Light From Uncommon Stars(74)

Lan had thought that one could not get more familiar than exact copies from a replicator. The sprinkled donuts were identical down to the last sprinkle.

But the full racks of cold éclairs and maple bars didn’t lie.

And then there was Markus. What was she going to do about him? When he woke up in the morning, he’d think this was a dream. A nightmare.

But, as Lan knew all too well, nightmares always return.



* * *



“Shizuka, Shizuka, Shizuka,” Tremon chuckled. “You’re still the Queen of Hell.”

The two of them were at a French patisserie in Arcadia. Tremon sipped his coffee and tasted the mille-feuille. He put his fork down and applauded.

“This is wonderful. My compliments to the ma?tre patissier.”

“I’ll tell him. And yes, he studied in Paris at Len?tre.” The server smiled and scurried away.

“And to you, Shizuka, as well. I doubt that I could have done better with her.” He inhaled another bite of pastry. “So fresh, so sweet. Damning souls can be such thankless work. They plead, they curse—even though they swore they would do anything for fame.”

Tremon pointed with his fork.

“But trust the Queen of Hell to find a grateful transgender runaway from an abusive home. Ha! Talk about paying your debts on the cheap.”

Before Shizuka could reply, a spotless Asian man came out and greeted Tremon in fluent French. Tremon’s eyes widened, and they had a long animated conversation, which ended with Tremon getting up from his chair and patting the chef on the back.

The pastry chef smiled and strode proudly away.

“With his skills, this man could be working in Europe,” the demon declared. “But I suppose it’s like music. You can find gems in the most improbable places. You are quite the priceless gem yourself, remember?”

“Ah, Tremon, that was a long time ago.”

He snorted. “Silly girl. Your music is timeless. The world will love to hear you play again.”

For a moment, the Queen of Hell did not know what to say.

“So, shall we give her the bow and sign the deal? I believe we have more than enough to work with.”

“I still have six months, Tremon,” Shizuka said suddenly.

“Is there an issue?”

“Of course not. This is my soul we’re discussing. But we have time. And besides, wouldn’t you like a more polished product?”

Tremon looked like he was about to say something, then stopped himself.

“Shizuka … It’s a shame that you had to be beautiful,” he finally said.

“Tremon?”

He bowed, then got up and left.

Shizuka smiled uncomfortably. But her body shook, as if recovering from stage fright. What was going on? There was no problem. She had time. Katrina still had more to learn.

No.

Don’t be stupid, Satomi. Tremon was right. This was business.

Hell, it was more than business. This was her soul at stake, her music, everything she was.

So why couldn’t she just say yes?

She slowed her breathing, smelled the lovely coffee. Finally, the Queen of Hell felt steady enough to leave.

She asked for the check, but of course, Tremon had put everything on his tab.



* * *



Katrina stared at her screen.

In one night, her Axxiom video had over one thousand views. Now, in a week, her total views had gone over ten thousand.

She held a pillow to her face and screamed.





24


Edwin Tran and Windee Tran. It was such a cliché, but could twins be any more different? Windee was precocious, technical, brilliant. Lanny was training Windee to work the counter, tune the warp filaments, adjust the replicators; every day she seemed to be working on a different facet of operations. Even now, Floresta could see that Lanny envisioned her as a future command officer.

But Edwin had neither the aptitude nor interest for warp or replicator science. And although he was kindhearted and considerate, he struggled for words, leaving customers confused and compromising service efficiency. Thus, Lanny left Edwin to cleaning up and helping Floresta in what she felt were the nonessential activities of the kitchen.

Oh, that Lanny. The girl was a wonderful scientist and starship captain. But sometimes she forgot that this was not a starship.

There were essential differences between a captaining a lone starship delivering a refugee family to a faraway planet and running a donut shop dedicated to bringing tasty treats to the people of El Monte. And these differences were beginning to hurt the shop, the crew, and most of all, Edwin.

Out of all the children, Floresta believed Edwin was born for making donuts. Sure, he was not the best with conversation. His mind was not as flashy as Windee’s, and of course he couldn’t match Markus’s engineering prowess. But no one, not even Shirley, perceived what customers wanted the way Edwin did.

It was Edwin who suggested filling the front area with music, played not too loudly, but at a volume that would make customers feel welcome to sit down and have conversation. He suggested they move the drink refrigerator to the front of the counter, where it could be stocked with cold soda, sparkling water, and especially, old-fashioned dairy bottles of regular and chocolate milk.

“I notice that whenever they see the milk, the customers smile,” he said. “So this way, they can be smiling sooner.”