Opalina Outpost

Chapter 3: The Other Corner

Lio shimmied his hips, trying to wiggle into obscenely tight leather pants. He hopped up and down on the dais in his closet, the folding mirrors adjusting to keep up with his movement. Hungover and trapped by the shins in what appeared to be a leather wetsuit was not the way he wanted to start this morning. Or afternoon. Whatever it was. Surrendering, he kicked his way free of the slick material and sent the pants flying across the closet. A butler bot snagged them midair and folded them neatly, shuttling them into a waiting drawer.

Appealing as his ass looked in leather, it was the wrong for Starmesa. Too hot, and not in a good way. He didn't exactly thrill at the thought of flopping out of the damn things in front of someone else, or trying to smash back into them the morning after to make a quick getaway. Highly impractical. At least he'd realized before he had to slip out someone's bedroom window.

Yawning, he snapped his fingers for his travel outfit. The trip back to the Fennec region gave him more than enough time to decide what he was wearing to Starmesa later. The butler bot dropped a tunic over his head and he stepped into a billowy pair of pants before stumbling out of the closet and past his bed, into the attached sun-room.

The same palms and tropical flowers that he had planted as a child basked in the early afternoon sunlight, mist filtering among blossoms and broad leaves that towered over the lounging chairs. It was all so much bigger than he remembered. He'd only been in the confines of his tiny room at Opalina for eight months, and already the rooms where he had spent his childhood felt unfamiliar, recognizable but too expansive to be comfortable.

His plan of sleeping in had worked. Alright, so it wasn't exactly a plan, and he was currently supposed to be on the train back. But having overslept meant that most of his family was gone already, run off to command the universe or whatever their latest projects were, and he had escaped a continuation of the dreadful conversations from the party last night. Lio had been very near to dumping the punch bowl over his brother's head if he heard the phrase "consider your future" one more time. He hummed his way downstairs and followed the smell of fresh breakfast onto the eastern porch.

A delightful spread awaited him, tamales, plantains, a fried egg that looked like a jewel, nutty tea calling his name—

"Finally out of bed."

Lio squawked and whipped away from the table to see Alina emerge from behind a pillar like a very stylish assassin. "I was beginning to worry you'd died up there," she said.

First Goddess damn her and her lurking. He swiped his hair out of the way to dispel his nerves, and brandished a teaspoon. "Shouldn't you be off running a shipping empire?"

"I'm working from here for the day. Mamina and I need to discuss—" She waved a hand, polished nails catching the light. "But you're not interested in that. I wanted to talk to you."

"Oh." He levered a bit of everything onto his plate and backed away from the table. "Well, the thing is, I'm already running behind, and I really can't get another write-up for returning late from dispensation."

Alina crossed her arms. "Lio, this is getting out of hand, and you know it. You can't stay at that little scrap-yard outpost forever."

"Mamina promised me at least a year." He hated that it sounded petulant, almost whiny. Twenty-four years old, and the mere sight of his older sister reverted him back by at least ten years. He shifted back onto his heel, easing another step to the door.

"It's practically been a year already."

"No, it hasn't." Eight months very nearly was a year but disagreeing with Alina was his tradition. He was the high priest of arguments that need not exist, and his sister the ritual sacrifice. Another slinking step backward. The doorway had to be close now.