The living light above her waved its glowing filaments gently; in this, it was like all things in the world, in tune with the stars, seasons, sun, and sea. She responded to the gradually increasing illumination by opening her impossibly blue eyes, blinking peacefully, slowly awake, welcoming the new day with the same tranquility with which she had welcomed slumber the evening before.Her soft, still-drowsy gaze took in the warm pink and coral hues of her bedchamber. Light spilled down the curving staircase, and the shiny surfaces of the enormous shell's walls and ceiling picked up the gleam and suffused the room with rosy brightness.Her skin caught the light, too; a white that was so much more than a stark, single color. It was decorated with images that changed shape as her moods did: art of the spirit.Pale and celestial-seeming as moonlight, her smooth, soft skin held every color of the rainbow blended into a pearlescent, ever-shifting, subtle glow.She was Lïho-Minaa, and she was

Was there time, even now? It would be but the work of a few seconds—But her death, the death of the world, was approaching with vicious speed. A gargantuan fireball was on his daughter’s heels, a cruel yellow-orange wave of incineration. If he opened the hatch now—if he let her in, saved her life—he would put everyone else inside at risk if he could not get the door closed in time. The fireball would scamper greedily through the faintest crack, and then everyone on board would join the burned, motionless shapes of the vessel’s original crew.She saw it in his eyes, and hers flew open wider. She struck the portal window with her small fists. All he could do was look with profound grief at her, his first-born, the embodiment of all the goodness he saw daily in the world.After a few seconds, the pounding slowed, stopped. Tears poured down her face, but there was no longer terror in her expression. Only understanding, and sorrow.Oh, my little girl…Shaking, she pressed her forehead to

"Alex can we see the playlist?" dozens of images flashed up on one of the many screens pictures of attractive humanoid females one after another. Slightly panicked Jasper stared at the images as if the women were about to attack him. One attractive woman who was standing right in front of him just might. Eliza advanced past him her jaw set. Jasper felt his face grow hot. How the hell had she known about this?"Hey!" he protested. "Most of them are coworkers that's it!" It was true. Well mostly. Eliza turned arching a brow. "Really? Coworkers?"He nodded."Well in that case where's my picture?" Jasper had no answer for that and so simply stared at her like a woodland creature in a beam of bright light."Yeah," she said, and it seemed to him that there was genuine emotion in her words, "that's what I thought." Jasper grasped her arm. "Eliza those girls mean nothing to me. Okay, I admit it, I took a few detours when I was younger, but so what?"The sergeant pointed to one of the pictures

The commando unit further emphasized the incongruity of the situation by lingering near an old bus that looked almost as weathered and solemn as the boulders. It was painted in what had once been a bright yellow and was now a dull ochre, and it was decorated with insanely tacky rust-hued flames. Along its top were emblazoned the words "Kirian Tours."Jasper responded to the absurdity of it all by gleefully snapping a picture of the soldiers. The glowers of some of them were priceless, and would make fantastic souvenirs."Hey," he asked, looking about and spreading his arms. "Where's the band?"Major Gibson, the officer in charge of the operation, looked at him askance. "What band?""To welcome us," Jasper answered cheerfully. The soldiers looked at one another, utterly at a loss for words.Gibson, a tall, lean man with sharp features, eyed the pair critically, his mouth turning down in an expression of distaste. "You plan on going on a mission dressed like that?""Hello Major Pot, I'm

Jasper threaded his way through the crowd moving toward Big Market’s main gate. It really was pretty impressive—tall, wide, with gold stones on one side and a sturdy metal door open in the center. Jasper wondered how many people thronged through it daily. He ambled amiably toward a group of tourists, nonchalantly attaching himself to the edges of the cluster. The slender Siirt employees of the tourist trap were handing out the equipment necessary to fully appreciate “the premiere place for galaxy-sized bargains,” as Big Market brazenly advertised itself. Jasper accepted his own set of shopping gear: a lightweight yellow and black helmet with a large visor, gloves equipped with sensors, and a bulky belt. The employees were loaded down with sets designed for humans, as his species was among the most avid tourists and, apparently, extremely fond of tchotchkes. The herd of eager shoppers that Jasper had joined tramped through the gate, and it closed behind them. They were within the marke