Serendipity (Book 1 of the Dana Halliday series)

NEBENNA VICCA OMPOS. CROSS-STARRED LOVERS. DAMNED IDEAS.

I awoke to Novi's computer telling us we were all about to die, or at least that's what its Prechoru sounded like. In actuality, it was just warning that we were two hours out from Tirza 50. Flynt was still curled up against my side.

Novernyi muttered something in response as she drifted over us to her pilot's seat. She shook her head, her feathers bristling and then lying smooth again. Lonavat had said that the Bruttar slept in short stretches, but this was an exception, apparently.

"Are you both well?"

"Fine." I really did feel pretty good; sleeping weightless was amazing. Flynt made an affirmative sound. "You?"

"Best I've slept in days. Good thing, I need to be sharp for racing. Will you open a nutrient pack, please?"

Flynt obliged, taking one for himself, handing me another, and moving to the co-pilot's seat. He floated an inch or so over the seat, facing Novernyi, and passed her the pack. These were like big juice boxes. I couldn't read the words, and the flavor of the thick goo within was no clue; it sort of tasted like barium. I was hungry enough not to care.

"I didn't know the Morning of the Missing was based on a Bruttar holiday," Flynt said. "What does the race have to do with it?"

She scoffed a little. "Not much. The Morning of the Missing is to honor the deceased, yes?"

"So I'm told." Flynt seemed almost back to normal, if still a little giddy around the edges. "I had assumed it was their version of the Fallen Explorers' Day." He glanced back at me. "That's an Oploki celebration."

"It might seem so. But it's more like our Nebenna Vicca Ompos." Novi sipped her barium smoothie and stared out into literal space for a few moments. "The day the comet struck our homeworld. Racing has become a traditional part of the holiday."

"That seems kind of festive for an extinction event," I observed.

"Nebenna Vicca Ompos means 'once four, now one.' There is teamwork in racing. You'll see." She gave a harsh caw of a laugh. "The day we became one people, not four, yes?"

"E pluribus unum, sure. Holy silver lining, Bruttar."

Novernyi made a dismissive gesture. "In some ways. No war. Marriage between the races is okay now. If the male wants, of course."

"Of course." I wondered what the offspring of a red-scaled Hannosk and a tan Prechoru would look like—not to mention what they might be called—but it seemed like the sort of thing a Bruttar woman would find offensive.

"And if he has the right social status?" I asked instead. "Vatya sounded like he thought you were out of his league."

She cawed again, but not as harshly. "Lonavat deserves a devoted mate. He knows that is not...me."

"You lied to Kleathanna. About having a true marriage."

Novernyi looked straight back at me. "That woman, she is...helpless romantic. She sees us as...what is it? Cross-starred lovers?"

"Star-crossed," I snorted. "You've got to be kidding me, Novi. You met Gabriel. She's done something to that guy's head. He just ain't right. I mean, it wouldn't surprise me if he actually is a psychopathic idiot, so maybe she's doing the universe a favor by keeping him mostly under control, but still." I shuddered. "Creepy."

"Not important. She wanted to help me. Maybe she sees what she wants to have?" Novi stared pointedly at Flynt. "You need be careful, Fenn friend."

"Man, no kidding," I agreed. "Trying to smell like a sexy Fenn girl. I wonder what she's really like, when she isn't being Gratifying."

Flynt grinned. He seemed unfazed by the memory of Klea's faux pheromones. "I suspect she's exactly as she appears. I don't get any feeling of...what, duplicity? What I pick up from her doesn't clash with how she acts. My sense of the Cennetts isn't very nuanced, though."