany told her.
Miko gave her a long look. “Not the way we’re headed.”
“There’s time.” Tiffany felt awkward talking about the future, especially since there might not be one. She switched subjects again. “Are you in love with her?” If so, it explained a lot.
Miko stared out at the shining peaks. “Who wouldn’t be?”
Tiffany shook her head decisively. “Not my type.” She admired Faith’s determination, but not her methods.
“I suppose you’d prefer a man?” Miko said it casually, still studying the mountains.
“Depends on the man.” Tiffany meant it.
Miko shrugged. “Never saw the need myself.”