Kinsmen 01 - Silver Shark

to be sat on to her right. A curved coffee table carved from some reddish rock rested between them, and on it in a wide glass dish floated burgundy-red dahlia blossoms. Ahead, double doors framed by diaphanous curtains led to a balcony.
    Claire dropped her bags.
    The apartment was completely quiet. She walked across the floor to the door and slid it open. A small balcony presented her with a view of the sunset: above her the cosmos was deep purple and far ahead, at the horizon, where the setting sun rolled behind the distant mountains, the sky glowed with bright vivid red. Wind fanned her, bringing with it a scent of some flower she didn't know.
    She sat down on the floor of the balcony, behind the trellised rail, and cried.

Chapter Three
    Claire opened her eyes. The ceiling above her was cream, painted with yellow stripes from the rays of the morning sun filtering through the window.
    She rolled out of bed and walked out onto the balcony. Outside New Delphi buzzed with life. In the sky, crisscrossing currents of aerials flowed one above the other, sliding toward the distant buildings of the business sector. Below a wide street led into the distance, framed by buildings in every color, shape, and size. People strolled on the sidewalk. Claire watched a young woman leading two little girls walk down the street. Both children wore flowing white dresses and straw hats with small flowers in the brim. Their little sandals made loud slapping sounds on the sidewalk: flop, flop, flop. The woman stopped at a small stall, offering buckets of fruit under a bright green awning. The vendor offered the little girls a cup of some sort of round red berries.
    Suddenly she was starving.
    Claire rummaged through the new clothes she'd hung up in the closet, found a simple pale blue dress, slipped it on, and ran out the door.
    The street vendor was old, his hair almost completely grey, his nose large with a bump, like a beak of some bird. He squinted at her with dark eyes as she looked at the fruit.
    "What's this one?" she pointed to a bulbous green fruit.
    "Pears," he said.
    "And this one?" She pointed at the big sphere of yellow blushing with red on one side.
    "Dahlia peaches."
    Claire picked up a peach and smelled. The delicate, sweet aroma teased her.
    "You're from Uley?" he asked.
    She nodded.
    "I've seen a few of you in the neighborhood," he said. "You're braver than most. Usually it takes your people ten minutes to decide to talk to me." He pointed to boxes one by one. "This one is sweet but firm, this one is sweet and soft, this one is tart..."
    "One of each," she said and held her ring to the scanner mounted on the stall's support.
    "We can do that."
    The vendor took a satchel from a stack and filled it with fruit, sliding it carefully into the bag one by one.
    A brush of a familiar mind made Claire turn. A woman approached, her dark hair pulled back into a bun. She wore a familiar grey tunic of simple cut over the plain trousers. Tonya Damon, Claire remembered. She lived across her mother's apartment.
    Tonya saw her and halted, awkward. The look of worry in the woman's eyes stabbed at Claire. She'd seen this reaction before: she was a psycher, an officer, and a killer and Tonya was afraid.
    "Are you here for the fruit?" Claire asked, forcing a smile.
    "Yes. No. I was just looking."
    Claire took the satchel from the vendor's hand and pulled out a pear. "Would you like to try one?"
    Tonya looked at the pear.
    "I got carried away and bought a whole bag," Claire said.
    "She did," the vendor confirmed.
    Tonya swallowed.
    "I can't possibly eat it all by myself. It would be a waste ."
    She'd said the magic word. Tonya reached out for the pear and took it. "Thank you."
    "You're welcome."
    Tonya hesitated.
    Claire waited, the smile in place.
    "When did you arrive?" Tonya said finally.
    "Yesterday. You?"
    "A week ago." The woman blinked. "I found a job. I work for a chemical laboratory. That's what I did on Uley, so it worked out."
    "That's great," Claire told her. "I found a job, too, as an admin."
    "That's nice." Tonya smiled.
    What was her husband's name... "How's Mark?"
    "Mark died," Tonya said. "Killed on the front line two years ago."
    "I'm so sorry."
    "That's alright. It was nice to see you."
    "Nice to see you as well. I live in that building over there." Claire nodded at the apartment. "Fourth floor. If you need anything..."
    "I'm down the street. I better go. Thank you for talking to me."
    "Thank you."
    Tonya turned, took a few