Kinsmen 01 - Silver Shark

keep with something more than your sad story." Lienne pursed her lips. "Do you have any questions?"
    "Would it be a problem if I dyed my hair?"
    Lienne arched her eyebrows. "Dictating the color of your hair would violate Employee Rights. I can tell you what clothes to wear, but clothes can be removed at the end of the work day. Hair cannot. You may dye it whatever shade you wish, although I would hope that it will be something tasteful. Working here is a privilege even for the most qualified applicants. You're been given a gift. Don't waste it."
    *** *** ***

    Claire slid into the seat of the aerial. She felt lost, as if her very being unraveled at the seams and the tatters of her psyche swirled around her, lifted by the breeze.
    "Destination?" an automated male voice asked.
    "Find a salon frequented by businesswomen."
    "The closest location is Allure. Eighty-six percent of users provided four star or above rating. Estimated time of travel: ten minutes. Permission to book an appointment?"
    "Book it."
    The aerial hummed and took to the air. Claire slumped on the seat. A lost puppy. She was Venturo Escana's rescued mongrel. The handsome golden man felt sorry for her. He knew that he stunned her and he felt pity for her. Her pride didn't just sting, it twisted in contortions. She wanted to crack her shell open, show him the full power of her mind, and scream, "Look at me!"
    They would throw her off planet so fast, she wouldn't have a chance to blink.
    Fatigue flowed over her in a heavy wave.
    She had a job. She had an apartment. No matter how bad it was, it had to be better than the concrete box on Uley.
    She tapped the tablet and pulled up the employee manual. Bionet protocols. Basic security. Data compilation. She could do this job in her sleep. She had done it sixteen years ago - that's how all psychers started.
    She would have to make sure that she made small insignificant mistakes to avoid calling attention to her sudden expertise.
    "You have reached your destination," the aerial announced. They landed. She stepped out of the vehicle. In front of her, a building rose, shaped like an ancient ivory hand fan, complete with lace carved in wide panes. The sign above the rectangular doorway proclaimed Allure.
    Claire walked inside. The glass doors hissed open at her approach. At the receptionist desk a man with lemony yellow hair glanced at her.
    I have an appointment," she said.
    "Claire?"
    "Yes." She could see her own reflection in the mirror behind him: pale brown hair of interminable shade, pulled back from her face into a braid, generously streaked with premature gray and tinted with slight orange.
    "What will it be?"
    She pointed to her hair. "Fix this."
    Thirty seconds later she sat in a chair. A woman approached her. "Good afternoon, my name is Belina and what will we... oh my. Horatio?"
    A slight, effeminate man approached, wiping his hands with a towel. "Take the braid out."
    Belina unwound the braid and her hair fell around Claire's face in a dense wave.
    "Better already." Horatio leaned next to her, looking in the mirror at her reflection. "Why is it stained with orange?" he asked softly.
    "Chemical deposits in the water," she said.
    "I see. What will you let us do?"
    "I've been hired as an admin by the Escana family," she said. "You may do anything that won't get me fired."
    Two hours later Claire looked in the mirror. The woman who looked back was about five years younger. A cloud of copper red hair fell on her shoulders in artful cascade, glinting with splashes of gold and deep red, softening her features and bringing out her grey eyes. She turned her head, and the hair moved, shimmering and light. Claire studied the woman's face. It didn't belong to her.
    "Gorgeous," Horatio said as she settled the bill and she smiled back at him without forcing it.
    "Where do business women shop?" she asked him.
    "How much money do you have?"
    She squeezed the ring, checking. "Two thousand credits."
    He borrowed her tablet and scribbled the address with a stylus. "Ask for Sophia. And use the shampoo I gave you. Red fades fast."
    By the time the aerial finally landed in front of her apartment, the sky had grown dark. Claire ducked into the entrance and walked up the stairs to the fourth floor. She pressed her thumb to the keypad. The lock clicked open, and she stepped inside.
    Walls of warm inviting yellow greeted her. The floor was textured tile in a dozen shades of pale green, brown, and beige. Soft green couches waited