Destiny's Song (The Fixers, book #1: A KarmaCorp Novel) by Audrey Faye Read Free Book Online Page B

chords.”
    “I wasn’t born yesterday.” Tameka was quick-marching me down the oversized walkways that funneled space traffic through climate-controlled tubes out into the ecoverse of Bromelain III. “I’ve got you a full supply of Singer-approved meal packs, and your roommate was kind enough to provide me a list of some of your favorite recipes in case you’d rather eat the real thing.”
    I felt my eyebrows fly up into my hairline. “You cook? And you talked to Tee?” Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who conducted my research through unorthodox channels.
    “A lovely young lady.” My host turned abruptly left. “Here, we can sneak out this way and avoid most of the lines.”
    Those lines were the dreaded torture otherwise known as interplanetary customs. Even in tiny spaceports, they were living hell. “Don’t we have to clear the wardens first?”
    She grinned. “You’re awfully law abiding for a Singer.”
    I’d heard tales about Tameka’s generation of Fixers. “You guys messed it up for the rest of us—there are a lot more rules now.”
    That seemed to amuse her more than anything I’d said so far. “We didn’t have Yesenia regularly kicking our balls in. I hear she rides you guys pretty hard.”
    I knew better than to complain about the boss. “She runs a tight ship, but she’s always been fair.”
    My host nodded, and I imagined I saw approval in her eyes. “I’ve heard that, too.”
    “Get a lot of Fixer traffic way out here?” She seemed awfully knowledgeable about how to feed, soothe, and kidnap us.
    Tameka ducked through the silky folds of an egress tunnel and beckoned me to follow. “More than you might think.”
    That wasn’t something my mission briefing had noted. “Recent activity?”
    She snorted. “You know the rules, Singer. I feed you, give you a basic orientation so you don’t commit any big cultural fuck-ups during your stay here, and then I stand back and let you gather your own impressions.”
    She was impossible not to like. “You’re awfully law abiding for a retired old fart.”
    Her laugh carried all the way to the end of the tunnel and bounced back at us. “Yesenia didn’t send me a tame one this time.” She looked up at me as she put her hand on the egress door. “Good. You’ll need those sharp edges, I think.”
    That didn’t bode well.
    Then the door opened and I stopped worrying about what might happen tomorrow. A vista of undulating greens and yellows stretched as far as the eye could see. Notes rose in my throat, worshipful and unbidden.
    Tameka was watching me again with those keen eyes. “This view’s better than the one out the front doors of the space terminal.”
    It was staggering. “I’ve never seen anything like it—are those your grasslands?”
    “The very edges of them.”
    The landscape moved like an ocean in slow motion, twisting in a mesmerizing dance as winds caressed grasses and the grasses rose up to meet them. I wanted to touch. Heck, I wanted to run into the vast expanse and play a cosmic game of hide-and-seek with the wind.
    Tameka smiled, and I felt like I’d passed some kind of important test. “Now you know why a retired old fart like me lives here.” She lifted her hand and waved at a hovering bubblepod. “Here’s our ride.”
    I was pretty sure my ride was just getting started. “You have enough solar to power private vehicles?” By my standards, that made Bromelain III a pretty rich planet.
    “Lots of sun here. And wind.” Tameka ran her palm over the lock and clambered inside a lot more spryly than I managed after four days of tin canning. “And my little piece of the planet has a lovely underground spring, so we’ve got some micro-hydro hooked up too—that’s how we power Nijinsky here.”
    I blinked. “Your b-pod has a name?”
    “Certainly.”
    Curiosity gets me, every damn last time. “And who or what was Nijinsky?”
    “The greatest dancer who ever lived. He loved to defy gravity.” Tameka