Too bad I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. And since he’s walking away, I’ll probably never find out. Which, I decide, is a very good thing. Because such things just aren’t done…no matter how good his broad shoulders and muscled chest look in his black guard’s uniform.
And they look very, very good.
Lara tugs at my cloak, and I glance at her.
“You might want to get that look off your face,” she murmurs in a voice that’s as amused as it is concerned.
“What look?”
“The I-want-to-get-into-that-guard’s-pants-and-have-a-party look.”
Sadly, she’s probably right, even though he looks as good from the back as he did from the front. He also looks like trouble with a capital T. For a moment, I have a longing for all the things I can’t have.
Then he glances over his shoulder at me, the smirk still in place, like he knows exactly what I’m thinking, and the longing gives way to annoyance. In response, I give him my best bored regal stare—the one I learned from my mother even before I learned the different gravities on the nine planets.
He doesn’t crumble like most men do. Maybe because I’m doing it wrong. Or maybe because he’s made of sterner stuff. Either way, I ignore the smirk and force my mind to other things.
I wonder what the Reformer is—I’ve never heard of a ship by that name, and I consider myself a bit of an expert on our fleet. Whatever it is, it’s got the doctor flustered, and that intrigues me even more.
From everything I know about Dr. Veragelen—which is a lot, as science has always fascinated me and I’m a huge fan of hers—she’s seen and done it all in her career. Though she started off on an exploratory vessel all those years ago, she’s steadily been working her way up until she’s not only the head scientist on the Caelestis but director of the whole Corporation, answering only to the board controlled by the Ruling Families.
Is it any wonder everyone is here to meet the doctor and see what she’s managed to accomplish in the last four years? Dr. Veragelen eats problems for breakfast, which is why my mother put her in charge of the biggest problem we’ve got—saving Senestris from total annihilation.
As I follow her, the other diplomats keeping pace behind me, I can’t help thinking the doctor is everything and nothing like what I expected. Tall and almost emaciated, with short, sensibly cut gray hair, she looks exactly like every picture I’ve ever seen of her.
I force down my disappointment at her initial brusqueness and follow her through a large set of double doors. On the plus side, my nerves have settled and all that’s left is excitement.
I can’t wait to see this ship.
It’s rumored there are alien artifacts on board, and I’ve always been fascinated by anything to do with the Ancients—the name we gave whoever must have lived here long before us. Of course, some people don’t believe there was ever an ancient alien race on any planet in the system, but there’s evidence of their existence all over Senestris, though mainly on Serati. I guess for some, it’s more comforting to believe we’re the first than that any civilization could end—especially given our current looming demise.
The doors lead into a corridor with a curved ceiling and walls made of some sort of silver metal. The light illuminating the hallway is soft and orange, and though I look for where it’s coming from, I can’t find an energy source.
As we continue down the hallway, questions bubble up in my mind—so many that it’s hard to keep them all straight. How is the ship powered? How many people are currently on board? What are they working on? Where are the Ancient artifacts? And most importantly: Have they found a way to save our sun?
I want to ask her, but Dr. Veragelen is striding off at a brisk speed, and it’s all I can do to keep up in my ridiculous dress.
She finally stops at what I presume is some sort of safety door and presses her palm to the biometric scanner. I take the opportunity to move closer.
“Dr. Veragelen, can you tell me a little about the work the Corporation is doing here? Have you had any breakthroughs?”
She turns to me with a glint in her eyes that makes me just a tiny bit uncomfortable. “I can confirm that we are well on our way to finding the solution to the accelerated degeneration of our sun. We believe we have the means in our hands to not only stop that degeneration but to reverse the effects. Rest assured, your lives are in our hands, and we will save you all.”
Her voice rings with conviction, but I don’t know—there’s something about that one brief look that makes me think there’s more here than what she’s saying. Also, it’s hard to ignore the fact that she hasn’t exactly answered my question.
I open my mouth to come at it another way, but we’re already moving again, and it takes all my concentration not to trip over my cape. Royal protocol or no, I’m never wearing this thing again.
As we continue racing through the same corridor, which I’m guessing runs a loop parallel to the ship’s perimeter, it’s just more of the same. Numerous doors that line both sides. All closed with complicated security panels. All labeled Classified and Authorized Personnel Only.
The more secured doors we pass and the less Dr. Veragelen says, the more curious I get. What happened to her giving us a “tour”？
Yes, the doors are marked Classified, but we’re delegates from each of the planets’ governments. We have top security clearance. And we’re with the woman who runs this entire ship and who presumably has access to everything on it.
So what is she waiting for?
This meeting is supposed to give the delegates good news they can take back to their people, settle the unrest, and give them hope for the future. We all need to believe that the Empress, together with the Corporation, is working on a solution, which will be impossible if we never get to see evidence that the solution exists.
“Dr. Veragelen,” I finally say as we pass yet another Restricted sign at top speed. I’m beginning to think she’s training for next year’s interplanetary games. There’s no other reason for her to be rushing us past these laboratories so fast. “Are we actually going to be entering any of the labs,” I ask, “or are you just planning on walking us past them all?”
I hear a low snigger and turn slightly to peer at the guard at her shoulder, but his face is expressionless. Maybe I imagined it.
“We’re almost there,” Dr. Veragelen assures me, then smiles in a way that looks like it hurts more than a little.
“Almost where?” demands Ambassador Terra. “We’ve been walking for ten minutes and haven’t seen anything but doors we aren’t allowed through.”
The others grumble their agreement. Obviously, I’m not the only one irritated with what’s beginning to feel like a waste of time.
The high priestess from earlier is the only one who doesn’t look like they want to skin Dr. Veragelen alive—and me along with her. But she doesn’t look exactly happy, either. More like befuddled, which still isn’t what we need people to take away from this trip.
Which means I’m going to have to say something else. Even though I don’t have a clue what that something is yet.