Feel the thunder as storms draw summer to a close. I have some exciting updates for you.
NEWS
Hello Explorers! August’s end is here, and it feels like just yesterday that summer began here in the northern hemisphere. I celebrated turning 35 at the beginning of the month and am excited to see what this next turn about the sun brings. Though I won’t meet the tentative September release I’d hoped for with Emissaries, I'm excited to share that I only have a few scenes left to polish before it’s off to the editor!
And, to celebrate hitting the 80K word milestone, you can check out this sneak peek scene below!
CHAPTER FIVE
A knock came the next evening, as Nel was cleaning up after super. The kitchenette was similar enough to the one on Recursive that she managed not to burn too much. She wiped her hands and headed through the foyer. Emilio offered a small wave when she opened the door.
“Oh, hey,” she offered, nerves spiking up her back. They had barely spoken since the heated conversation over Dar’s unconscious body. Certainly not about Lin or Harris or anything of substance. The week had been too busy, frantic, really, she had told herself. Now, she realized it felt more like mutual avoidance.
“Hey.” His smile was tired, but genuine. “I found a back ramp up to the rooftops. Wanna come?”
Nel’s shoulders relaxed an inch or two. “Yeah, I really would. One sec.” Ducking back to her kitchen, she grabbed a beer from her cooling unit before stepping into the hall.
Emilio glanced at the bottle, eyes crinkling slightly.
“Kasanove did me a solid,” she explained, cheeks flushing as she waggled the bottle.
His laugh was soft, but kind. He led them around the corner, past the ramp she’d taken for the meeting. A doorway cut to the left, where a narrow, steeper ramp led up to the topmost storey of the stepped pyramid.
Nel let out a low whistle, turning a slow circle to take in the panorama. “Have to admit it’s pretty.”
“It is. Found this spot when I took myself on a little tour.”
“Didn’t feel like bothering Kasanove?”
Emilio’s eyes flicked sidelong at her. “Something like that.” He eased himself down, one-handed, to sit on the low wall surrounding the rim of the rooftop, swinging his legs over to dangle.
Nel did the same, albeit much slower. When she had settled and popped the top of her beer, Emilio nodded his chin toward the view.
“Figured you’d like it up here. Saw you up on the *rosa roof enough nights, while your kids were out drinking.”
Nel snorted. “Never could miss a good view.”
“Lording over the land? Makes you feel big?” he hazarded.
She tapped her bootheel on the wall thoughtfully. The glass sweated against her hand. Whatever rolled over her tongue was unfamiliar, sour as it was bitter, but it was beer. Beyond, the view was an approximation of a summer’s sunseet, if Earth had been lit, not by sun, but the belly of a massive emerald-blue moon. “More like makes me feel small. Looking at everyone down there with these complicated lives. Makes my problems feel small.”
“I think all our problems could stand to be a bit smaller, these days.” He fished a slim hand rolled cigarette from his breast pocket, lighting it with a match from a battered book. The faded cardboard was printed with the name of his restaurant in Chile.Nel’s brows arched. “Never seen you smoke before.”
“Rarely, anymore. They frown on open flames on spaceships, you know.”
She chuckled, watching as he lit the end carefully before pinching the match tip between his fingers. He held it out and she ruefully shook her head, holding up the beer. “I think one vice is enough for me these days.”
“I used to sneak my father’s Kents,” he confessed, taking a drag, edges of his eyes tight as he focused on the flavor. Or feelings. Memories. “That’s what made me feel big.”
The night settled over them, dampening the air, muffling the clink of her beer, the faint crackle of his cigarette’s cherry. She couldn’t call it a wind, but the air moved, eddying. “So. Harris, huh?”
The crows’ feet tightened further and he let out his breath in a long, low sigh. “Harris.”
“When did you figure it out?” she asked, affording him the privacy of looking down, but not that of silence. “I know you said it was while we were on Earth but,” she shrugged, “How’d you keep it to yourself?”
“Some of us have a step between thinking and speaking, Bently,” he teased. His face sobered and he flicked ash from his cigarette. “It was a slow realization, but I was supposed to keep an eye on him anyway, and the more I watched the more I saw. He had surgical work done, of course, and the years we’ve been apart have been longer than they’ve numbered, at least for me. By the time I knew for certain, we’d received word they were extracting us.”
“But all that time on the ship. Working with Dar. Why’d you never mention it?”
“I hadn’t decided how I wanted to feel about it. And who he is didn’t matter,” his shoulders lifted in a shrug. “Brother or not, he was our enemy in that moment.”
“Cold,” she muttered. “Guess I’m glad I’m not on your bad side anymore.”
“I said it didn’t matter. Not that I didn’t love him. Though,” he nudged her boot with his, “I imagine you understand that a bit more now.”
Nel grimaced. “Wish I didn’t.”
“Are you angry that I messaged her?”
A frown flashed over Nel’s face and she glanced over. “I mean, it worked out.”
“Sure. Still, you could be angry. You’ve been rather uncharacteristically quiet since we got here.”
Her mouth opened, then shut. The voices were real. Of course, she was angry–she always was. But not at Emilio. Not at Dar or Harris or Mansur or even Lin. “It’s all just a lot to take in, I think. Maybe I finally reached my limit.” The laugh she let out was weak and unconvincing. “I’m sorry. I caused a scene.”
He gave her an embarrassed smile. “I could have told you. I think it’s about time I started trusting you. You might say it in the most tactless way, but you aren’t often wrong.”
“Eh,” she disagreed.
“Are you going to talk to her?”
“I kind of have to. I mean, we’re on the same mission. Or whatever. Our first meeting is tomorrow–I saw you on that list.” she petered off, seeing his raised brow. “Oh. You mean talk, talk to her.”
He just held her gaze, dark brown eyes amused.
She heaved a sigh. “I don’t know. Like, genuinely don’t fucking know.”
He nodded, still silent, turning to look back at the blue-washed limestone compound below.
“What would you do?”
“You’re not me. But,” he stubbed out the cigarette, “I visit Harris every day.”
Nel’s eyes narrowed on him, trying to parse the advice that lay between those lines. The light dimmed, shadows lengthening, crawling further up walls until they engulfed the compound entirely. The light was odd, too diffuse for proper moonlight, and several shades too blue. The faint lights of the platforms glimmered through the trees, shuttles moving people and belongings from the docking bays.
Nel took a swig, only to find her bottle empty. She suddenly wished for the flimsy cardboard of a six pack, softened in the summer damp. “Guess that’s last call,” she muttered, rising with a groan, organic knee popping. “See you in the morning?”
“See you then.”
She was at the ramp when he turned, backlit by the distant lights of the dome. “She said she heard them too, Nel.”
“I know.” But it was a whisper.
I hope you enjoyed that glimpse into Emissaries! Let me know what you think will come of Nel’s latest conflict.
REVIEWS AND RECOMMENDATIONS
I just started a horror romance novella Thrum, from Meg Smitherman, which is a delightfully creepy afternoon read. For more sci-fi romance, you can check out the August Out of This World collection, and for the fantasy lovers, be sure to swing by Fierce Fantasy!
Take good care!