Bay's Star Continues - Part 2
Sometimes in the Story, Bay played a female character, Princess, who lives on a futuristic planet in a galaxy with a whole population ready to take flight, in great exoduses, from an incurable plague.
Sometime she played Roland, a male space scoundrel who falls in love with Princess.
The Story jumped around in time and chronology; it was a gamble when and where in the storyline Bay would go, and it must depend on which pill she took. Each little sphere contained a pre-programmed little nexus in the Story web.
This one seemed early in the sequence. It was one of those times Roland was nowhere in sight, and Bay wondered if she would spend the entire halfer just trying to find him. The tension was dreamlike in that way. Frustrating.
Yet she seemed to be addicted to the frustration.
Bay found herself in Princess's body, which was running down the enclosed streets of Mars Crimon. She recognized the surroundings from the many times she had left and arrived at Bar Volo. The narrator voice described the same setting she could see with her own eyes.
"Outside the bar it was night. A starry, starry night illusion that had been cast on the outer hull of the space station, and Ela Ray was grateful whoever was in charge of the sky didn't go for something more apocalyptic. Storms or impenetrable fog would have worsened and amplified the panic in the streets."
One of a mob running along the gangway bumped Princess's elbow at precisely the moment that best illustrated the point. Yes, the sky was calm, and the people in the streets were insane. Ela "Princess" Ray moved fast, racing past storefronts and under a pedestrian bridge and through a tunnel, but so did everyone else. Despite the massive hoard that darted in unpredictable directions at strange and unexpected times — or stopped suddenly without looking back first — Ela had an ability to stay out of anyone else's way. Her body's reactions were as quick as Bay's mind when she was on top of her game, and she loved playing optimization games. Which lights to stop at and recover, how to jaywalk efficiently and safely, anticipating the sudden movements of the idiots with whom she shared the road. She dodged, pivoted, and maneuvered across the station while the narrator kept up his commentary of distracting reflection:
"Sometimes Ela wished humans could be more like ants. Just a little bit more orderly, more aware of each other. Not that she would make everyone march in rows, say, if, say, she were made a dictator who would enforce such rules. But a general sense of decent traffic conduct would be nice."
Ahead of Princess some marching technicians in slate gray engineer's jumpsuits with matching youthful ponytails were marching a little too slow for her. A split second before the person in front of Princess dropped suddenly to the ground — as if to pick up a dropped coin or magic device — Bay had been ready to dart right and accelerate to get around the slow-moving pair, while the right lane ahead was open. And Bay still enacted the maneuver, speeding around the technician in a spacer engineer's jumpsuit — who had dropped, but when she glanced back over her shoulder she caught a glimpse of a mass of pedestrians trampling right over the trchnician who had been in their blindspot before Princess had moved out of the way.
The narrator chimed in, "Someone was going to get hurt, and it wasn't going to be Princess."
Wow, cutthroat. But Bay had no intention of redirecting Princess to go back. Onward might lead to Roland eventually.
And it wasn't like this was real.
The narrator kept on describing what she could see with her own two eyes. "Plenty of stores were abandoned, boarded up. Inside both the defunct ones and those with the lights on, desperate tribes swiped what they could and went to battle with each other over boxes of cereal and chickpea cans. Ela had learned a long time ago to stock up, and not just nonperishables. When you could get fresh produce, tomatoes and potatoes, leafy greens and the occasional bushel of apples, you ate heartily and stored it cold.
"Sometimes she had the chance to make preserves; dried or fried or baked fruits and vegetable chips, spiced jerky. Even jam could satisfy a hunger pain. Who'd have thought apocalypse would hone her skill at jarring delicacies."
Good grief, did Bay really have to listen to this? Precious time on her halfer was wasting, and she didn't need the worldbuilding, thanks.
She'd lived Princess's life before and after this moment, eaten her salted dried cranberry peanut mix, sampled her rhubarb preserve, gnawed on jerky with no clue what animal, real or imagined, it came from. The narrator added, "She knew for damned sure it would have taken nothing short of the apocalypse to teach her to bake and make jam."
Bay kept jogging ahead in hopes of getting somewhere, anywhere good before this dose was up. Some doses were just duds.
Morning shifts at the Cloud were Bay's favorite. To save on levitation spell fees overnight, Yue would park the cafe at a lot down the block at closing. Rent for a parking spot cost significantly less than magic by the minute, particularly in city where unlimited three dimensional real estate was on the market.
Opening consisted of showing her face for recognition at dawn (even after a late night shift) and actualizing the piloting program from the Stellar while Yue put finishing touches on pastries made by hand, sans magic. The baker's secret was to perfect the recipe the old fashioned way, bake from scratch every night, and only use magic to enhance the flavors and perfect the textures.
Bay took one caramelized pan dulce to taste. It crunched in the right places and the middle was butter soft.
Every morning she worked, she'd settle in for takeoff with a pastel as the cafe lifted from the ground and soared over smaller landed edifices.
Impala didn't ordinarily work mornings. Her sponsa, Luz, had just had a child, and Yue let her stay home with the mother and baby most mornings — in lieu of parental leave. That's why Bay jumped when Impala's whisper sounded right in her ear. "We gotta talk, Bay."
Bay didn't turn from the idyllic view. Eternal life would be squandered if you took things like the view of downtown Soliara from the Cloud for granted. Out of the side of her mouth, Bay said, "It might be better if we didn't, if you think about it. It might be best if we're never seen conspiring together — now that I've been trusted with surveillance link oversight."
"It's only suspicious if you make it. We're friends. We talk." Yes, but they shouldn't talk here. It was Bay's mistake, though, not to just go somewhere and speak with Impala, or invite her to go somewhere away from the jurisdiction of Yue's surveillance. What if Yue checked on this moment herself? Bay should have been speaking in code the whole time.
No time like the present to start. "Look, I know the immortality fees for the new baby are high, and I know you want the best for little Cancioncita," only after it had come out of her mouth did she realize that was redundant, little little Canción, "But this job has steady pay. You should stay. There's opportunity for upward mobility, you could be a top host, or line cook, or sommelier. And I can't talk about this now, I got work to do." Phew. That recovery was long winded.
"There's one thing I want to run past you while you're not working, because you're currently munching on pan dulce." Oh dear stars, was she going to take the hint, or not so much?
"Not now. Let's grab Benicio's for lunch. Talk then."
"Look Bay, you're right, I want stability. I'm not going to rock the boat, you don't have to worry about that. It's just that people can change their minds, right? It's still in their power to change their minds. You know what I mean?"
Bay looked out the window and munched on the sweet. It was a savory bread, like a donut or a youtiao but not fried, more like a little baked loaf of bread — topped with straight confectioner's sugar. Ala had been on and on about the same for weeks. Girl refused to see they had a good thing going here. She refused to just be happy.
"Yep, we can all change our minds. When the time is right, any of us might make a different choice," said Bay.
The time was not now. Now, things were finally going well for Bay. Finally she could see a way forward. Finally her checking account was growing. If this kept up, she might open a savings account — she might have enough to not pay monthly fees. Work was fine, the surveillance job was cushy. She had a little extra for Story a couple of times a week.
If she stuck to her budget, this time next year she could afford tuition to magician's college. And finally, finally, things were getting better with Song. "We'll talk over quisillos and sopa aguada, my treat," said Bay. But she was not going to change her mind.
That's all I got for now! Thanks for checking it out! Your support and feedback on the story mean a lot to me as I continue to polish these stories. The book needs to go on hold for a little while now. But Bay's star episode II will be completed one day! Stay tuned (or tune back, as the case may be!) Feel free to let me know which story lines most interested you guys and if I left any threads hanging, anything you were dying to see unfold. Best to all of you 💜
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