“Nico? So, he’s not your child, or Dante’s?”
“He’s ours in every way that matters.”
“Then he’s a lucky boy.”
“I think I’m the lucky one.” Tyra smiled, the expression crinkling her eyes at the corners. “And that’s enough about me. This visit is supposed to be about you. Would you like to try these on alone, or would you rather have some company?”
She’d had enough of being alone. “Stay, please.”
“I’m happy to.” Tyra gestured to the bags. “Point me to the bedroom and we’ll start trying these on. They’re custom tailored, but some of them will still look better than others.”
“Custom? How?”
Tyra gave her a mischievous look, her dark eyes sparkling. “How many medical scans have you undergone in the last week? I might have liberated the data on your measurements, for a good cause, of course. And, I was told you are now considered a guest here, which means you’re on Nova Force’s expense account.”
Nyx stared at the woman, then the bags. Part of her was itching to empty them out and see what Tyra had bought, but she had misgivings. If she kept letting people into her life, things would get messy.
Things are already messy. Come on, think it through. You’ve agreed to go out for dinner. If you don’t do this with Tyra, what are you going to wear tonight? More workout gear?
“So? Bedroom?” Tyra glanced around, then frowned. “Wait a second. There’s only one door, and I’m guessing from the steam lingering around it that’s where your shower is. So, where do you sleep?”
Instead of answering, Nyx stepped to an open stretch of wall and touched a switch set into it. Part of the floor rolled back, and a neatly-made single bed rose from the floor, locking into position at right angles to the wall. “It’s a multi-functional space. At least, that’s how Trinity explained it to me when she gave me the tour.” She shrugged. “It was a very short tour.”
“They’ve had you cooped up in here all this time? Someone needs to remind Colonel Bahl and Archer that we’re supposed to be the good guys. This isn’t much better than a prison cell.” Tyra stopped mid-rant, her eyes wide. “Sorry. That was a poor choice of words. But this? This isn’t right.”
“It’s fine. And honestly, it’s a lot nicer than the last three cells I had. There’s food, and blankets, and a soft place to sleep. I’m in control of the temperature, the lights. And I’ve got books to read. Vids to watch.”
Tyra huffed. “It still sucks harder than a black hole. And the décor is…ugh. Why does the military think that everything needs to be painted gray?”
Nyx looked around. The doctor was right. Everything around her was gray or white. The walls, the floors, even the blankets on her bed.
Tyra grabbed one of the bags and upended it, spilling the contents onto the bed in a rainbow.
There were tops, pants, dresses, and skirts in a variety of cuts, colors, and fabrics. Words attached themselves to some of the cloth, programmed information she’d never needed to access until now. There was a dress of red Keski silk and a top made from velvet so soft her fingers left marks as she moved her hand over it. “Where do I even start?”
“We start with a mirror. Then, I think you should try this one on.” Tyra handed her a dress from the pile. It was a shimmering blue-green color, and the fabric was so soft it flowed through her fingers like cool water.
“Computer, reflective surface, main wall.” The flat gray surface rippled from top to bottom, transforming into a mirror that took up most of the wall.
“Basic AI interface? Nice to know they gave you that much.” Tyra took a seat and gestured. “So, put it on. I think that one’s going to knock Eric out of orbit.”
“It’s just dinner.”
Tyra laughed. “That’s what I said, too. And now I’m living with him.”
A pang of envy, sharp and hot, sliced through her. Tyra had a good life, with love, laughter, and friends. Nyx couldn’t see a future like that. Not for her. She wasn’t even sure she deserved a life like Tyra’s. None of her clones had gotten that chance. She was a killer with a limited skill set, and she only planned on putting those skills to use one more time. Once Absalom was dead, she wouldn’t need to do anything else.
“I’m not sure that’s in the cards for me.” She stripped out of the simple t-shirt and shorts she’d been wearing and slipped the dress over her head, letting the cool fabric slide over her skin like a caress.
“Life’s funny. It can sneak up on you while you’re busy making other plans.” There was a pause, then, “Oh, wow. That dress is stunning on you.”
She looked at the mirror and made a tiny sound of shock as she saw her reflection and barely recognized the woman standing there. The dress was styled perfectly, molding to her newly acquired curves without feeling restrictive or uncomfortable, and the color was beautiful, like the pictures she’d seen of oceans.
For the first time in her life, she felt beautiful. It had never mattered before. As a soldier and test subject, she didn’t think about her appearance. What would be the point? She’d been forged as a weapon and used as a tool, but she was more than that now. She was a woman as well as a warrior, beautiful as well as strong.
She ran a hand over the dress, smoothing the fabric over her midriff. “I hardly recognize myself right now. I’m definitely going to wear this tonight.” She looked over the rest of the garments. “I guess the rest can go back. I don’t need to try on anything else.”
Tyra shook her head. “Nope. These are all yours, bought and paid for. Commander Rossi approved the purchase already.” She gestured to the stack, then to the other bag, still sitting on the floor. “That bag has an assortment of shoes, a killer pair of boots, and non-regulation underwear. IAF standard-issue undies won’t work with that dress. Practical has its place, but sometimes, a girl has got to go with satin and lace.”
“If you say so.” She’d never worn underwear until recently.
“Try a pair on. You’ll see.” Tyra rose to her feet. “In fact, you do that now, and I’m going to go find us both something to drink. Please tell me they’ve loaded your food dispenser with a decent wine selection, or I’m going to have to call Dante for a delivery.”
“I don’t know how good it is, but there’s wine.”
“Perfect. I’ll be right back.”
Nyx carefully undressed and took a moment to hang the dress in her almost empty closet. Then she grabbed the other bag and emptied it onto the bed, forming a second pile of shoes and scraps of fabric that were more lace than substance.
“These aren’t garments, they’re frothy bits of nothing.”
“Exactly. Extremely impractical, and designed to make any male lose his mind the moment he sees them.” Tyra called from the far side of the room.
“Eric is not seeing these. It’s just dinner.”
“This is your first date, right?” Tyra asked.
“Right.” She had memories of going out with Eric, but they belonged to Echo. The furies had seduced men and even a few women, and she had parts of those recollections, too. They weren’t hers, though. She wasn’t living vicariously anymore. Tonight, she’d make her own memories, while there was still time.