Space Junque Read Online Free

groan, groan. "I didn't realize I was flying with royalty."
    So confusing. Jake defended ghosts and ridiculed quarantines. But he was no rebel; he despised the DOGs. And his father was the Emperor.
    "Merely royalty's bastard, ma'am." He spread his arms and bowed, like he had done down below. "Your boyfriend Mike is closer to the Emperor than I'll ever be. Don't be impressed."
    "I'll force myself not to adore you." But she already liked him. "And Mike isn't my boyfriend. He's my sister's fiancé."
    Jake leaned back in his chair, seemingly lost in thought. He flipped a few more switches on the console and handed Char's com back to her. "So you want to see my   Junque ?"
    She wrapped the com over her ear and smiled. "I thought I already had."

Hell Comes Knocking
     
    The soap was scented with lavender, the shampoo with ylang-ylang. But the marvelous thing was the water. Glorious clean hot liquid pulsed over Char's shoulders and down her back. Three cheers for artificial gravity!
    Windows in the bath and the bedroom looked out on the space side of the station. Beautiful when she didn't think about it. Terrifying when she did. Sky had raved about this view of the stars.
    No Mike yet. He'd left a message:   Take as long as you like in the shower, then meet me at the Blue Marble .
    How did they do it? Down below, at least in the Pacific Zone, personal water was limited to seven gallons a week, including what you drank. The station's hydroponics annex must have turned out amazing.
    Her suite was like a cave in a fairy tale, not buried in the earth, but suspended at the cusp of space. Little bits of treasure were scattered about. The scented soaps. A ceramic cistern of cold water. A bowl of raspberries. A box of makeup with the seals unbroken.
    She dipped a sable brush in brick-colored mineral powder. She hadn't painted her face in ages, and now she went all the way with eyeliner and shadow and lip gloss.
    The closet was full of new clothes. Ugh. Everything was styled toward the slutty, but it all looked like it would fit. She selected blood red hemp flight pants and a black top with capped sleeves and a stand-up collar. The colors set off her black hair and blue eyes.
    She was meeting Mike on the planet side of the station. She programmed   Blue Marble   into her suite's compad, and as she walked through the corridors green lights flashed to indicate the turns. They led to an elevator with   Ppod   written beside the door.
    Inside the elevator a pleasant male voice said, "Hand anchors are provided for your safety and comfort." The artificial gravity kicked off. Char noticed the hand-holds in the walls, but she preferred the free-floating experience. The utter relaxation of weightlessness was lovely.
    Until the AG kicked back on and she hit the floor. She didn't fall, but it was a shock to the knees.
    "You have arrived at your destination," said the pleasant male voice. The elevator opened at the entrance to the Blue Marble. There had been no sense of movement or feeling for the distance she'd traveled.
    Char's relaxed mood returned as she heard the music coming from the bar. Either the singer had programmed the legendary Queen Latifah into her mic or she was doing a fantastic natural imitation.
    The entire floor of the Blue Marble bar was clear, a window to the world below. Char had the sense she was walking on air, and it took a moment for her to believe she wasn't going to fall.
    Mike kissed her cheek. "You're as beautiful as ever."
    He wasn't bad-looking himself. His light brown hair was brushed straight up with the tips bleached blond. It made him seem more daring, less bureaucratic. He wrapped his arms around her and rocked her, his chest broader than she remembered. It felt wonderful -- too wonderful. He must have confused her with Sky.
    "You've been working out." She pulled away and tried to act casual.
    "I wish." His face was flushed. "There's never time."
    He was using enhancements, then. Yes. His once-hazel eyes had