Ursa Major - Naomi Lucas

1

Vee wiped her hands on her faded jeans and focused on the sleek black business suit worn by the man in front of her. It was the kind of suit that a woman like her didn’t normally see, and it clearly defined the gap in status between her and this man.

Not so much a man. A Cyborg.

The first Cyborg she’d ever laid eyes on in her life. She knew all about them—she’d been obsessing over their heroics since she could crawl. They filled the fantasies of men and women across the known universe, practically gods among them.

The power, prestige, the fear and awe they generated were felt by every human being. Even their domineering beauty. And Cyborgs were beautiful, even in their I want to kill you, and rugged way. Danger had its allure.

It must be easy, being born into status.

But sitting in front of one now, all she knew was intimidation. That dangerous side they harbored really made itself apparent.

Nightheart. He told her to call him Nightheart. What kind of name is Nightheart?

Unlike Nightheart, Vee was a gutter rat city dweller. Nightheart’s suit alone cost enough to cover her rent for months, not counting the shoes, belt and other accessories.

To be sitting across from a Cyborg, one who silently stared at her, judging her, seeing into her soul, was different than worshiping them from afar. Being in the same room put her firmly inside the blast radius if anything went wrong.

He’s not going to choose me…

She waited for him to speak, to do anything but stare at her in such an uncanny way that it made her skin crawl.

Is there something wrong with me?

Of course there’s a lot wrong with me.

She didn’t look like the average young woman. At least not the type of woman to be in an office like this one, in front of a man like him. There were clean chrome walls and holographic screens everywhere, exaggerating his power and his wealth. Not to mention the vast view of New America City sprawling out from the floor-to-ceiling windows on three sides of them. The sight dizzied her.

She had one window in her apartment, and it faced the dull metal wall of another skyscraper apartment building. Not only that, she was a woman, average or not. Very few women were given these opportunities… and if they were, it was because they had the backing of a big corporation or the government.

No. Vee didn’t belong here. Not with her hair a vibrant dyed-red that shimmered in the light, her makeup to match, and the loose-fitting clothing that hung from her frame, vintage and bright. What corporation would back her? It was a one-in-a-million chance.

She may have proven her talent, but the rest of her left much to be desired.

Vee worked hard to keep the disappointment from her showing on her face. Perhaps I still have a chance to convince him?

But as the minutes ticked by, she feared this may be the entire interview. Him staring at her.

Him judging her.

Him second-guessing why he happened to pick her application out of a sea of them.

“I—”

“You’ll do,” he finally said.

She frowned. “I’ll… do?” Had she heard him correctly?

“I said, you’ll do.”

Excitement surged through her. I’ll do! She nearly jumped from her seat.

But the Cyborg was already focused on something else, ignoring her, as if the long, awkward stare never happened. As if he had no idea what he had just done for her. That he hadn’t judged her solely based on being a solo player.

Still, just because he said she’d do, didn’t mean she had the sponsorship yet. Vee sobered.

Another holographic screen rose beside him, and her gaze snapped to it.

My media site. And with it, her bio, her blog, and her videos appeared.

“Vee Miles,” he said offhandedly. Coldly. Deliberately.

Vee shivered at the sound of her name on his lips.

“We reviewed your resume on our sponsorship program site. It appears you qualify for the Terraform Zero Championship, but you lack the funds to participate. Am I correct?”

She straightened when the words sponsorship and championship came out of his mouth. “Yes,” she answered a little too quickly. “I’ve been training every day since I was six to compete at an interstellar level. I want to be on the front lines colonizing a new planet.”

I want to give hope to the human race. She kept that part to herself.

Nightheart waved his hand, cutting her off. “You have a seventy-eight percent average for planetary habitation success. That’s impressive.”

He was impressed with her? Her toes wiggled.