Heart Quest by Robin D. Owens

Contact T’Ash about making one. He’ll let you know what he needs for it. Now I must go to Mid-Class HealingHall.” He nodded to the public carrier pulling up. “That’s your glider to work, isn’t it?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œBetter go,” he told her and before she could reply, he teleported away, leaving her feeling small and wishing he’d offered to ’port her to work.
    She spent the whole morning unhappy that she’d disappointed him and trying to convince herself that his feelings didn’t matter. But they did. Somehow, in the space of a couple of days, he’d become a friend. That happened to her often, so it wasn’t too unique—except he was a handsome, sophisticated, much older man.
    Trif put away the two-dimensional worksheets she used, and set out several spheres that everyone else in the office employed to image the furniture and place it in various surroundings. “About time,” said one of her cuzes.
    â€œI thought this might help me learn to ’port. I haven’t been thinking in three dimensions.”
    The woman held the ball, made a small change, and the desk looked better situated in the model den. She handed the globe back to Trif. “Couldn’t hurt.” She tapped the sphere. “The orb has inbuilt Flair, and I only use what’s there. You have considerable Flair of your own. Maybe it clashes. And if it does, you’d better learn to use it.”
    â€œYes,” Trif said, and called up a bedroom, envisioning the new Clover Fine Furnishings suite inside it. The activity made her head hurt. A small mew preceded a tiny nip at her finger. “Greyku?”
    Are you getting a tinter for me? I am all white . She stared at the model bedroom in the globe, bold with primary colors. White is SO bo-ring .
    â€œYou’re sure you don’t want to be white?”
    I’m sure. I think I might want to be magenta. Or sapphire. Or emerald. Or golden. Or magenta and sapphire and emerald and golden, with silver whiskers . “Yesssss!”
    Something else Trif couldn’t imagine. “Very well.”
    During lunch, Trif nerved herself to scry the only artist she knew—Citrula, who lived in an artist colony on Mona Island. They had been adversaries, but the last time they’d met, they’d parted on relatively civil terms.
    To Trif ’s surprise, Citrula looked relaxed and fulfilled. “What can I do for you?”
    Trif held Greyku above the large office scrybowl. “This is my Fam, Greyku. She wants to be tinted.”
    At Citrula’s surprise, Trif gave a little cough. “The Ship states that ancient Earth cats were tinted for centuries.”
    Citrula appeared intrigued. “I think one of our community is experimenting with nano-art and in contact with the Ship. I’ll ask it for vizes.”
    Greyku scowled down at the close water and issued a series of meows. Trif translated. “She likes the idea of jewel tones, being a—ahem—multicolored kitty.”
    Citrula raised her brows. “A challenge.” She eyed the kitten, who was stiff and with claws extended over the large watery scrybowl. “Will she sit still for the work?”
    â€œYessssss,” hissed Greyku. Put Me aside now. The artist has seen enough .
    Trif did as she was told.
    â€œI think we’ll do her in layers,” Citrula said.
    â€œLayers?”
    â€œA cat has many-layered fur. We might be able to accommodate her taste and my vision.”
    They’d better. Trif coughed, struggling with amusement again. “My primary concern is that Greyku is happy.”
    â€œIf you want this done for a reasonable rate, you’ll let me have my way.” That was a issue too. Especially since Trif was paying T’Ash for an amulet. Even at cost, the jewelry was going to stretch her budget.
    Laughing, Citrula said, “Let the kitten pay me.”
    How? Trif stared at Greyku.