Mutant Star by Karen Haber

ruddy-faced man greeted her jovially. “Eva? Bus Farnam.”
    “What can I do for you?”
    “I’ve got a friend coming into town who’s heard about your program.”
    “From whom?
    “Well, from me.”
    “I thought so.” She frowned.
    Farnam’s smile faltered but he plowed on bravely. “Anyway, he wants to meet you—”
    “And take a tour? Sorry, this isn’t a theme park, Bus.”
    “Eva, he’s pretty important.”
    “To you, obviously.”
    “Well, he might be important to you, too. I hear Dalheim’s giving you heat.”
    “No secret there. Who is this visitor, Bus?”
    “Ethan Hawkins.”
    “Who?”
    Farnam’s face turned red. “Colonel Ethan Hawkins. Don’t you watch your history tapes? Jesus, what did they teach you kids in school? He lost an arm on Marsbase …”
    “Right.” Eva turned away from the screen and rolled her eyes at Julian. “Got him now, Bus. He’s an old colleague of yours, isn’t he? And he wants to see the Flare Program?”
    “Eva, he’s got connections with a capital ‘C.’ And money.”
    “I’m starting to like him.”
    “He asked to meet you.”
    “Tell you what, Bus. Invite Dr. Dalheim to the party and I’ll say yes.”
    Farnam gave her a sly look. “Clever. You’ll wave Hawkins and his interest in the program at Dalheim. I like your spirit. Okay, I’ll set it up. Tomorrow.” His image faded.
    “Is this such a good idea, boss lady?” Julian asked.
    “Who knows?” Eva waved her hands in exasperation. “It’s worth a try.”
    “I agree with Farnam.”
    “How so?”
    “I like your spirit.” Julian took a step closer and closed the gap between them. Took her hand in his. “And I like you, Eva. But I’m not much good at playing games.” He took a deep breath. “Have dinner with me tonight?”
    Her eyebrows shot upward. For a moment, she said nothing. But she didn’t pull her hand away, either. Her eyes began to twinkle. “That sounds lovely, Julian. What time?”
    ***
    The screenphone rang insistently. Narlydda ignored it, intent on her painting. On the third ring, the simulacrum, Anne Verland, caught it.
    “You have reached the phone of …”
    “Mom?” Alanna’s voice overrode the simulacrum’s. “Mom, answer the phone. Mom, are you home?”
    “I’m sorry,” Anne Verland said smoothly. “Your call cannot be answered at this time …”
    Narlydda dropped her brush. “Thank you, Anne. I’ll take it.” She glared into the screen. “Where have you been? Where are you? I’ve had the police looking for you!”
    “Look, I’m sorry.” Alanna chewed her lower lip. “I was with Rick.”
    “I thought so. Alanna, how can you be so irresponsible? Your father and I have been frantic. Not to mention that I was expecting your help with the ‘Marsdrop’ piece. You’ve picked a hell of a time to run away from home.”
    “Rick’s number isn’t exactly unlisted. And I didn’t run away.”
    “No?” Narlydda gave a short laugh. “What do you call walking out of dinner and never coming back? My God, the way your father carried on I thought I’d have to give him a neural damper.”
    “Is Daddy all right?”
    “He’s fine. At least as fine as can be expected. Until I tell him where you are.”
    “Wait. Don’t tell him.”
    “You must be joking.” Narlydda stared at her daughter.
    “I’ll come and tell him. I want to talk to both of you.”
    “In person?”
    “Yes. This afternoon. Is that all right?”
    “Of course, Alanna. Just get back here. And soon.”
    “I will.” The screen went dark.
    Narlydda shook her head. That girl was impossible. As soon as she got home there’d be fireworks. She bent down and retrieved her brush, scrubbing at the blue stain on the floor with some turpentine.
    What fireworks?
    “I thought you were at the foundry.”
    I was. Note the past tense . Skerry sauntered into the room. “You still haven’t answered my question. What fireworks?”
    “Alanna called.”
    “About time, dammit.