The Pearl (Galactic Jewels Book 1) (2 page)

“I saw you.” The gravelly voice said over my shoulder. My tutor had a knack for the obvious since she’d walked straight into the climax of the sim. Of course she’d seen us. But I couldn’t exactly go after her for it without getting a demerit. I was too close to the end and my allowance for attitude credits was dwindling. There were a lot of things they’d been able to train out of me, but my fiery temperament hadn’t been one.

I blinked and pasted on my most serene smile before turning. I’d been a star student for the last decade but this was the final week before they christened me Pearl, Fransín as my designated cohort. Focusing on things I knew by rote was as stimulating as watching a Spiznwix grow new tentacles. I wanted to be out there on our own ship, the two of us headed out to our mission, doing all the exciting and universe-changing events a Pearl was destined for.

“We were just getting the sim set up for next week.” I rapidly typed commands into the unit still open to the spot in the lesson where Fransín had suggested the jump. I’d barely protested, wanting something, anything more exiting than learning about politics. Not that I wasn’t interested in politics, you couldn’t accept the position as pearl and not be devoted to a life of policies and galaxy affecting laws, but I wanted to be involved, not read about it.

“Since you girls are obviously not devoted to learning, you can spend all night researching the history of the Zyldish war and write me a seven-twelve policy on how you’d manage the details differently.

Yes!
Fransín’s foot bounced up and down in excitement and I bit my lip to keep from grinning so she wouldn’t rethink the punishment. This was the first time she’d given us a single task resembling actual pearl duties. We’d spent nearly our entire lives in school since the choosing and I would spend another three years as the Pearl discussing these matters with available candidates across the galaxies, but the time had finally come for our tutors to turn us loose.

If I was lucky, Fransín would write a sim to go along with the policy and we’d give it a test-run before turning it in.

C
HAPTER
2

T
WO
Y
EARS
, E
LEVEN
Months, and Twenty-seven Human Days Later

A hiss released the airlock, popping my ears. I adjusted to the harsh onslaught of sensory overload, noting each of the ship’s groans and whistles, allowing my brain to catalogue them spatially and reset my equilibrium. Steadied, I tossed my helmet and gloves onto the rounded metal bench that separated the transporter from the bridge. “That’s a
no
for the Spiznwix.” I shuddered, still feeling his clammy touch and fighting the urge to consider tonight a waste. Productive or not, I’d fulfilled the scheduled obligation.

Fransín laughed from her chair below the window overlooking the wide expanse of space beyond the ship, swiftly tapping a sequence into her console and putting us on autopilot. Blue lights flashed, confirming the command. Satisfied we wouldn’t spin away into an errant timegate, she spun and teased, “Come on, Lility, did you really think a guy with seven tentacles wouldn’t want to use a couple?” Her sing-song voice undermined her chastising. “I told you about the time I ran into that one in a bar off the Pai Galaxy.” She grimaced in a pale jumpsuit that accentuated her emerald hair and matching skin. “Are you going to report him?”

“No. I could, I guess, but he seemed harmless.” My nape tingled remembering the tips of his tentacles brushing my arm, my thigh, my fingers the entire time we’d talked. At first, I’d thought he was making a move, but by the end, it had been no more than a nervous tic. “Annoying, but not worth all the paperwork.” I tugged the pins from my intricate updo, freeing the purple-tinted tresses Fransín had dyed to match the Spiznwix’s flag. I scrubbed my fingertips against my scalp, sighing. “I don’t get it. He was nice. And smart. We talked for hours on the intercommunicator. His ideas for an intergalactic highway were fantastic and I’d wanted to hear more about how he’d configured the system to manage the differing time zones and air quality on each side of the time gate so traffic passed seamlessly. It was going to be a huge fix for the troubles they’re seeing between Carbin and Twilip.”

“You always were a sucker for the talkers.” Fransín teased, crossing one leg over the other, her boot swinging through the oxygenated air of our ship. Not only was she my consort, but my best friend and my constant companion since preschool. Good thing we were tight and I could take her teasing since we’d been on this ship for a Samarian moon—three human years. “Spiznwix, Twilip, Foley, Mercev...” She ticked her fingers, counting the galaxies sending this month’s candidates for the 642nd Union. “Not one of them has been as impressive as they portrayed.”

“Same tonight,” I said. “It was like he forgot how to interact once we shared airspace.” I stared across the glittering sky and touched my breastbone, my aching heart thumping beneath. It hurt for hours after the letdown of these presentations. I’d tried to lower my expectations, failing again tonight. “Because I’m human?” The question excused both the males’ odd behavior and my heartache, we hadn’t figured out either issue.

She tilted her head and softened her voice. “Face it, Lility, you’re a delicacy. These males haven’t had a chance to
meet
a human girl, let alone court—and potentially
marry—
one in an official union. What guy wouldn’t get a little nervous with all that on the line? Not to mention the stress of the Union alone.”
 

She studied me like she was seeing me for the first time. I was nothing extraordinary. I mean, last human, sure, but that was a relief not a highlight. I was dull looking, nothing like Fransín’s pretty green skin or our pilot’s luminescence, I was just… fleshy. My brunette hair didn’t stand out unless Fransín dyed it. My blue eyes didn’t shimmer like the night sky above Pwil, or glow like the sea on Foley, they were just… blue. Big butt, bigger boobs, lots of curves… but human curves that made me look like a boring old hourglass, not extra curves like a Tyrill.

Don’t get me wrong, I knew how to use my curves. A girl doesn’t spend a decade on Samaria without learning a skill or two. They’d said I was the best student they’d seen in ages—
destined
to be a Pearl. As the 642nd one, I’d given the compliment the weight it had deserved.

“And that brain,” Fransín said, feigning a swoon and lifting her wrist to her forehead. “You’re the trifecta of perfection.” She dropped her arm and grinned. “You’re a lot to handle, Girl. I’d be intimidated by you.”

“Shut up,” I teased. All the pearls were extraordinary, being human wasn’t special. “That’d be a first. No one intimidates you. It’s just… Different than it was in school.” After three years as the Pearl, I’d met, studied, and scrutinized all but one galaxy's presentations. I’d taken their offerings seriously, knowing they’d submitted their best, males culled from tens of thousands of candidates. Offering for the Pearl was a great honor, and my choice held weight that reverberated across the universe. Unions were serious universal business, and now that my final decision was pending, I’d received my first assignment. Whether I chose last month’s Hemperklu or tonight’s Spiznwix,
we’d team up to negotiate things like trade routes through the Pai Galaxy, whether or not to allow Mercers to obtain citizenship in the neighboring galaxy, and generate offspring that was the most elite group of beings to exist, so my choice was not a decision to take lightly. I needed a serious partner in this union, not a guy who got flustered across the table and couldn’t keep his hands off my hair.

I unclipped the buckle at my throat, ready to shed my uniform, a unique creation chosen specifically for the Spiznwix, made of a precise amount of a specific Gubun leather and adorned with buckles and hinges made from metal ored off their seventh moon. Nothing about these meetings was left to chance and I’d been looking forward to this one after the way we’d hit it off in all our previous interactions. We’d fizzled almost immediately in this first face-to-face. Not that it mattered, the Hemperklu was a great choice and we got along splendidly. Picking him didn’t bother me, I’d expected more viable options instead of accepting him by default.

“Nothing’s ever the same as school,” Fransín said. “You roleplayed with guys who’d trained in the artistry of dating, the artistry of seduction, of
course
they’re suave and impossible to best.” She gestured toward the space beyond our walls. “That Spiznwix wasn’t chosen because he rocked at dating. He—and all the other candidates—were sent because they’re the best at furthering science and trade and all the important things you’re in charge of solving now that you’re the Pearl. This is a
political
union, Lility, not a romantic one. How many times do we have to go over this?”

“I know.” I sighed. A passing ship streaked across the inky blackness beyond the window. I rubbed little circles above my heart, hoping to ease the ache. I could do this if I trusted my instincts, my training, my dedication. “My nerves are getting to me.”

“You only have one more. Can you handle it?” Fransín teased.

I straightened, grateful to have Fransín supporting me when my position of the pearl overwhelmed me. “You know it.” After tomorrow, I’d announce my final choice for the upcoming wedding and be on to the next stage of my life, one I’d been groomed for since the choosing over a decade ago.

But not tonight.

Tonight was our last free night and Fransín had planned every detail for days.

The bridge door
whooshed
open and our pilot came in to take his shift. “Ladies.” The Twilip inclined his head, the tops of his long pink dreadlocks brushing the ceiling, their silver-tipped ends tinkling together. At eight feet tall, M’s slender body and three pair of gangly arms were perfectly designed for endless hours at the consoles. His nearly translucent skin glowed bright enough that the overhead lights detected
him as a light source and flickered out, casting the room in his subtle illumination.

He’d be here until morning watching for errant asteroids and unmanned satellites. In all the time we’d been up here, he hadn’t had to make a single adjustment, our route planned in on the very first day to account for all the space activity and possible collisions. The long days and longer nights of no action would have driven me batty
, but he said he loved the meditative state he accomplished, watching space whiz past. I was too fidgety and easily distracted. Thank goodness for he and Fransín, or I’d never have made my way across the cosmos like I was supposed to. We made a good team.

Fransín gave M a rundown of the day’s events and possible collision courses on the way to my next and final location. He took the chair. “Do have a splendid evening.”

“Night!” She looped her arm through mine and we headed to our room to change.

C
HAPTER
3

W
E
HURRIED
OUT
the main door and onto a curving, sloping walkway, giant silver tubes that encircled the entire ship. “What’d you design for us?” I asked. Fransín’s famed simulations had grown to urban legend status as she’d completed design requests for ships throughout the galactic underground. Her ability to hack the regulation sims was one reason M had her running the bridge when he needed a break and she had plenty of downtime to help him with the presentations coming to an end.

I might tease her about the sims, but in truth, I enjoyed them. A lot. They gave us interactions I craved beyond our tiny trio and my
plus one
during the bi-weekly presentations. And they also reminded me of all the ones she’d created during our schooling which made me less homesick. While I’d been ecstatic about finally getting to be the pearl, I hadn’t been prepared for how alone we’d be after spending a lifetime surrounded by hordes of Samarians and Bevis during school and I still hadn’t adjusted.

She’d hinted about tonight for a week now, finally giving up a big one this morning as a tiny birthday gift. We were going dancing, but she hadn’t said where or with who or any other details about the big party.

We turned left in the wide hallway, our footfalls silent on the rubberized path. “You’ll see.” She bumped my shoulder with hers and quickened the pace, breaking into an eager run and dragging me along.

“Should I be scared?” The first time she’d designed a sim back in training, there had been unexpected… glitches. I still had a scar on my inner thigh. If she’d spent a ton of time on tonight’s, she’d hopefully designed the
right
parts and no untested scenarios. I didn’t have time to heal before the wedding.

Laughing, we raced along the empty halls. Forty feet from our door, I hip-checked her and took off. “Last one there has to clean the sim room tomorrow morning!”

She squealed, bouncing off the wall and running up the other side, leaning into the manufactured gravity of the ship that didn’t quite mimic Earth’s, giving her an edge, since it was the exact makeup of her planet’s.

“Jerk.” I laughed and pumped my legs.

She ran perpendicular to me, her body parallel to the floor, our heads nearly touching. Strands of her green-gray hair came loose and tangled with my glossy violet ones.

My breath came fast and she inched ahead of me. We neared the door and I leaned forward, straining to finish first. My legs burned with the exertion but I would not quit. She dove for the door, pushing off the wall and catapulting herself through the air and into our bedroom. She tumbled and rolled across my path and I had to cut right to keep from mowing her down. I laughed and tripped as I leapt her rolling, spinning green body. “You’re such a cheater.”