Ignite by Tana Stone
Chapter Two
Zoey
I tapped the device hooked around my ear and waited for the energy helmet to surround the top of my head. Getting used to wearing a helmet made of energy instead of a regular hard hat had taken some adjustment, but now it was tough to recall a time I’d worn the rudimentary plastic hats around build sites.
Once the energy field hummed snugly on top of my pixie cut, I strode across the suspended bridge that bisected the station’s open-air atrium, pausing when I reached the center and peering down. The pounding and buzzing of the ongoing construction drifted up from below, muffled slightly by the distance, as the station was over thirty stories high. I’d been working on the space station for months, but the central atrium, with its transparent inclinator shafts swirling through the air and the clear walls that gave a perfect view into the blackness of space, was my biggest challenge.
The other Drexian space station—The Love Boat, or Boat for short—also had an open-air atrium but theirs didn’t feature a holographic waterfall cascading down one side. Technically ours didn’t either, but I was about to change all that.
“You beat me here!”
I turned at the sound of my friend Nina approaching. Like me, she was human. Unlike me, she wore her dark hair in a mass of untamed curls that fell around her shoulders and chose clothing as spectacular and exuberant as her hair. Her skin wasn’t as brown as mine, but it was tan, thanks to her Puerto Rican heritage. Today, she had on bright-red pants that hugged her ample curves and a paisley-patterned top that was slightly sheer. I instinctively glanced at my own muddy-green cargo pants and black T-shirt, which was a variation of the same outfit I wore every day. Like my hair, it was a functional and fuss-free choice.
“I was just checking it out,” I told my friend, who was also one of the station’s holographic designers. “I think the space works with what you and Serge were thinking.”
Nina bit her bottom lip and peered over the top of her glasses. “And it isn’t too much to add it this late in the game?”
“I already ran it up the chain of command.” I waved away her concern, even though it was late in the construction to add a major design element. I also didn’t mention that I’d skipped one tiny part of the chain of command because I knew the acting captain of the station would fight me on it, just like he fought me over everything.
Captain Kalex was a pain in the ass I didn’t want to think about now. Besides, he’d had nothing to do with my decision, even if I might have secretly enjoyed subverting his authority.
Nina eyed me with some amount of suspicion as I handed her an ear cuff, and she put it on and activated her energy helmet. “You’re sure the captain is cool with it? I get the idea he might lose his shit if there are more delays.”
I pulled a tablet from my crossbody bag and tapped the screen until the new atrium schematics appeared. “You and Serge made a convincing argument that it will enhance the beauty of the space and make it more appealing for humans.” I might not ever be one of the tribute brides who were volunteering by the droves to come to space and be matched with a hot Drexian warrior, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t insensitive to what they might enjoy. If women were going to be spending considerable time on the station, it should be as appealing as possible. It was my job as an architect to meld that appealing form with function.
She nodded. “Being in space might make them feel deprived of natural elements. And you know Serge loves making the station as authentic to Earth as possible.”
“As long as he stops with the cheesy, vintage-TV references.”
Nina laughed. “Impossible. Serge is nothing but cheesy, Earth pop culture and hysterics held together by platform shoes and big hair.”
That did just about sum up the little Gatazoid, who was on loan from the Boat, together with his associate, Reina. They were serving as liaisons to ensure that the Island had the same general feel as the Boat, but with upgraded bells and whistles.
I smiled at my friend. “You have a point.”
She looped her arm through mine. “You’ve told me you love to meld beauty and function in your design. Now you get to do it on your first astro-architecture project.”
My belly did a nervous flop when I thought about the fact that this was my first job as an architect in space. Hell, before the Drexians had revealed themselves as protectors of our planets—who happened to need brides—there hadn’t even been the job of astro-architect. “I think you mean the first ever astro-architecture project. At least for someone from Earth.”
She nudged me. “And a woman. Talk about a big first.”
“And a woman of color,” I reminded her. “Not to mention you’re only the second Latina holographic designer.”
Nina winked at me. “Brown girls aren’t doing too bad up here in space.”
I grinned. “But I’m not the only big first since The Reveal.”
“You’re not kidding.” Nina held up her fingers and started counting off. “We finally had confirmation that aliens were real. Big shock—they aren’t little green guys. They’re scaly, gray monsters who wanted to destroy us.”
“And a second race who’d been protecting us from the Kronock for decades.”
Nina winked at me. “Big surprise numero tres—the Drexians are big, hunky guys who need human mates to continue their species.”
“Correction,” I said. “They’ve been taking women from Earth for years to continue their species. We just didn’t know about it.”
Nina blew out a breath. “Don’t ask me why they didn’t just tell the world decades earlier and save themselves a lot of sneaking around. It’s not like they’ve had any trouble getting tribute brides.”
The new treaty between the Drexians and Earth not only provided voluntary brides, but military and civilian support for the defenses the Drexians provided for us—and the facilities for the rapidly expanding tribute bride program.
“Probably because there were a lot of old men in charge of the Earth governments at the time,” I said.
Nina shook her head and readjusted her glasses. “They must have been blind old men, because anyone with eyes can see that the Drexians are gorgeous badasses with enormous—“
“Cocktails cannot be served in the hangar bay.” Serge’s voice cut across the sounds of hammering and welding as he and Reina walked out onto the bridge to join us. “The space is too utilitarian, even for a welcome drink. We’ll do welcome cocktails in the atrium after the women have recovered from their trip in stasis.”
“Perhaps you’re right.” Reina fluttered a bony hand at her long neck, her blue swish of hair bobbling as she hurried to keep up with the Gatzoid wedding planner. “Stasis isn’t the easiest thing for everyone. Cocktails might be too much upon arrival.”
“Besides, the atrium has a bigger wow factor. Or at least it will.” Serge clomped over to us in shiny, orange platform boots, his canary-yellow suit with wide lapels giving the overall effect of staring at the inside of an egg. If the egg had spiky, purple hair and was four feet tall.
“Hello, Zoey. Hello, Nina.” Reina’s voice warbled, but I knew that was more of a characteristic of the Vexling than an indication she was nervous. Not that I discounted Serge’s ability to make anyone nervous, but they’d worked side-by-side for years, and Reina seemed to take his frequent histrionics in stride.
I passed out metal ear cuffs, waiting for the two aliens to activate their energy helmets. Luckily—or unluckily—the helmets didn’t muffle sound or hearing, so I’d get to hear every word of Reina and Serge’s debate, helmet or not.
“Already planning cocktails?” Nina raised an eyebrow. “My type of space station.”
Serge released an exasperated sigh. “Now that we’re nearing the end of the construction, Reina and I need to think about the new procedures for the arriving tribute brides.”
“Should we even call them tribute brides?” Reina asked, her pale face pinched and her large eyes wide. “They aren’t tribute from Earth anymore. The new brides will be volunteers.”
Serge tapped one of his platform boots on the bridge, and the staccato sound reverberated loudly. “We can’t change everything, Reina. They’ve been tribute brides for over thirty years. It’s tradition.”
“At least we aren’t matching them like we used to,” Reina mumbled, shooting a side-eye look at Serge, whose hair started to turn pink at the roots.
“There was nothing wrong with the Dating Game,” Serge snapped. “At least not until Mandy came along and ruined it.”
I exchanged a look with Nina. “Isn’t Mandy one of the tribute brides who pushed for The Reveal? Isn’t she married to some Drexian big shot?”
Serge gave me an approving look. “Seems like someone brushed up on their tribute bride history. Yes, she’s the wife of High Commander Dorn, but only by the grace of Serge. Trust me, that one was not easy.”
Reina giggled. “But she’s always been one of my favorites.”
Serge shot her a look.
“Not that we have favorites,” she added quickly.
“Be that as it may.” Serge cleared his throat. “We had to revamp our entire matching program after Mandy, and it’s become even more sophisticated now. Your human swiping has nothing on our tribute bride software.”
“I believe you,” Nina said. “So far, Drexian technology has blown my socks off. My cousin told me it was incredible, but even she downplayed it.”
“That’s right.” Reina clapped her hands. “You’re related to Ella. Such a lovely tribute bride.”
Serge wagged a finger at his colleague. “Technically not a tribute. Our first reject bride who turned tribute.”
Reina ignored him. “I’m so glad we won’t have a section for tributes who rejected their matches on the Island. I never liked that division on the Boat, although I respected the women’s right not to take a Drexian mate.”
“Here it will be all willing lambs to slaughter,” I said under my breath. Serge and Reina didn’t hear me, but Nina gave me a curious glance.
I averted my eyes and reminded myself to cool it with the snarky comments. Even a half-assed therapist would say that I used my snark to hide my pain, but it was impossible to keep the bitterness from seeping through the smart-ass comments.
I’d made sure that no one at my new job knew about my past, and I wanted to keep it that way. Nobody needed to know, and it only made people act weird around me. I hated being the woman whose fiancé had died in combat almost as much as I despised the pitying looks I got. People meant well, but their sympathy only reminded me that I’d never be anyone’s bride, tribute or not.
“Do you, Zoey?”
I jerked my head up when I realized Serge had asked me a question. “I do,” I said, hoping I hadn’t just promised to perform an interpretative dance at the station’s christening.
“Good.” Serge beamed at me. “As long as we’re a go on the waterfall.”
“The holographic design is no problem,” Nina told him. “I’ve been working with Vekron on improving holographic water, and I’m pretty sure we can make it look and feel like genuine water.”
“That Vekron is so clever,” Reina said, reaching for Nina’s hand and squeezing it. “As are you, dear.”
“Yes, yes.” Serge sighed. “Everyone is exceedingly clever. Now that we’ve settled the issue of the waterfall, can we talk about the changes to the fantasy suites?”
“Changes?” Nina and I said in unison.
“Only small ones,” Reina said. “We got some feedback from the tribute brides at the Boat. They’ve been living in fantasy suites and have some ideas that would make them more functional.”
I bit back a groan. This was the problem with too many cooks in the kitchen. I was already pushing my luck by adding more scope to the atrium construction. If I went back and redesigned the fantasy suites—even if it was only holographic work—the station opening would be delayed. I might not care about the acting captain’s eagerness to finish the project, but if I added more changes, he might truly strangle me. And I did care about making it back to Earth alive.
“Any changes to the suite design should have been submitted earlier,” I said, keeping my voice even keeled, despite my urge to shriek. “There’s no way I’ll get approval for more changes this late in the process.”
“I told you,” Reina said in a sing-song voice, with a pointed glance at Serge.
He huffed out a loud breath and put his hands on his hips. “It’s not only me who thinks the fantasy suites could use a little love.”
“Then who is it?” Nina asked. “I’m with Zoey. Redesigning the holographic suites means a huge amount of coding. Even if Vekron and the other holographic designers pulled overtime with me, we’d have to push back the finish date. I know we’re getting the first tribute bride arrivals soon. Where should we put them if the suites aren’t ready?”
“I don’t suppose you’d like them to stay in the warriors’ quarters while we make all the changes?” I suggested, giving Serge a sweet smile.
“Military barracks for my tributes?” He sucked in a breath and pressed a hand to his neck. “Bite your tongue, sugar.”
Nina gave me another look, and it was obvious she was fighting the urge to burst out laughing.
“Serge does love his Earth expressions,” Reina explained with a giggle. “And his Southern brides.”
“That explains it,” Nina said.
“Here’s another Earth expression,” I said. “You can’t have your cake and eat it too.”
Serge’s hair was entirely hot pink now, and he gaped at me. “Is this your way of telling me we didn’t score the Australian wedding cake designer?”
“This is my way of telling you we can’t push the project back and be ready for the brides.”
Serge held up a finger as he fished a trilling device from his jacket pocket. “Hold on. You can explain everything to the High Commander’s wife.” He answered the sub-space transmission. “Mandy, doll? Is that you?”
“Hey, Serge!” A bubbly voice crackled from the device as Serge held the screen up so everyone could see the brunette’s face. “I wanted to call you before the baby woke up.”
Serge crinkled his nose. “Does that little terrorist still insist on keeping you up half the night?” He squinted at the screen. “Honey, are those bags under your eyes or did you get in a brawl?”
Mandy laughed. “He’s not a terrorist. He’s a newborn, but yes, he’s still waking up every four hours.”
“No, thank you,” Serge whispered from the side of his mouth.
Despite Serge’s horror at Mandy’s exhausted maternal state, I couldn’t help but feel a pang of longing for what could have been. If my fiancé hadn’t died, and we’d started a family liked we’d talked about, then maybe I’d have a newborn and dark circles under my eyes, too. I gave my head a hard shake to dislodge the thought. Regret did nothing but make me miserable. I needed to do what I’d always done. Focus on work and forget about what I’d lost—or what could have been.
“You must be Zoey and Nina,” Mandy said. “Serge has talked about both of you a lot.”
I smiled at the woman, drawn in by her friendliness and the fact that she looked like she cared less about style in her stained, white T-shirt and yoga pants than I did.
“I hope Serge isn’t driving you two crazy,” Mandy said in a stage whisper obviously meant for his ears.
He gasped and flipped the screen back to face him. “When have I ever driven anyone crazy?”
When Mandy began to recite a list of names, Serge emitted a gasp of horror. “A genius is never appreciated in his time.”
“The genius mentioned you have some suggestions about the fantasy suites,” I cut in before the conversation devolved any further.
Before Mandy could tell me her ideas, thundering footsteps made us all glance up.
Captain Kalex was marching toward us in his dark uniform, his eyes fixed on me and blazing with fury.