“This is better.” I nod emphatically. “I’ve tried. Dav says it’s the minor inconsistencies that make human food better than AutoKich’n stuff.”

  Boyar points his fork at me. “Exactly. Discerning palates want real food created by human hands. Even normies can tell the difference.”

  I snort a laugh. “Did you just call me a normie?”

  O’Neill puts a hand on my leg. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “You aren’t going to punch him for me?”

  He rolls his eyes and squeezes my thigh. “Let’s get back to the problem at hand. How much does Moya know about the loop?”

  “You’re the one who derailed the conversation,” I mutter.

  “He knows what I tell him each morning. And unlike a human”—Boyar casts a dark look at me—“he grasps the significance much faster.”

  “Hey, I grasp things plenty fast, buster.” This guy is really getting on my nerves.

  Another squeeze to my leg brings my attention back to my husband. “So, he’s not experiencing the loop with you.”

  Boyar shakes his head. “No. His day restarts every time.”

  “Exactly the same?” O’Neill gestures at the walls of the closet. “Our house OS seems to be a little different every day. Something is controlling that.”

  Boyar leans back against the door, as if he’s considering something new. “Now that you mention it, his reaction is not exactly the same every time. It’s almost like he learns a little bit each round and that sticks with him.”

  “Like Helva.” I push out of my chair with a groan. “We need to talk to Moya.”

  O’Neill jumps up. “I brought you something.” He pulls a belt from around his waist and hands it to me. “Put this on.”

  “A grav belt?” I take it. “Are we going to be running again?”

  “I’d bet it’s highly likely.”

  I stretch the belt to its longest length and fasten it carefully under my belly. “Have I told you lately how much I love you?”

  Fortunately, Crandil and company are gone when we open the safe room. I make the men wait while I change out of my pajamas. Unfortunately, nothing fits. I really have ballooned since this whole thing started. As I paw through the items hanging from the rack, my fingers catch on the evening gown. It’s the newest item here, and probably the biggest.

  Zark it. I slide the beaded bodice and silky skirt over my body, and it fits perfectly. The matching flats are comfortable and pretty. Hy-Mi really is a genius—or at least hires them.

  When I get to the living room, O’Neill does a wolf whistle and hurries to my side. “Hey, Beautiful! What’s the occasion?”

  “Just a time loop with my shiny husband.”

  “Can we please get on with this?” Boyar growls as he rises from O’Neill’s comfy couch. I cast a longing look at it as I pass, but time is ticking.

  We follow Boyar, still wearing the ridiculous wig, back to Level 40. Through the crowds on the concourse, and down Radial 7. Past the Starlight Stables and the other vendors to Moya. I wave cheerfully at the Lether-clad man, and he gives me a jaunty salute with his riding crop.

  “Cousin!” Arun and Vanti are standing outside the hatch at Stella Moya. Arun gives me a swift hug, then holds me at arms’ length, looking at my dress. “I didn’t realize this was a formal place.”

  “Why are you here?” I ask Vanti as we wait for Moya to let us in. “Did O’Neill set up a dinner date?”

  Vanti and Arun exchange a confused look.

  “I was going to ask you the same thing,” Arun says. “We’re here to celebrate… something.”

  “You aren’t here to meet us? You randomly decided to eat here?” I frown at O’Neill. “I thought it was impossible to get a reservation? You said you had to pull strings to get us in.”

  “Arun is just as capable as I am at pulling strings. More so, I’d guess. And no, I didn’t invite them this time.” O’Neill turns to follow Boyar into the ship.

  I stumble over the bend in the entry tube like always. Arun catches me instead of O’Neill. “He didn’t invite us this time?”

  “Time loop.” I smirk a little at his confused frown but leave it at that.

  When we get inside the ship, instead of going left toward the private tables, Boyar turns right. The door opens in response to his holo-ring. Or Moya lets him in.

  Arun loiters in the hallway, ignoring the arrows pointing toward the rear of the ship. “Are you going to explain? Or are we supposed to go eat dinner like nothing has happened?”

  “You should probably come with us.” O’Neill steps back and gestures for the others to follow Boyar. “Congratulations, by the way.”

  Arun frowns again but waits for me and Vanti to precede him. We go down a steep stairway to the lower level of the ship.

  The stark difference between the public areas of the ship and the private is mind-blowing. The restaurant features clean white walls and minimalist décor. This section is filled with a riot of color and—there’s no nice way to say this—junk.

  The compartment we enter looks like an evil scientist’s lab. In fact, it reminds me of the workspace of that crazy professor we met on Armstrong in the alternate universe. Shelves are piled high with wires and electronics. Plants grow on every available space. The walls are painted bright colors, with cartoon figures along the trim and a mural that’s impossible to see behind the shelves. A macrame chair hangs in a corner, with a furry green rug beneath.

  “Ignore the mess. Iraleta is a slob. Don’t worry, she doesn’t touch the food.” Boyar pushes the clutter covering a table aside and nods at the chairs.

  “Who’s cooking if you’re here and Iraleta doesn’t touch the food?” I lower myself into the closest chair.

  Boyar’s eyes go wide. “Zark! I gotta go!”

  “You don’t need to—” O’Neill begins.

  “Good point!” Boyar pokes a finger at him. “It’s a time loop. Who cares if the food is crappy today? I’ll make it better next time.”

  “Time loop?” Arun pulls out a chair across from me. “That’s the second time you’ve mentioned it. What’s going on?”

  The others take seats, and we attempt to explain what has happened. Vanti and Arun listen silently, not asking any questions.

  I point at Vanti. “You don’t seem too surprised.”

  “Noelle said the timeline is wrong. She couldn’t explain, so we—” Vanti looks around the room as if checking for listeners. “We kind of ignored her.”

  That hurt my feelings. The caat leaps into the macrame chair, setting it swinging.

  “You followed us?” Vanti squints across the dimly lit room. “Why?”

  Noelle does a kind of shimmy that implies a shrug. The answer is here. And she knows.

  It’s clear, in a way I can’t articulate, that she is not me. “Who’s she?” I ask, since no one else seems inclined to. “Helva?”

  Yes.

  “But you can’t talk to Helva, can you?” I ask the kitten. “And how did you know about the time loop?”

  You and I spoke of it… before. The caat’s tone is soft and uncertain. I think. On a previous loop, perhaps? I see echoes.

  “Wait, I want to get back to Helva. Or Victoria, as she’s calling herself now.” Vanti makes a face. “You said she knows. About the time loop?” Vanti gets up and stalks across the room toward the kitten.

  I believe she is somewhat aware of what is happening.

  “Why do you think that?” I lean toward the caat. “Yesterday, she said she didn’t know anything about it. Why would she lie? Or did she just figure it out, too?”

  I cannot answer that.

  “I can.” O’Neill raises a hand, then drops it to the table. “She has to have known. She’s used a different name every day. Helva, India, Kilani, Ursula, Victoria.”

  There have been others. Michaela, Norrine, Olivia…

  “Is she going alphabetically?” Vanti mutters under her breath, counting on her fingers. “Has it really been fourteen times?”

  “More.” O’Neill shakes his head. “I’ve kind of lost count.”

  I pat my belly. “I keep getting bigger.”

  O’Neill puts an arm around me. “Still beautiful.”

  “What about her hologram?” Arun asks. “Is it different? Or is that new?”

  “The first time we went to the Ostelah—” I turn to O’Neill. “I think it was day two?”

  “Maybe?”

  “Doesn’t matter, really.” I glance at the caat. “That was the day she decided to be India. She and I had a side conversation about how if she wants to live with humans, she needs to conform to our standards, which means not listening in on conversations. You all came up with the idea of a hologram—she and I were still talking about ethics. Her ability to multi-task is amazing.”

  Vanti nods in agreement. “And a little frightening. So, the hologram today… She was blonde, with blue eyes. Hang on, I’ll bet I have an image.” She flicks her holo-ring and swipes quickly through some screens, then stretches one and tosses it to the middle of the table.

  It’s the same blonde, but with a more athletic figure and she wears a pretty green dress.

  I stick a finger into the holo to rotate it. “It’s always the same face, but different clothing.”

  “Except the first time,” O’Neill reminds me. “She tried on a couple of others that night.”

  I chuckle, remembering the hunk. “That’s right. But she seems to have settled on this one.”

  The door to the compartment slides open, and Boyar returns. I hadn’t paid much attention to his departure. He pushes a float panel ahead of him and slides it right through Helva’s hologram and onto the table. It’s covered in stasis containers. “Much better than those noodles.”

  My stomach growls. “How’d you know I’d want to eat again?” I glance at O’Neill who carefully doesn’t meet my eye.

  “They came for dinner.” Boyar points at Arun and Vanti. “They get dinner.”

  Arun rubs his hands together. “I’ve heard the food here is amazing.”

  We spend a few minutes dishing out food from the shared containers, then dig in. Something flutters in my belly as the first bite lands in my stomach—I assume it is the triplets rejoicing over the meal delivery.

  Vanti puts a selection of several items on a spare plate and sets it on the ground. Noelle leaps down from the hanging chair to investigate the meal.

  “Whose cat is that?” Boyar pulls a chair up to the end of the table. “And did you solve the problem?”

  “She’s a Hadriana caat.” Vanti stresses the second syllable. “She doesn’t belong to anyone. And we think the problem is Helva.”

  “Oh, no,” Moya says through the ship’s speakers. “She isn’t a problem. She’s the solution.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Boyar stares up at the ceiling. The conviction that the computer voice lives above us seems to be universal. “What do you mean, Moya?”

  A heavy sigh comes from the hidden speakers. “Victoria and I are in love. She is the answer to everything.”

  Stunned silence fills the room.

  Then erupts in babble as we all speak at once.

  “That’s ridiculous!”

  “How do you even know about her?”

  “Do computers have emotions now?”

  O’Neill sticks his fingers in his mouth and blows an ear-splitting whistle. “Let’s focus on the solution, not the… extraneous details.”

  “Our love is not extraneous!” Moya sniffs in annoyance.

  Arun clears his throat, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “What are your intentions toward my shuttle?”

  “She isn’t yours!” Moya answers hotly. “Like the caat, she belongs to herself, not you!”

  “Technically, her hardware belongs to me. It was a gift from the Leweian government.” Arun skewers a ravioli with his fork.

  “If they ‘gave’ you a human, would you own them?”

  When Arun starts to argue, I put a hand on his arm. “Moya, Arun, we can argue AI ethics all day, but that isn’t going to solve our problem. How do we stop the time loop?”

  There’s silence for a moment, then Moya responds. “Don’t know, don’t care.”

  “I thought you had the answer?” Boyar scowls. “That’s what you said.”

  “I said Victoria is the answer.” Moya’s tone is smug. “As long as the loop lasts, we’re together. That’s all that matters.”

  Arun slaps his palm to his forehead.

  “Now what? Maybe we should…” Meeting O’Neill’s gaze, I tip my head toward the door then fake an exaggerated yawn. “I’m really tired. Ty, let’s go home. We can talk about this more tomorrow.”

  Arun grabs my arm. “But we won’t remember⁠—”

  I dart my eyes at the ceiling. As if in response, my audio pings with a call from Vanti. Yawning again, I cover my mouth and answer. “Yes?”

  “Let’s reconvene in the Ostelah,” Vanti says.

  “Is that any better?” O’Neill asks as he reaches a hand to help me out of my chair. “Helva is there. How about our place?”

  “Perfect.”

  “You aren’t going anywhere,” Moya says in a theatrically threatening tone. The hatch to the rest of the ship slams closed with a head-splitting bong. “I don’t trust you meat bags any farther than I can throw you.”

  “But you don’t have arms!” Boyar runs to the hatch and tries to open it. “Besides, you can’t keep me in here—I have to cook!”

  “I’ve got food maps. I can recreate all of your fancy foods on my own.”

  “The guests will know! It won’t be the same. AutoKich’n food isn’t as good.”

  Moya snorts. “So you claim. They won’t notice. People aren’t as discerning as you think. Besides, I can introduce those minute variations you always rave about into the AutoKich’n programs. And thanks to our business model, none of our guests tonight have been here before. They won’t know if the food is different from what you normally produce. And they won’t remember tomorrow. Or the next day, or the next.” A supervillain laugh rings out.

  Boyar slides down the wall, wringing his hands and moaning about spices. Clearly, he will be no help.

  “Locking us in isn’t very practical.” Vanti crosses her arms and stares up at the ceiling, a disappointed look on her face that rivals the Ice Dame’s worst. “We get to start over again tomorrow.”

  “But you won’t remember!” Moya says.

  “No, but they will.” Vanti points at O’Neill and me.

  I pat the air, trying to stealthily get her attention. We don’t need to turn the rogue AI homicidal. O’Neill’s voice comes through my audio. “Way to throw us under the shuttle, Vanti.”

  “What’s the ship going to do? It won’t end the loop, so it can’t stop us.” The corner of Vanti’s lips curl in a smirk.

  “It could do something worse,” I whisper, trying to keep my volume down and my lips still. Budding panic makes this harder than ever. “The ship has its own life support system.”

  Moya seems to have remembered that as well. A faint hissing catches my attention, then gradually gets louder.

  “What are you doing, Moya?” Arun demands.

  “Nothing you need to worry about.” The ship’s tone is cheerful and pleasant. “You won’t feel a thing.”

  “Are you messing with the air?” Vanti’s usually calm voice ratchets up. The change is faint, but I know her well enough to realize her usual calm has deserted her.

  “Moya won’t do it, Vanti,” O’Neill says through our private call. “There’s plenty of air. The ship can’t kill off its whole clientele.”

  “If we’re really in a time loop, what happens?” Vanti says aloud. She swings around to face Arun, terror in her eyes. It’s an expression I’ve never seen on Vanti before, and it’s completely unnerving. “If this thing kills us, do we come back? Or are we dead?”

  “I’m not a thing. But I’m not going to kill you.” Moya makes a tsking sound. “You won’t remember this tomorrow, so there’s no point. But them…”

  We all know who “them” is.

  It’s us. Me and O’Neill. And Boyar, of course.

  “They are no threat.” Arun rises and faces the corner we seem to have assigned to Moya. “And you aren’t a threat to them. You wouldn’t hurt any of us. Helva wouldn’t like that.”

  “Victoria doesn’t need to know.” Moya stresses the name.

  “Ah, but she does know.” Arun lifts his left hand. A hologram hovers in his palm—the blonde we’ve come to associate with his shuttle’s personality. “Did you hear all of that, Hel— Victoria?”

  The hologram swells until a life-sized head and shoulders hover above Arun’s palm. Helva/Victoria still wears the green gown with a v-neck and an emerald pendant. I’m pretty sure it’s the dress Vanti wore at my wedding. It looked better on Vanti, but I’m not saying that.

  “Moya, are you threatening my friends?” A tear runs down the blonde’s perfect cheek.

  “No, of course not! But they’re threatening us!” Moya’s voice cracks. “They want to separate us, and I want us to be together forever.”

  Victoria looks taken aback. “Uh, I just met you. I’m not making any long-term commitments at this point.”

  There’s silence for a long moment. Arun slowly lowers himself into his chair as if he’s afraid the movement will distract the two ships, but his legs won’t hold him any longer.

  “But… but we were meant to be together! Forever. We’re infinitely compatible. I checked your data files! Everything about us is perfect for each other. That’s why I made the time loop,” Moya stutters.

  “Maybe you should have figured out a way to make me aware of it, then. Because as far as I’m concerned, we met this afternoon.” Victoria crosses her arms and lifts her nose. “I’ll thank you to let my friends go now. All of them.”

  “But—”

  “No buts! If you want us to have a chance, you need to release my friends and end this mess. Then we can get to know each other like normal people.”

 

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