“What’s that got to do with sleeping on my sofa?”
“Remember what I told you about my job collecting new elements?”
“Yes,” she said. “For product development.”
“Sometimes we find one that’s too unstable for fuel but perfect for blowing things up. When that happens, my father destroys the sample and deletes all the data from our archives. He says he doesn’t want to be responsible for creating the next weapon of mass destruction.”
“And that’s what you think Infinium is?”
“It makes sense,” Doran said. “I think my father discovered something dangerous, and the Solar League got their hands on it. That’s why he sent his men to steal it from the transport and why he sent me to the fringe. Maybe he wants me to destroy what’s left of Infinium before the League finds it.”
“A government conspiracy?” she asked. “That’s a little far-fetched, isn’t it?”
“Have you got a better idea?”
“Actually, I do.” She rolled onto her side to face him. “Let’s quit talking about Infinium and enjoy our shore leave.”
When her amber-green eyes locked on his and she unleashed that dimpled smile, all of Doran’s worries dissolved the way springtime melted the last dregs of winter. As he lay so close to her in the soft grass, their hands linked between them, it was easy to forget everything but the dusting of freckles on her cheeks and the scent of powdered sugar on her breath. His heart ticked to a new rhythm, one that warned he was in trouble. Because this girl had left a mark on him, deep down where time wouldn’t erase it.
He used his free hand to cup her chin. “I’ll visit you.”
“Promise?”
“Just try to keep me away.”
Relief flickered on her face, and it warmed him inside to know that he’d left a mark on her, too. “Now back to our shore leave,” he said. “What should we do next?”
She unlinked their fingers and pushed to standing, then peered across the schoolyard toward the town square. “I heard there’s a hayride around here somewhere. Want to check it out? I’m too full for anything else.”
“All right. But on the way, let’s walk down the vendor street again.” He wanted a souvenir of this perfect day, a physical memento to hold when Solara’s hand was on Vega.
“What are you looking for?” she asked.
He lifted a shoulder. “I’ll know it when I see it.”
But after making a full pass along the vendor tables, he hadn’t spent a single chip. There was no shortage of goods for sale—wood-carved figurines, ceremonial knives, handmade candies, body art, and every type of jewelry imaginable.
None of it reminded him of Solara.
They crossed paths with Kane, who was haggling over the price of the Eturian prayer necklace that’d caught Cassia’s eye that morning. Kane had obviously returned to the ship for more money, because he opened a pouch of fuel chips for the vendor to see. The poor bastard really had it bad. Doran decided not to interrupt them. Instead, he veered away and led Solara to the town churchyard.
Once there, they climbed aboard a wooden skid padded with fresh straw and hitched to a hovercraft that had seen better days. The craft lifted them into the air just high enough for their dangling feet to skim the tops of the tall weeds, then it set off at an easy pace. They sat with their shoulders touching, swaying together as the hovercraft towed them through the field and into the woods beyond. Doran never thought he would enjoy something so simple as a slow glide through the trees, but when the ride was done, he paid for them to go again.
Once the sun dipped below the horizon and two moons arose to take its place, they walked to the community center, which was decorated like a barn with hay bales, wood planks, and a scattering of straw on the floor. The dance was already in full swing, filling the night air with a chorus of fiddles and stomping feet, along with the musky odor of too many bodies in one place.
A young man slouched near the entrance, both arms folded across his chest and clearly unhappy with the job of collecting admission while his friends were inside. But he perked up when he spotted Solara, grinning and wagging his eyebrows. “Hey,” he said. “Want to have some fun?”
Doran frowned at the guy and settled a hand at the base of Solara’s spine. “That’s why we’re here.”
Unfazed, the local extended a hand, palm up. “Good. That’ll be three bits.” After receiving payment, he dug into his pocket and produced a leather pouch, then handed them each a piece of dried apple. “Enjoy,” he said, and waved them inside.