“While the Cosmic Connections Cruise line is brand new, the Love Boat I actually has a long but mysterious history,” Felicity was informing the passengers as she guided them toward the Starlit Salon. She lowered her voice in a way that felt strangely intimate despite the flattened quality of the monitors. “Some say…it’s haunted.”
Ellix frowned. A quick analysis between his translator and his wrist unit confirmed he understood the word. No one had toldhimthe ship had an infestation of imaginary entities.
“I told you,” Suvan said through the engineering console; he was obviously watching the passenger parade even though he refused to show up for crew gatherings. “Lub knew something was wrong.”
“Griiek’s maintenance log noted signs of a previous larf problem,” Delphine said from her post at the helm. “Maybe Director Rowe doesn’t understand the difference. Sheisfrom a closed world.”
“Inexperienced, maybe, but not incompetent.” Ellix considered. “Likely it’s a story to amuse the passengers.”
Delphine nodded knowingly. “Ambiance.”
On the salon monitors, Felicity smoothly herded the guests past Styr’s indulgent delicacies to Ikaryo’s beverages while telling them about some “dating game” she’d devised for their amusement. The huge oval viewports framed the local sun, filtered of course. As they swung around the various moons, the screens would adjust for maximum ambiance.
The passengers would have the chance to show themselves “in the very best, most beautiful lights in the universe,” according to the Cosmic Connections Cruise brochure.
That seemed hyperbolic to Ellix, not to mention shortsighted. Which was saying something considering he only had the one eye. But for those seeking an enduring, effective union, wouldn’t it be more revealing to see each other in theworstlight?
“Ship is secured and ready for launch,” Delphine reported.
“Secure and ready,” Suvan echoed from the engineer chamber. “Except for the wrong taste.”
Ellix grimaced. “Acknowledged.” With deliberate control, he retracted his claws and toggled the seat controls. “And…launched.”
More delighted exclamations came through the monitors from the Starlit Salon as the ship rotated slowly toward the first moon. Though he had no reason to wonder, Ellix tightened the angle of the salon monitors on his wrist datpad. With a flick, he focused in on Felicity. She was facing the viewport, her Earther blue eyes huge and shining.
Abruptly, he stood, grunting as the chair pinched him. He transferred control to his datpad. “I’ll be back.”
Delphine glanced at him curiously but gestured her acknowledgment.
Ellix stalked down the empty corridor toward the Starlit Salon.
+ + +
The evening was off to a wonderful start. Styr’s food was fabulous especially considering the Elnd chef couldn’t actually taste any of it, and Ikaryo’s tasty drinks were flowing—or frothing or frozen, depending. Conversations were also flowing, and all feelings buttons were glowing bright. Felicity was delighted. There would be excellent reviews of this inaugural cruise.
So when the cheerful noise level in the salon abruptly faltered, she cut off her datpad reply to Griiek who had sent her a question about the hallway lighting and the dating game tokens she’d hidden around the ship. She turned to find Captain Never-Smiles not smiling at the gathered guests.
Gritting her teeth, she hustled over to him. “Smile,” she hissed through still gritted teeth.
From his towering, glowering advantage, he looked down at her. “Kufzasin don’t have smiling.”
“Well, it goes like this.” She bared her teeth wider.
He tilted his head. “Even for an Earther, it looks as if you may bite.”
Oh, if only he knew.
With supremely casual nonchalance, she crossed one arm over her chest to tap her chin with exaggerated contemplation—while also covering up her feelings button. Because shedidn’t actuallywant him to know anything. “So if you aren’t here to enjoy the party—”
“You asked me to say a few words.”
She curled her lips inward for a moment. “Are you going to say happy, friendly words or…”
“If you demand.”
Her heart skittered. She wasn’t part of the command crew to suggest, much less demand, when it came to ship’s orders, but Mr. Evens had made clear that the success of the venture was very much reliant on her expertise and efforts. And if maybe she’d had a minor panic attack or two prior to her arrival on the Love Boat I tonight, nobody needed to know that—especially not its mighty captain.
She lifted her chin—she had to lift it really high—to stare at him. “Fine. I demand.”
