speech with a charming smile, as if she should receive his proposition as the ultimate compliment.
Kelly slumped in her chair for a moment, then she pushed back from the table and rose to her feet. “I really don’t have anything else to say to you Sangrid. Thank you for the wine.”
“Wait, wait,” he objected frantically, reaching across the table and grabbing her wrist. “Just hear me out. If it’s pregnancy that scares you, we could arrange for a host mother. I would pay you for your eggs.”
She regarded him in horror, made more acute by the dawning fear that Eemas had set her up with this guy because their profiles matched. Sangrid mistook her momentary paralysis for second thoughts, and continued with his pitch.
“I can’t offer top dollar of course. You’ll have to admit you’re a couple years past prime for egg harvesting, but I guarantee it will be worth your while,” he pleaded.
Kelly jerked her wrist away, fixed him with a fierce stare, then grabbed the roses and rushed blindly from the restaurant. From aliens, to bride-stealers, to this jerk. Was it possible that her options were really this bad? Finding her way to the main drag of the Little Apple, she spotted Blythe working the outside tables of a café.
“Flowers for the lady, sir,” she heard Blythe’s practiced patter. “Buy a flower from a poor girl, Missus.” Kelly caught her eye and motioned her to come over.
“How’s business?” Kelly asked the girl, unable to suppress a grin at the begrimed face and the shabby dress.
“Great, Aunty Kelly,” Blythe answered. “I’ve only got these left, and Chastity ran out a while ago. It’s a big date night.”
“Do you want to buy these?” Kelly proffered the dozen roses she’d received from Sangrid.
Blythe bit her lower lip, and then glancing around as if she was worried somebody could be paying attention, she led Kelly into the doorway of a clothing store that was closed for the evening.
“We don’t really accept returns, Aunty Kelly, but since it’s you, I could go 10 centees,” she offered. “That’s almost what we pay the wholesaler for new, and yours are used.”
“You really are good at this, aren’t you?” Kelly grimaced and handed over the roses. “Are you girls saving up for anything special?”
“Can you keep a secret?” Blythe whispered, her eyes shiny with excitement.
“That depends, Blythe. If I thought you were going to do something that impacted your family, I guess I’d have to tell your mother.”
“Well, never mind then,” Blythe replied shortly. “If you’ll excuse me, I have flowers to sell.”
“Hey, what about my 10 centees?” Kelly protested.
“Oh, see Chastity about that. She handles the accounts payable,” Blythe replied matter-of-factly before starting back in on her pitch. “Fresh roses, 25 centees a dozen.”
Kelly started after her, then turned and headed off in the other direction, towards the Burger Bar. She had just enough money to treat herself to a normal dinner, one without voyeuristic plasma creatures watching her chew. It was probably bad for karma to sell date flowers in any case, no matter how rotten the date.
Eleven
Joe dispensed with the silver suit for his second Eemas date in the theory that it had brought him bad luck. Instead he wore an old dress uniform with all the identifying marks removed. The buttons were a little tight across his gut, but sorting through metal scrap helped keep him in shape, especially since mass doesn’t disappear with weight in lower gravity and his tendency was to just lift more. Chasing Beowulf around the scrap yard to get back his gloves helped also, though he couldn’t get over the feeling that the dog was exercising him like a four-legged drill sergeant.
The date was at Camelot, a medieval-themed hotel casino that was primarily popular with humanoid species who favored edged weapons. Most sentient beings who retained personal weaponry ended up eschewing the advanced
Kelly slumped in her chair for a moment, then she pushed back from the table and rose to her feet. “I really don’t have anything else to say to you Sangrid. Thank you for the wine.”
“Wait, wait,” he objected frantically, reaching across the table and grabbing her wrist. “Just hear me out. If it’s pregnancy that scares you, we could arrange for a host mother. I would pay you for your eggs.”
She regarded him in horror, made more acute by the dawning fear that Eemas had set her up with this guy because their profiles matched. Sangrid mistook her momentary paralysis for second thoughts, and continued with his pitch.
“I can’t offer top dollar of course. You’ll have to admit you’re a couple years past prime for egg harvesting, but I guarantee it will be worth your while,” he pleaded.
Kelly jerked her wrist away, fixed him with a fierce stare, then grabbed the roses and rushed blindly from the restaurant. From aliens, to bride-stealers, to this jerk. Was it possible that her options were really this bad? Finding her way to the main drag of the Little Apple, she spotted Blythe working the outside tables of a café.
“Flowers for the lady, sir,” she heard Blythe’s practiced patter. “Buy a flower from a poor girl, Missus.” Kelly caught her eye and motioned her to come over.
“How’s business?” Kelly asked the girl, unable to suppress a grin at the begrimed face and the shabby dress.
“Great, Aunty Kelly,” Blythe answered. “I’ve only got these left, and Chastity ran out a while ago. It’s a big date night.”
“Do you want to buy these?” Kelly proffered the dozen roses she’d received from Sangrid.
Blythe bit her lower lip, and then glancing around as if she was worried somebody could be paying attention, she led Kelly into the doorway of a clothing store that was closed for the evening.
“We don’t really accept returns, Aunty Kelly, but since it’s you, I could go 10 centees,” she offered. “That’s almost what we pay the wholesaler for new, and yours are used.”
“You really are good at this, aren’t you?” Kelly grimaced and handed over the roses. “Are you girls saving up for anything special?”
“Can you keep a secret?” Blythe whispered, her eyes shiny with excitement.
“That depends, Blythe. If I thought you were going to do something that impacted your family, I guess I’d have to tell your mother.”
“Well, never mind then,” Blythe replied shortly. “If you’ll excuse me, I have flowers to sell.”
“Hey, what about my 10 centees?” Kelly protested.
“Oh, see Chastity about that. She handles the accounts payable,” Blythe replied matter-of-factly before starting back in on her pitch. “Fresh roses, 25 centees a dozen.”
Kelly started after her, then turned and headed off in the other direction, towards the Burger Bar. She had just enough money to treat herself to a normal dinner, one without voyeuristic plasma creatures watching her chew. It was probably bad for karma to sell date flowers in any case, no matter how rotten the date.
Eleven
Joe dispensed with the silver suit for his second Eemas date in the theory that it had brought him bad luck. Instead he wore an old dress uniform with all the identifying marks removed. The buttons were a little tight across his gut, but sorting through metal scrap helped keep him in shape, especially since mass doesn’t disappear with weight in lower gravity and his tendency was to just lift more. Chasing Beowulf around the scrap yard to get back his gloves helped also, though he couldn’t get over the feeling that the dog was exercising him like a four-legged drill sergeant.
The date was at Camelot, a medieval-themed hotel casino that was primarily popular with humanoid species who favored edged weapons. Most sentient beings who retained personal weaponry ended up eschewing the advanced
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