Born of Fire

Syn led the way inside. “C’mon, it won’t hurt you.”


Shahara moved into the room, her jaw agape as she scanned the contents and fought an urge to take off her boots before she desecrated the perfect white carpet.

To her direct right was a small kitchen unit with a black marble table and one black, stuffed dining chair. To her left were three large, glass desks with several different types of terminals and other electronics she couldn’t even begin to identify. A huge electronic star chart hung on the wall behind the largest desk. And, of course, expensive art pieces were littered about.

Along with another expensive piano.

In front of her was a huge stuffed chair that faced a solid steel-glass wall. Stars and gases twinkled and swirled in the depths of space with varying colors that looked like a living garden. She felt as though she were out in space and not in a station at all.

Syn took the backpack from her shoulder. “Are you hungry?”

Her stomach rumbled an answer.

“I guess you are.” He dropped their packs by his desk before heading toward the kitchen.

“This place is enormous.” She walked over to the kitchen counter.

“It beats what I grew up in, that’s for sure.” He paused in front of a food processor, then pulled her around to see what he was doing. “Here’s a list of the various menus. Choose what you want by simply pushing it.” He touched the screen and the item he’d chosen immediately flashed, then changed screens. “When you pull up a dish, it displays the ingredients and you can add or delete whatever you want.”

She was awed by the device. “Wow, this is high-tech.”

“Yeah, well, I can’t cook any better than you can and this was a lot cheaper than hiring a cook to hang around.”

Shahara gave him a wicked grin. “I’ve never had synthetic food before, how is it?”

He gave her a droll stare. “Given what you fed me this morning, why are you even questioning it?”

He did have a point.

Then he continued, “Most of the time you can’t tell a difference, but stay away from the fish. It comes out rubbery.”

“Gotcha.”

Syn showed her where he kept the silver and linen, then left her to play.

“You want anything?” she asked as he walked to his desk.

“No thanks, I’m not hungry.”

Nodding, she returned to playing with the menu. This was the coolest thing she’d ever seen. It had food from all kinds of planets and cultures.

What I wouldn’t give to have this in my house. Of course it probably cost more than her entire building, but still . . .

Syn began filtering through his voicemail.

Shahara listened to them and was instantly bored. They were all from clients wanting to hire him or discuss shipments with him, sales people trying to schedule appointments, pilots wanting jobs, or his employees with various problems.

Taking her food out of the small countertop cubicle where it appeared, she moved to the table. As she pulled back the solitary chair, she made a startlingly realization.

Everything in this office was designed for only one person.

Everything.

She glanced around to make sure she wasn’t jumping to conclusions, and sure enough, there was only one arm chair, one dining chair and the one desk chair he was currently sitting in.

He was utterly alone.

Her heart wrenched for him. It wasn’t that she’d never made that connection before, but it was only now that the full implication of it hit her that she really understood what that meant.

And it was a brutal realization.

No one in any message ever asked him how he was doing or bothered with friendly chitchat. No more so than any of the people they had passed in the hallway. He’d been gone for over a week, tortured, beaten, and almost killed, and there was no one asking him where he’d been. No one worried that something might have happened to him.

I should warn you, you’ll starve to death long before anyone misses me and thinks to come here to see if I’m all right. His words echoed in her head. He hadn’t been joking that night in his apartment.

That was what he’d meant by not having distractions. No one ever bothered to talk to him. Spend time with him.

He was alone.

While he and Caillen were friends, they didn’t really spend that much time together.

And to think, she’d spent years bemoaning the fact that she couldn’t have five minutes of peace without one of her siblings either calling her or stopping by.

If she’d ever left without telling one of them exactly where she was and when she’d be back, they would take turns jumping all over her.

Syn had never known that.

No one ever missed him. Except for Vik, who was lying next the computer where Syn worked. How sad that the one thing to miss him most was a robot he’d created in his childhood.

Because he had no other friend . . .

Shahara swallowed the sudden lump in her throat. How lonely it must be. How tragic that a man so giving had no one but strangers to give to.