Page 80 of Smuggler's Beauty

“Which is why you’re . . . Oh, what was it? ‘Acquisitions specialists and facilitators?’” Evelyn made finger quotes and grinned.

“We have lines. We don’t like to cross them. We’re willing to sacrifice a payday if the job feels wrong, or is going to gosouth. The Twins . . . They’re only focused on completing their contracts,” Aiden said grimly. “We had a disagreement.”

“But clearly not too big a disagreement to refuse a comm call?” Evelyn dipped a chunk of roll in the soup. “Lillian is a wizard. I didn’t even know I liked squash.”

“There’s a reason she called Tariel. He’s the most reasonable of us,” Veronique said. She walked to the stove and turned the kettle on. “Tea?”

Evelyn nodded and took another spoonful of soup. Aiden shook his head. If he took in any more liquid, he’d start to slosh.

“So do we freak out now or proceed as planned? Is this panic soup?”

“Proceed as planned. If they knew where we were, they wouldn’t have called, they’d have attempted to board the ship,” Aiden said. “We’re just going to have to be more cautious than normal — which is pretty cautious. We are discreet facilitators.”

Evelyn lifted her eyebrows. “Your cover is a party vessel.”

“Adiscreetparty vessel.”

Evelyn smiled, shook her head, and scraped up the last of her soup with a chunk of crusty roll as Veronique set a mug of tea in front of her.

“Lillian and I have a strategy in mind for the dissemination of our material,” Veronique said. “She’s looking into the servers that distribute media on planet and within the sister system, picking the best places to drop our videos. We want to do a few teasers, for lack of a better term, before we go with the loop of your declaration. I want to get some of your favorite things about Tanalia on tape.”

“All my favorite things about Tanalia are about a century out of date,” Evelyn said, biting her bottom lip. “Won’t that be sort of out of touch?”

“Not out of touch, more of a throwback to yesteryear. You can speak to the planet that many of the current inhabitants can’t even fathom anymore after so many decades of occupation.”

“You’re thinking highlighting the way the planet used to be will give them something real to focus on?”

“Exactly. It’s different when you can get a living history lesson.” Veronique held up her communicator. “Can I just set this to record? Just talk about the Tanalia you remember?”

Evelyn nodded. Veronique pressed the button on the communicator screen. Evelyn blew on her tea and took a sip. And then, she started to speak.

She spoke about the opera house in the capital of Tanalia, where actors performed traditional plays, where poets read their work, and orchestras played concertos.

She spoke about watching her father walk through farms, seeing the crops flourish under his touch, the joy in farmer’s faces when they explained their new cross breeds of apples. How much it thrilled them to experiment with growing conditions and fertilization factors, a creative aspect of agriculture Aiden had never considered.

She spoke about the debates scientists would have on the quad of the university, and how their family would Amplify their research to settle questions that raised still more questions and sparked further discoveries.

She spoke with pride about the fact that no Tanalian was raised to think that they didn’t have a place in the universe, that everyone had their own spark that was essential to life and happiness, and that nurturing it was the whole point of their society.

Evelyn spoke long after her mug was empty. When her voice started to crack, she said, “That’s all I can think of right now,” and rubbed at her throat.

Veronique patted her hand and stopped recording. “Thank you. For what it’s worth, it sounds to me like a planet worth fighting for.”

Evelyn smiled. “I think so.”

Aiden was determined to get it back for her. What was ending a hundred years of enemy occupation? Surely people had done harder things for love.

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

Veronique walkedEvelyn to the concealed room that Cairn used as a potting shed. Aiden had parted ways with them in the kitchen, heading off to see his mothers and look over the data Mathias had brought them from Tanalia.

“Go be great. I’ll find you in a bit,” he’d said, with a gentle kiss on the forehead. Evelyn had basically floated across the lobby to Cairn’s secret plant cave.

The small cuttings were arranged neatly on a table. Evelyn could swear they looked fuller than they had only a few days ago. Could plants grow new leaves that swiftly? Horticulture had never been her wheelhouse. She was allergic to too many plants — or “the outside,” as her childhood doctor had said — to ever really bother cultivating a green thumb.

Cairn had his back to them, elbow deep in rich, black soil. He seemed to be transferring it from bin to bin aimlessly, but as Evelyn got closer, she could see differences in the textures of the various elements he was scooping.

“Is that my beautiful wife I hear?”