Under a Starless Sky novel Chapter 72

The maze was not hard to extricate themselves from. Other people were emerging. There was evidence of at least two other tube station, evident by the towers east and west of their position. A car going up in the distance sparked suggesting another, but could have been a giantess lighting a cigarette. As they drew closer to the primary structure, it became clear there was a forth tower-transport on the other side of the Ballroom, as a car arriving was illuminated. The hall was squared on a solid marble slab, stairs going up on each side. Arches allowed entrance in egress from all sides. Tables and chairs skirted the dance floor. There was a buffet. The chefs and attendants at the buffet were dressed very similar to Shen and Loxy’s Space Force Uniform, only they had French hats, or berets. There was a live orchestra. They played music that seemed a meshing of classical and contemporary. There was an arch, clearly a moon gate, on the far side from where they entered. Both their eyes went there and they might have walked straight to it but they were stopped by an attendant who thought they seemed lost. Their palms were read. The attendant snapped his fingers and a girl came running to do his bidding.

“Show them to table 14,” he told her.

They were delivered to the table, where there was a chair with back for the man, and stool for the woman wearing a ballroom dress. Jerica was a little angry. The girl hovered, her hand out.

“I have no tokens,” Shen said.

“What sort of man are you?” she asked, and went away.

“Yes, Shen, what sort of man are you?” Jerica asked.

Shen feigned ignorance.

The dance floor held a predominant number of traditionally dressed ballroom style clothing, people gliding across the floor. There were people that were nontraditionally dressed. There were streamers that were suspended from the ceiling, and there were aerial dancers performing above the floor. Shen wanted to do that! He wanted to learn that. Their rope was more cloth than his crude rope, and he would find it had a spongy, springy feel to it when he got a chance to touch it.

“Want to learn to fly?” Shen asked Jerica.

“I like my feet on the ground, thank you,” Jerica said.

He extended his hand. Jerica made a face of uncertainty. He took her hand and led her to the floor. He suspected she was having an emotional reaction to being taken and led, but he didn’t call her out on it. She came with, not protesting. He let go and then presented himself.

“What?” Jerica said. She was trying not laugh.

“Curtsy,” Shen said.

“You wish,” Jerica said.

Shen let that go. He positioned her before him, placed her hands. He described a simple box step and tried to pull her through it.

“It would help if I could see my feet,” Jerica said.

“No, look at my eyes,” Shen said. “And walk. You don’t need to see your feet to walk. In a square. There. Repeat.”

“I feel silly,” Jerica said.

“I know,” Shen said. “That’s normal. You’re doing something new. No. Eyes.” He stopped her. “Now you’re on the train. Get off the train. Don’t think with words. We are in combat. We are in stealth mode. We are communicating without words. We communicate with eyes, with touch. I am point. You flow with me. There. Stay with me. Yes. Be aware of your surroundings, but I am point. Peripheral vision helps us keep distance from others, we communicate with pressured touch and eyes. We share a center. Eyes.”

Shen maintained the routine until it appeared she had it, and then added a variation. They came back to the box step. She realized he was staring at her and blushed.

“What?” Jerica asked.

“You are beautiful, Jerica,” Shen said.

“Because I am dressed up?”

“Yes. No. You’re beautiful when you wake up with bed hair. You’re beautiful doing chores, and after chores, and fighting, and every movement of you, every shade of light that falls on you, guiding the ship in the night with your light full on, but even when your light is off, you shine,” Shen said.

“You notice me,” Jerica said.

“Yes,” Shen said.

“Thank you,” Jerica said. She didn’t know what else to say. “Who taught you to dance?”

“Loxy,” Shen said.

“Is this all you do all day? Dance with ghosts?” Jerica asked.

A woman in a puffy, pink dress approached and tapped Jerica on the shoulder. The dress opened in a V down her back, and most of the shoulders were exposed, though her arms were gloved. The puff of her dress competed with the puff of Jerica’s.

“What?!” Jerica snapped.

“I want to cut in,” the woman said.

“I have a knife, too,” Jerica said.

“Jerica, easy,” Shen said. “This is customary. Right?”

“Men who dance are rare. You have to share, sister,” the woman said.

“I am not your sister. And I am not ready to share,” Jerica said.

“I have something you both might want,” she said.

“A dick?” Jerica said.

The woman didn’t appear to be offended, but neither did she seem amused. It was more like, we could take this outside and dance if you like kind of smile.

“Please don’t say dick,” Shen said.

“I just want to talk,” she said. “Go take a break. Get food. Let me dance with him. Please.”

Shen nodded. “It’s okay.”

Jerica was not happy, but she bowed out gracefully. Jeremy bowed to Jerica, and then to the new woman. She curtsied, accepted his hand, and fell into a routine with him.

“I am Shen,” Jeremy said.

“We know who you are. You have a reputation,” she said.

Shen was confused by that. How could a man who kept mostly to himself have a reputation? He was aware that Jerica lingered at the side of the dance as they turned out and away, before returning to her table. The music that kicked in seemed almost recognizable, but he didn’t place it.

“What sort of rumors prompted you to dance?”

“You’re a ladies man,” she said.

“That would entice you?” Shen asked.

“It makes you approachable. It gives us reason to talk,” she said. “I hear you’re a good conversationalist.”

“I can sometimes fake it well enough to not be mistaken for an NPC with no side quests scripted,” Shen said.

“That’s funny,” she said. “I imagine very few here would get that.”

“You get it?” Shen asked.

“I am more sophisticated than you think,” she said.

“Does sophistication have a name?” Shen asked.

“I am Bevan.”

Jerica pouted and sat on the stool. She lost Shen and the woman to the crowd. She had no intentions of chasing a view to keep him in sight. A woman sat on a stool next to her.

“I’d watch out for that one. She’ll steal your man,” she said.

“She can have him,” Jerica said. “Now go gossip somewhere else, bitch.”

The woman let it known she was offended, exaggerated emotion, and Jerica made it known she didn’t care, equally histrionic. “What? You’re shocked I don’t lament that all men are dogs? They’re men. They should go where they please, when they please. If you don’t want a dog to fuck, you cut his balls off. You do that to a man, you no longer have the person you were wanting to spend time with. Now, grow up.” The women departed, feelings hurt. Jerica turned her attention back to the dance floor. A waitress offered a drink, she refused.

“No, thank you,” Jerica said.

“You really want this,” she insisted.

“I don’t…” Jerica stood up. “Loxy?”

Auto-TL put a finger to her lips. She gave a coy smile and indicated with her eyes that ‘the team’ were here. They were spread out. Arne was leaning against a pillar, looking at her, and had a smile on his face as if he had a secret about her to share. She blushed wondering how long they had been here. Erico was eating his fill from the buffet. Orton was flirting. Women were flirting with Uffe.

“Be ready. When I give the signal, you will want to make your way to that gate,” A-TL said.

Jerica accepted the drink. Nodded. On the dance floor, Shen was oblivious to the arrival of his friends and Loxy. He was focused on Bevan. He was pretty sure her nose had been broken at some point in her life, but he chose not inquire.

“You were popular before you hit the dance floor,” Bevan said. “Now, you may have even giantesses competing to dance with you.”

“I am rather booked up,” Shen said.

“Everyone is going to want a piece of you,” Bevan said.

“My novelty will wear off, I promise,” Shen said.

“Not likely,” Bevan said. “You shouldn’t be here, you know. It’s dangerous.”

“The world was safer?” Shen asked.

“I can get you back there,” Bevan said.

“Can you now,” Shen said. “You have access to a transporter?”

“No, and gate traffic is highly monitored,” Bevan said. “I can smuggle you off, for a price.”

“Of course,” Shen said.

“You won’t get a better deal,” Bevan said.

“Maybe I already made a deal,” Shen said.

“A bad one,” Bevan said. She leaned in. “I know you’re fucking Xana. You’re an idiot. Giantess and giants are sterile. They can’t have children.”

Shen’s reaction was skeptical, but enough to reveal he had doubts. Had she been guessing, then he had also just gave her confirmation. He was not a poker player. He was not James Bond. He sighed. “They have children.”

“They have clones,” Bevan said. “You’ve suspected that much.”

“But…”

“They don’t procreate through sex. The female giants can’t stand the male giants and even if they could, the males are sterile, and the females are barren. They can only reproduce with tech. They think they are reproducing normally through tech, by donating samples. CI takes the samples, splices it together, and the fetus is developed in the womb of a cow. This have been going on for so long, giants can’t exist without cows being a host to offspring. Females always come out identical clones. The males, they have variety, and they are ugly, demented fucks that just want to kill and fuck and have no interest in social etiquette. They are placated with virtual games.”

“Xana is confident I will impregnate her,” Shen said.

“Yeah, I am sure Xana was convincing. She likely believes you can impregnate her. I am sure you’re sore from all the effort. Shen, she is insane and she will literally fuck you to death just to try and get pregnant, but that’s not going to happen,” Bevan said. “Your body can’t handle the amount of hormones they produce. She will be the death of you. But, if you like. You can die happy.”