Earth Afire (The First Formic War)

down a corridor.
    Lem sat there a moment, too stunned to move. Not because Father had just abandoned him—Father was always zipping off somewhere—but because Father had never spoken to Lem that way. He had never discussed their relationship or broached the subject of their fortune. Not that Father had made any attempt to conceal their fortune from Lem. How could he? Everything around them bore witness to it. And yet to hear Father mention it and, more significantly, for Father to acknowledge that Lem was any measure of a man felt completely foreign to Lem.
    And yet Father had seemed sincere. There was no hint of irony or sarcasm in his voice.
    What was this? Lem wondered. Another test? Another exercise in humiliation? Or was Father actually speaking from the heart?
    “What’s the matter, Lem?” a voice said. “You got space legs?”
    Lem looked up. Father’s assistant, Simona, was outside in the airlock, bent forward and looking inside the skimmer, holding her holopad.
    “You’re not stuck in there are you? Do I need to call someone?”
    “My legs are fine,” said Lem. He climbed out of the skimmer then brushed a nonexistent speck of dust off his sleeve.
    “Little atrophy is nothing to be ashamed of,” Simona said. “Two years in zero-G is a long time.”
    She was talking to him like he was a boy, just as she always had, even though she was only five years his senior. He hated that. “I’m fine,” he said.
    He hadn’t noticed her standing there among the technicians earlier, but that didn’t surprise him. Simona had a way of suddenly appearing at Father’s side exactly when he needed her, usually without making a sound. Lem had jokingly called her a jungle cat once, which she had mistakenly taken as some flirtation. She had then proceeded to tell Lem that she wouldn’t be one of his conquests and flatly denied him. Lem had laughed at that, which Simona had taken as yet another insult. It was all a silly misunderstanding, but it had soured the air between them, and Lem could sense that two years apart hadn’t mended that.
    Simona looked exactly as she did when he had left: conservative skirt, conservative blouse, flat functional shoes. She was not one for fashion. She usually found the latest trends insulting and ridiculous. Lem agreed with her, but that didn’t raise her in his esteem. She was not particularly pretty either. Not plain, but not the kind of woman that would earn a second look. Her hair was arranged to keep it out of her face, and that was the extent of attention she gave it. Her nose was small, her cheeks freckled, her chest flat. She was like an awkward twelve-year-old girl who had made a wish to stay that way her whole life.
    “Father left in a hurry,” said Lem.
    “He won’t be coming,” said Simona. “He has meetings.”
    “Coming where?”
    “Didn’t he tell you?” She looked down at the schedule on her holopad and started walking away from him down the corridor. “No, of course he didn’t. He has too much on his mind.” She snapped her fingers. “Come.”
    He hurried and fell into step beside her. “I’m not a dog, you know.”
    She didn’t look up from her pad. “I snap. I give quick commands. That’s how we move things along.”
    “Yes, well, it’s not very polite.”
    “Your father doesn’t mind it.”
    “I’m not my father. I’m nothing like my father.”
    She shot him a glance and a wry smile. “No, you’re not.”
    He stopped. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
    She faced him. “It means what I said. I was agreeing with you.”
    “Yes, but when you say it, it sounds like an insult.”
    She folded her arms. “Agreeing with statements you make is insulting. Noted. I’ll argue and disagree more.” She motioned down the hall. “Now, shall we move on?”
    They got walking again. Lem grit his teeth. Same old Simona. Ten seconds, and you wanted to strangle her.
    “Why the rush?” he asked. He practically had to jog to keep up with her.
    “We keep a tight schedule, Lem. Your father is managing the largest corporation in the world and trying to stop a war. It’s a full plate. I’m glad you’re home, by the way.”
    “Thanks.”
    “Your father is glad as well. He’s been concerned about you.”
    “So he said.”
    She cast him a look. “You don’t believe him?”
    He didn’t want to answer. Whatever he said to Simona would doubtless be echoed to Father. “Where are we going?” he asked, changing the subject.
    “We’re not