you?”
Holy shit. Didn’t I have this conversation with Xyla when we first arrived on ALCOR Station? She was talking about bots, though. Not princesses.
The girl’s smile turns into a snort. “Where in the system have you been hiding? This is Harem Station. Buying and selling Cygnian princesses is all they do here.”
I laugh and look around. “Trust me. This is not Harem Station.”
“Wow.” The girl takes a step back from the bar. “Either you’re some kind of quantum visitor—” She says this like it’s fun conspiracy theory—“Or you’re off your medication and I should really find you a doctor.”
“What?”
“Uh… I gotta go. Thanks for the drink. And the tushberry juice code.” She taps her head. “I got it saved up here. No need to write it down.”
“Hold on,” I say. “Just. Hold on. I don’t want you to go yet. I need answers and you’re the only one around.”
She stares at me and I watch her glow decrease right before my eyes. She drank so much juice, her recharge should be good for weeks. Even if she was having sex two or three times a spin. But she’s… deteriorating. “Listen, I know I’m gonna sound crazy, but if you just give me a few minutes to explain, I’m sure it will all make sense.”
She sighs and looks over her shoulder at the door. Like she would rather go back to her precarious semi-prisoner situation than stay here and talk to me.
“Would you believe… quantum traveler, princess?” I ask. Hopeful.
She shrugs. “I’ve heard weirder. Hell, I’ve seen weirder. I mean, the whole reason the spin node is all messed up is because those boys came through last year.”
“What boys?”
“Jimmy? Remember? Some ship came through the spin node. And I don’t have the whole story, because I’m just some lowly silver princess slave who can’t even glow anymore, but I heard that the ship was one stolen from Wayward Station twenty years ago. And those boys on board? They were the exact same age they were when they left.”
“What?”
“Yeah. Crazy.” Her glow dims down yet another level. “And now they’re starving us of juice and fruit so we can’t recharge at all unless we go along with the new program.” She does air quotes for the word program.
Sun-fucked gods. “What program?”
“Some kind of genetics thing. At least that’s what they say. But girls have been disappearing. They agree to the jabs and tests, they get their juice and fruit, and everything is fine for a few spins. Then…” She shakes her head. “They just disappear. So now we’re having a little rebellion. Refusing to go along. And they must need our consent. Whatever their doing, it must require some level of cooperation because they don’t force us. Now they’re just starving us. We’ve resisted as long as we can. Thanks to you, I’ll probably get by another two spins. But everyone else will surrender tomorrow. We’re just too weak.”
Both of us are silent for a little while. She’s probably thinking about her friends. And I’m definitely thinking about mine.
Finally, I say, “What happened to them? The boys on that ship? Do you know where they are?”
She frowns at me. “They towed the ship to the station and when they broke open the locks, there were seven boys inside. But they were all dead.”
“Dead.” I whisper it. Then I turn away and stare at myself in the mirror behind all the liquor bottles as a prickly heat begins coursing through my body. “This was supposed to be the sweet version.” My words come out low and angry.
“Excuse me?”
“That’s what I asked for. And this?” I turn around to face her again. Her eyes widen when they meet up with mine. She takes a step back and I can only imagine what I look like with sick, violet light pouring out of my eyes. “This is what he gives me? The evil Harem Station twin where we’re stealing their light?”
She shakes her head, not understanding. Then she starts to back away.
But I reach across the bar, grab her arm, and grip it tight. Because I have things to say and she’s the only one here to say them to. “That fucker lied to me. Do hear me? He lied! This was supposed to be the sweet version. This was supposed to be my one chance.”
“One chance at what?” she says. Trying to tug her arm out of my grip.
But I don’t let go of her. “To finally, after twenty-one years, find my sun-fucked soulmate.