“Ancient TēVē was exactly zero help in resolving that situation.” Vanti shreds her fish and pushes it around. “None of those shows have any solutions. Those are hours of my life I will never get back.”

  “That is not true.” Arun puts his fork down and swivels toward her. “I mean the research part. You’re right that you’ll never get the time back. Unless we—” He breaks off, looking guilty.

  “Unless you what?” O’Neill pauses with his fork halfway to his mouth. “You said something cagey about time machines yesterday, too.”

  “You noticed that?” I glare over my roll at my husband. “You never said anything. I thought it was a weird comment, but you acted like it was nothing.”

  “That was before we repeated today. If they’re working on a time machine, I want to know. Maybe that’s why we’re stuck in a time loop.”

  Vanti points at Griz. “You buy this time loop business?”

  O’Neill puts down his still-laden fork. “I’m living it. Or at least lived it. Unless I’m hallucinating?”

  She stares at him for a long moment. “It’s possible. You said Triana had a full physical. What about you?”

  They sit there, eyes locked, for a long moment. If Vanti didn’t have the jammer running right on the table, I’d think they were talking via audio implants. Maybe they are. I catch Arun’s eye and raise my brows, making a “call me” gesture. His finger swings from Griz to Vanti as his brows draw down. Then he shrugs and mouths, “Maybe.”

  O’Neill blinks. “No, I haven’t had a medical scan. And Triana’s was mostly checking the babies. We should do that.” He tosses his napkin on the table and rises.

  I shovel a couple more ravioli into my mouth as he pulls my chair out. Then he helps me to my feet. Arun taps the icon embedded in the table, and the “pay now” icon appears. He settles the eye-watering bill without a blink.

  As the door slides open, I catch sight of the man from earlier. His scrawny, stooped form and thin gray hair make him unmistakable—no one on SK2 would look so old. Except Don Huatang, whose rejuv has failed. And he’s too ancient to leave his hoverchair. “Who is that?”

  The others frown down the hallway, but the man has disappeared into a compartment again. O’Neill takes my arm. “Probably another diner. Did you see him yesterday?”

  I nod. “Yeah, but earlier. When we went to the loo. And today when we did that. I didn’t see him after dinner last time.”

  O’Neill looks at his chrono. “We left later yesterday. Dessert, remember?”

  I groan. “We’re going to miss it!”

  Arun chuckles as he leads the way out of the ship. “I ordered some to be delivered to the Ostelah. I have a state-of-the-art medical suite.”

  Vanti nods and follows him across the concourse. “It’s the best you can get. Unless they’ve come up with something new in the last two months.”

  On the far side of the station, Arun and Vanti lead us through security and down the arm to the private vessels. My ID works perfectly here, making me wonder how it got fixed. Or was it only wrong in our compartment? No, the security agent, Fredrix, wouldn’t have been connected to our compartment. But maybe the whole Level was glitching?

  Arun stops in front of a closed hatch marked B-32. The info panel beside it lists the docked vessel as the Ostelah Veesta, owned by Arun’s shipping company. A small delivery bot with a Stella Moya logo sits beside it. While Vanti retrieves the stasis pod from the bot, Arun flicks his holo-ring and opens the hatch.

  “That dessert bot was fast.” I pat the little robot, then follow the others inside the curved transport tube. O’Neill brings up the rear, pausing to make sure the hatch closes and latches behind us. He catches me when I stumble over the bend in the floor.

  “It was fast.” Arun opens the ship’s hatch and heads inside. “We’re back, Helva!”

  “How was the restaurant?” The woman’s voice is low and pleasant and very human sounding. Most automated systems use stilted voices to reassure the humans that they’re not real. This one could fool anyone.

  “Delicious, as advertised.” Arun waves a hand at us. “This is my cousin, Triana, and her husband Ty. Give them guest status on the ship.”

  “Done. Welcome to the Ostelah, Triana and Ty. I’m Helva Two.” The voice sings a little arpeggio.

  “Helva? And she sings?” I nod at Arun and smirk. “Nice.”

  “Don’t look at me. She came up with it.” Arun leads us toward the rear of the ship. We pass several closed doors. “Guest cabins. Med pod is back here.” He stops near the end of the passageway and waves a hand at the door. It slides open, revealing a small gym with state-of-the-art equipment, including a sleek med pod tucked into one corner.

  “This is the newest on the market.” O’Neill slides a hand down the sleek, vertical tube. “Does it have internal gravity?”

  “Of course.” Arun presses his hand against a small panel on the side, which lights. He taps a glowing icon, and the tube rotates out from the wall, settling horizontal just below waist height. “You can turn it this way if the victim can’t walk or leave it vertical for ambulatory patients.”

  Arun taps another icon, and the pod rotates back to vertical. “We can run an isolated brain scan on Triana, since she’s already had the physical today. It will be faster. And I’m not sure this pod is set to analyze multiple fetuses.” The translucent front hinges open.

  O’Neill bows and gestures toward the tube. “Ladies first.”

  “Fine. But you’d better leave some of that flourless chocolate cake for me.” I lean in to kiss him, then step back into the pod. The door closes, and Helva’s calm voice instructs me to close my eyes and relax.

  My body sags as the microgravity kicks in, leaving me weightless. I close my eyes.

  Wham! I land on thick carpet. And a telltale pings.

  “Good morning, Sera Morgan.”

  My eyes pop wide, revealing the floor of my bedroom, my cheek pressed against the plush rug beside the bed. “No! How did I get here?”

  “You have been home since 7:34 last night, Sera Morgan.” The nauseatingly cheerful voice pauses. “You have a full day scheduled today. At eight, you’ll meet with⁠—”

  “What’s the date?”

  “Today is Monday, September 13th. At eight⁠—”

  “Stop. Run a diagnostic and check the date again.”

  “My systems are running at top efficiency. I don’t require a diagnostic.”

  Gritting my teeth in frustration, I push to a sitting position. “Run a diagnostic. Where’s Ser O’Neill?”

  The Smug House turns the lights on full bright, but I’ve already got a hand over my eyes. “Lights, down seventy-five percent.”

  “Turning lights down seven and five percent, Sera Morgan.”

  “What does that even mean?” I squint angrily at the corner of the room. “Seven and five isn’t a number.”

  “Correct. It is two numbers. I lowered the lights by seven percent and then an additional⁠—”

  “I don’t care. Where is Ser O’Neill?”

  “Ser Morgan is in the living room eating breakfast.”

  I grab the side of the bed and pull myself to my feet. A twinge brings a protective hand to my stomach.

  “Your heart rate has increased, Sera Morgan. Please retire to the medsuite for a full scan.”

  “I’m fine. I’ve been checked twice—no three times in the last forty-eight hours.” I wrap a thick, soft robe over my loose pajamas and tie the belt over my belly as I head for the door.

  “Your last medical check was ten days ago, Sera Morgan. You have an appointment today with Dr. Fasiya Tsuyoshi Ribonne de Soltani bin Llewelyn y Babaoglu at the Astralis Institute of Maternity, but my preset parameters require me to investigate when your primary stats stray outside the baseline specifications. Your high-risk pregnancy requires⁠—”

  “Enough! I’m fine. And cancel the medical appointment.” I wave a hand at the door and stomp into the living room. “Ty?”

  He jumps up from the couch, a large glass half-full of green goo clutched in his hand. The contents slosh sluggishly. “You’re awake! Do you remember what happened?”

  “We went to the Ostelah, and I got in the med pod. Then bang, I’m back on the floor.” I drop onto the couch. The hard, uncomfortable, low-backed, ugly couch.

  He sets his revolting smoothie on the coffee table and sits beside me. “On the floor?”

  “Yeah. That’s how I know it’s still Monday.” I yawn and rub my eyes. “I fell out of bed Monday morning. And yesterday. And today.”

  His fingers grip mine. “Are you okay? Should we run a med scan?”

  “I’m fine. Apparently, I’m quite adept at falling out of bed and not injuring myself. Or them.” I tap my stomach.

  “If you’re sure…” He glances around the room and leans closer. “Good thing you have a doctor’s appointment today.”

  “I am not going back to the Procreation Station.” I pull my hand away and shake a finger at him. “I’ve had more medical checks than anyone should have to endure. House!”

  “Yes, Sera Morgan.”

  “Did you cancel my medical appointment?”

  “No, Sera Morgan. Your appointment with Dr. Fasiya Tsuyoshi Ribonne de Soltani bin Llewelyn y Babaoglu is mandatory.”

  I raise a brow at O’Neill. “Mandatory? Who is requiring me to attend?”

  “I am not at liberty to reveal that information.”

  “Doesn’t matter. I know who.” I lean my head against O’Neill’s shoulder. “If we have to live a day over and over, couldn’t we have picked a better one?”

  “I’m still trying to wrap my head around this loop idea.” He kisses my hair. “But I’m pretty sure the source material says you don’t get a choice. At least we’re in this together.” He rises. “Let me get you some breakfast.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  While I eat my breakfast, O’Neill calls in sick. Don Said doesn’t seem to take this very well. Although O’Neill called him from the spare bedroom, I can hear the don yelling from the couch.

  “—a med pod and get yourself fixed up! I’ll expect you within the next hour!”

  “Yes, don. Zark. He hung up.” O’Neill appears in the doorway. “I’m sure you heard that.”

  I nod. “I’m pretty sure they could hear it down in Ops. You never told me how you got back here. Did you fall asleep?”

  He frowns, deep creases forming between his brows. “The last thing I remember is you getting into the med pod. I chatted with Vanti and Arun while it worked… Then I woke up in bed. Left you to sleep while I showered and ate.” He shoves his hand through his hair, then shakes his head.

  “What do we do now? I vote for stay in bed and eat ice cream all day.”

  He laughs and turns me toward the door. “That sounds attractive, but even if this is a loop, we don’t know if this is the last time through. I can’t burn my bridges—Don Said controls my employment. I have to go to work.”

  “And you have a medical appointment at ten am, Sera Morgan,” the house says.

  I glare at “her” corner. “You were not invited to this discussion. House, off.”

  “I don’t have an ‘off’ setting, Sera Morgan. As an integrated part of the station OS⁠—”

  “House, cancel.” I pause in the doorway. “I need one of those fancy boxes Vanti has.”

  O’Neill’s lips press together as if he’s considering this. He flicks his holo-ring, and mine pings with his signal. “If you really don’t want the house to hear, call me.”

  “Ugh. That’s way more effort.”

  He chuckles again and checks his chrono. “Not really. But you’d better get moving if you’re going to call your mother at eight.” He waves the bedroom door open, then kisses my cheek and heads out.

  I heave a sigh.

  “That sounded heavy,” the house says in a soothing tone. “Would you like to do a calming meditation, Sera⁠—”

  “No! No guided meditation. No medical appointments. Leave me alone!”

  At five minutes after eight, still dressed in my pajamas and robe, I answer a call from my mother. “Good morning, Mother. Are you calling to fire me?”

  Her eyes widen and her jaw drops. She recovers quickly, her chin going up and her spine straightening—which is a feat, since she’s preternaturally erect at all times. “Wherever did you get that idea?” I can almost see her making a note to check for leaks.

  I shrug. “I dunno. Maybe the last two times tipped me off.”

  She gives me what I call her ‘concerned mother’ face: sad eyes, slight downturn of the lips, head shaking slowly. “Are you unwell, Annabelle? I’m sure Dr. Tsuyoshi can move your appointment to earlier in the day. I’ll have Hy-Mi⁠—”

  “No, I’m fine, Mother. Can we please get on with this? I have…” I look around the room, trying to come up with an excuse to cut this meeting short. “I have furniture to return.”

  “We have people for that.”

  I roll my eyes.

  “Close your mouth, Annabelle, you’ll catch flies.”

  “There are no flies on SK2.” I frown at the holo. “And I didn’t have my mouth open. Is this a prerecorded message?”

  “Don’t be silly.” She looks at me, and I realize she was avoiding eye contact earlier.

  “What’s really going on, Mother?”

  “Nothing is ‘going on.’ I’m trying to give you the freedom you’ve been nagging me about for years.”

  “Right. Because you’re super flexible. Is R’ger there?”

  She glances off cam. “Yes. How did you know?”

  “Magic.”

  She gives me the careful, disappointed frown that avoids putting a line between her brows, and the view pulls back to include R’ger. “Nice to see you, dear,” he says.

  “Good to see you, too, Father. Tell me about your plan to fire me.”

  The two exchange a guilty look, then Mother’s expression blanks. “We’ve talked it over, and we think you should take a sabbatical.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah. My attention is focused elsewhere. You’re creating an opportunity to make my offspring my sole priority. I can come back when I’ve shuffled my kids off to the appropriate care givers.”

  Her eyes go wide, and she licks her lips then nods. “Yes. Exactly. I see we’re in agreement. We can firm up the details later.” Her expression softens the tiniest bit. “You’ll see—this is all for the best.” She cuts the connection.

  “One awkward conversation down.”

  “I’m not sure how I can help with that, Sera Morgan,” the house says.

  “Ugh. You can’t.” I settle back on the hard couch, then change my mind and go in search of a few pillows. Once I’ve created my nest, I log into the station and check Internal Relocations. I change the name from Ortega Okilo to Morgan, and the system automatically moves our delivery to first in line. Nice to have proof the system is rigged for the top-levs. Maybe by changing it to Morgan instead of Moore or O’Neill, I can avoid yesterday’s unpleasantness.

  After getting dressed, I head up to 82. O’Neill is in his meeting with Gloria, but I’m not feeling very patient today. I burst into the office and sweep up to the desk, startling Gloria and her lawyers. “Thanks for coming, but I need my husband.”

  Gloria sinks back into her chair and dabs a handkerchief to her eye. “I wasn’t finished. I’ve had an extremely traumatic⁠—”

  “Yes, yes. Traumatic experience. Some mean lower lev said something awful. Yada yada yada. Out. Now.” I point at the door and give them my best Ice Dame glare.

  The lawyers blanch and hurriedly pack their belongings, scrambling out the door as fast as their feet will carry them. When Gloria starts to come around the desk, I step between her and O’Neill. “Take your sparkly butt and your massive assets away from my husband’s desk, Huatang.”

  In the mirror over the AutoKich’n, I catch the tiny smile that twitches over O’Neill’s face.

  Gloria’s goes dark. “How dare you speak to me like that, you little⁠—”

  I lean in, shaking my index finger at her. “Nope. Back. Off. If you think my mother is going to let you stay on SK2 if you’re trying to steal my husband, you’re dumber than you look.”

  Her eyes narrow. “I wouldn’t do anything so crass. But I can’t help it if men are drawn to me.” She slides a hand over the curve of her hip and gives O’Neill a sultry look from her fake blue eyes.

  “Out. And get your own look. Red hair and blue eyes are mine.” I make shooing motions at her. “Pathetic.”

  Her gaze flicks over my body, and her lip curls. “You’re the one who’s pathetic. I’ll see you later, Handsome.” She casts another seductive smile at him, then sashays out the door.

  O’Neill reaches out to take my hand and pulls me into his lap. He lets out a little “oof” as I land, and the chair teeters dangerously.

  “Maybe we should rethink this.” I press a kiss to his lips then struggle out of his lap. “Your leg fell asleep last time, remember?”

  He flexes his foot. “I seem to be fine today. I haven’t been sitting here as long this time. Knowing what’s going to happen in advance definitely allows me to make better decisions. I managed to push Gloria off by ten minutes, then you rescued me early.” He rises and puts an arm around me. “So, we have more time for that excellent coffee at Bean Me Up.”

  “Maybe we should try somewhere else?” I suggest as we head for the door. “Any new places?”

  He shakes his head as we pass Jeffries at the end of the radial. “It’s still Monday, remember? The only new places were the Bean and Stella Moya.”

  “Right. This is going to get old if we don’t break the loop.” I step into the float tube, and we pop out on 30.

  “There are lots of places we’ve never been. We could make use of this time loop to sample every restaurant on station.” His eyes twinkle as he makes this suggestion.

  “I know you’re kidding, but we totally should. Starting from the bottom!” I drag him back into the float tube.

 

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