Page 16 of Bound By Stars
“How am I supposed to know? Saw her heading toward the escape pod bay.” Hale grumbles, still frowning at me, “Maybe she’ll do us all a favor and jump ship.”
“I’ll keep you company, Ash.” Picking up the glass in front of W. Fleet’s plate, I plop into the empty seat and reach over Curran to clink it to Asha’s. I peek down at the tablet he’s holding. “Who are you messaging?”
“What?” His head jerks up and flips the tablet over. “No. No one.” Curran pops out of his seat, his tablet in one hand and his eyebrows furrowed like he’s solving a complicated math equation in his head.
“You all right?” I ask.
“It’s too noisy here to work. I’m going to my room.” He moves to leave, turning back to snag the champagne glass out of my hand before he rushes through the crowd and out the doors.
Asha hands me her untouched glass and shrugs. “Have mine. I don’t like the bubbles.”
My eyes flick traitorously toward my family’s table, and my mother’s glare is as loud as a scream. I pause with the rim of the glass touching my bottom lip and place it back on the table. “Looks like I have to go.”
Asha follows my stare and then mouths,Good luck.
I stand, raise my hands in surrender, and wind my way through the tables toward the center of the room.
Only a table away, someone gently takes my hand to stop me. Aquilla Nole’s grip is weak, her skin wrinkled and papery. She feels as fragile as she looks in her long-sleeve blue satin dress, but old age hasn’t made her any less fierce. I’ve watched her eviscerate the Elysium ambassador for boring her and bring the head of Aphelion Corp close to tears for taking a seat at her table without invitation. Somehow, I’ve earned a permanent place on her good side.
The wrinkles deepen around her eyes as she smiles up at me, patting our clasped hands. “Jupiter, love, I wondered when you would come say hello.”
“I’m sorry, Quilly. I’m a little distracted tonight. How are you?” I glance at my parents, who are engaged in conversation, and squat down, face to face with the beady eyes of the fox fur wrap hanging around her shoulders.
“As well as is to be expected. I have no business in space at my age, but if I die on a historical voyage, maybe people will remember me.” Not an heir herself, she’s the aunt of the Nole Corp head, Curran’s great-aunt, and seems to spend most of her time watching over most social events. She’s been talking about her impending death for as long as I can remember, but I was always drawn in by her stories: spacewalks, hiking the Elysium Rise on Mars, traveling Earth. Plus, she’s the only person in this crowd of stuffy people who’s always ready to tell the unfiltered truth.
“I will definitely remember you.” I smile, gently squeezing her delicate fingers.
A strong grip clamps on the shoulder of my jacket, yanking me up to stand. “Your mother needs you, Mr. Dalloway.”
I sigh. “Gianna, will you please call me Jupe?”
“Now, Mr. Dalloway.”
“No need to manhandle the boy,” Quilly scolds her. “Tell his mother while she’s waiting for her sweet boy to visit with a lonely old woman, she can work on pulling that stick out of her ass.”
I cough out a laugh. “Not sure that would help my situation, Quilly. I’d better go. Have a good night.”
She pulls me down into a hug and by the noise Gianna makes, I assume Quilly isn’t smiling at her over my shoulder.
I march toward my parents’ table, Gianna on my heels. Stopping in front of the empty chair, I bow my head. “You summoned me, Mother?”
“Take your seat, Jupiter.”
A strong hand forces me to sit. Gianna takes her post at the side of the room to watch and wait for my mother’s next order.
Mom leans toward me and discreetly whispers, “Calypso tells me you’ve been assigned an additional final project as a favor to them?”
“I’m working with the bot contest winner.” I match her volume.
“How charitable,” my mother says without an ounce of sincerity.
“I see it as more of a learning experience,” I say through my teeth. “Calypso asked me to help her draw the bot’s plans out before we get to Mars.”
She draws back a little, a strange expression crossing her face that I can’t quite read. Curiosity maybe?
Turning away, she picks up her champagne flute with three fingers. “Fine. As long as you also make it to your tutoring session.”
“Has everyone seen the arboretum?” Skye’s mother, Simone Dupont, surveys the table.
