Aurora Rising (The Aurora Cycle #1)(75)

I keep my search methodical, working through each grid square, until finally I find him. He’s got all four hands in the air, waving them in time to the bone-shaking beat, razor-sharp teeth bared in a wild grin. He’s surrounded by what I can only describe as a harem, a dozen beautiful young things of a dozen different species, male and female, both and neither, all clustered around him. They’re dancing along with him, turned toward him like maza flowers to the sun.

Beyond them is a ring of security personnel I’d safely describe as terrifying. They’re Chellerian like Bianchi—big and blue, with more teeth than head. Their muscles barely fit into the suits they’re wearing, and given the quality of Bianchi’s tailors, that’s probably a deliberate choice. They stand in the crowd around their boss, four eyes apiece watching the throng, suspicious bulges in their jackets.

“Okay, kids,” I tell my team. “Bianchi’s in the northwest corner. The amount of security he’s got around him, there’s only one way you’re getting close.”

“And that is?” Goldenboy asks.

“Dance like there’s ass in your pants.”

“On it,” Ty says without hesitation, grabbing Aurora’s hand and hauling her into the crowd. I can just make out her squeak over the low thud of the music.

Scarlett and Cat stay by the aquarium a moment longer. Scarlett’s studying the others who line the wall, but on her micro-cam I can pick up the nearest fish on the periphery, and now Dariel’s got me looking at the damn things, too.

Casseldon Bianchi really does have one of every species in the galaxy, as best I can tell. This fish is serpentine, two meters long, as fiery orange as Scarlett’s hair. The real party trick, though, is the pair of huge venom sacs on either side of its face, each one bigger than its head, giving it the appearance of wildly ballooning cheeks. Its white eyes bulge, as if it’s as surprised by this development as I am.

Cat, on the other hand, is staring straight at our Alpha and our stowaway, like she has been all night.

I don’t like where this kind of fixation leads. We already saw one outburst, and even after she slunk back to Dariel’s den smelling like Larassian semptar, there’s been an uneasiness about her.

“Uh, Zero,” I say. “Can you give me a sweep of the room?”

She obliges, turning in a two-hundred-and-seventy-degree arc, giving me a good look at the crowd. There’s nothing to be seen that I couldn’t pick up through the overhead cams, but as expected, our infallible Face doesn’t miss the cue in my tone. She turns her attention back to the Ace beside her.

“Why should they have all the fun?” Scarlett asks, suddenly grabbing Cat by the hand, pulling her out into the crowd.

Cat’s spluttering, and Scarlett’s laughing, and despite the tension zinging through me, I grin, too. Scarlett has a great laugh. And now she’s sweeping our pilot into her arms, and dipping her over backward in an extravagant move.

There are so many different species here that everyone’s dancing in their own way. In ones and twos and tens, hands linked, bodies intertwined or not touching at all. After five years at Aurora Academy, the hallways only ever populated by Terrans, Betraskans, and recently the odd Syldrathi, I’m not as used to this kind of mixing bowl as I used to be. I grew up with my grandparents on a station like this, and I love it.

I’ve missed it.

Scarlett and Cat have struck up the most ridiculous dance now, joined hands pushing out in front of them.

“What are you doing?” I laugh down the line.

“A tango. Traditional Terran dance, very romantic,” Scarlett tells me, though Cat’s laughter makes me wonder if they’re even close to how it’s supposed to go.

Goldenboy and Aurora really don’t know how to dance together, but they’re both picking it up by sneaking looks at the crowd around them, and it’s kind of satisfying to see there’s something he’s not instantly on top of. But more importantly, they’re getting closer and closer to one Casseldon Bianchi.

“Okay, you need to get near enough for me to snatch the signal,” I tell them as I sweep the cameras again, looking for trouble. “Not so close that those goons decide to bite your head off. Remember—”

“One meter,” Ty and Auri chorus together.

“They can be taught!”

Zila speaks up on comms. “Finian, is this appropriate positioning?”

I flick my gaze across to my other screen. Crap, they’re at the grav-generators already. I gotta keep juggling, gotta keep all my balls in the air.

Heh, balls in the air.

“That looks good,” I say. “Charges need to go on the secondary buffer.”

“I am aware,” Zila agrees.

“There’s a second patrol heading in your direction,” I say, “You might wanna have a plan to deal with them in case they notice those missing guards and stick their heads into the gen room. A distraction of some kind, maybe.”

“Kal, did you brush your teeth this morning?” Tyler asks over comms.

“Thankfully I do not think it will come to that,” Kal replies.

Tyler laughs in answer and I hear Auri ask him what’s so funny. I make a mental note to ask him myself. Later. For now, I’m busy.

“Set remote detonators and leg it back here,” I tell Zila and Kal.