Starship Spring Read Online Free Page A

Petronious utterly charming. Urbane, witty, sophisticated, and he possessed a phenomenal knowledge of human art. For an alien, he struck me as very… humane.”
    “What happened?”
    “We met Petronious at the opening of Matt’s exhibition on Bokotar; Matt had heard of him—he’s one of the most influential patrons on the art scene—but had never met him. A few days later he contacted Matt and arranged a meeting. I wasn’t there, but Matt told me later about Petronious’s offer. He wanted to buy the ten-year exhibition rights to Matt’s pieces for over three million standard credits.”
    I whistled. “And Matt agreed, but then had second thoughts, right? He thought he was selling out?”
    Maddie pursed her lips, considering. “I… no, I wouldn’t say that. He seemed happy with the deal. Petronious has good taste and access to all the best art venues. Matt was sure his work would get maximum coverage around the Expansion… But he seemed, I don’t know… withdrawn after Bokotar, as if he was worried about something. I asked him about it –” she laughed “– I thought he’d finally got sick of me! He was upset by that, asked me how I could think such a thing. But he claimed he was fine, not worried about a thing. So,” she lifted her hands in a helpless gesture, “I don’t know if I’m worrying over nothing, being paranoid…”
    I reached out and took her small hand. “I’ll talk to Matt, see if I can work out what’s bothering him. If anything is, of course. In the meantime, let’s enjoy the break, okay?”
    Maddie smiled and raised her glass. “To the break,” she said, “and to friends.”
    We chatted for a little longer, then Maddie yawned tipsily, kissed me and said goodnight. I returned to the bedroom and rolled into bed beside Hannah; she turned to me and, half asleep, hugged me close.
    Sleep was a long time coming that night. I lay awake, thinking through my encounter with the Yall apparition back at the Mantis … When I was finally dropping off I thought I glimpsed, through the diaphanous walls of the room, a pair of wide, green Ashentay eyes staring in at me.

FOUR
     
     
    The following morning we breakfasted on the balcony of our room, watching silver birds dart into the wall of the waterfall and emerge with flip-flapping golden fish. Later we sat beside the pool on the roof of the complex, in the shade of the trees, and watched Ella swim in the shallows. I had insisted that she learn to swim at the age of two, after what had happened to Carrie all those years ago, and to my delight she had taken to water like the proverbial fish.
    Hawk and Kee joined us. Hawk carried a tray bearing a jug and glasses, and we sat around the pool, chatting and drinking iced fruit juice.
    Hawk drained his glass and stripped down to his swimming trucks, then dived cleanly into the water. He played with Ella, laughing and splashing in the dappled sunlight.
    It was the first time I’d seen the extent of Hawk’s augmentations, the implants that enabled him to interface with his ship. Silver spars and webwork sat flush with his tanned flesh, outlining his broad shoulders and the line of his spine: filaments rose from his neck and cradled the base of his skull, and ports there gave access to the implants in his cerebellum.
    Compared to Hawk, his partner Kee was diminutive, elf-like. She lay beside us on the lounger, tiny in her one-piece bathing costume. I suppose, given the difference of our respective planets, evolution and cultures, it was amazing that the Ashentay should resemble humans in any way, but resemble us they did: bipedal humanoids with symmetrical facial features, the requisite number of fingers and thumbs. But they were also subtly alien, and I couldn’t help staring at Kee as she lay beside us, smiling at Hawk’s antics in the pool.
    Her slightness bordered on anorexic-looking, and, with her almost-white hair swept back, the bulge of her eyes was emphasized. She could in no way be called