“Samantha!” HC waved his pad in the air. “Is this really true?”

  I was giggling my way through his “Murder Auld” short story and loving every second of it, no matter that the pool nearby us was noisy. This was supposed to be a vacation, after all.

  I paused my reading, sitting straighter on the lounger and taking in HC’s shock. My “Mafia Moms” short story’d had the desired effect. Yay, me.

  “Oh, it’s true, HC. I made up that part about meeting Rhoda at the playground. We were in the dining commons here on the starliner, but everything else is exactly as it happened,” I nodded.

  “And Rhoda? This is really what she said when she found out about your boss?” he asked, glancing at his wife and my best friend in the hot tub nearby.

  “Yeah, Bitsy Joon sent me Janelynn’s recon file with a contract for ‘Mafia Moms,' and when Rhoda saw the truth in that file, she put it all together. What the mom I babysat for was really doing in her upstairs office scaring the shit outta me so I’d stay away."

  “Hot damn, girl! What are the chances? Here we are trying to break open the Discord / Purple Road tech conspiracy, and the whole time it was going on, you were working for the Don of one of the biggest corporations in the Technology Guild. And her father is a Galactic Minister,” HC set the pad down and picked up his Scotch, shaking his head.

  “I know,” I nodded. “It’s totally surreal. When I first met you on Discord, I was babysitter to the grandchildren of Milky Way’s Galactic Minister of Tech!"

  He nodded, “Rhoda’s a genius. All of this makes sooo much sense, Sam! Monopolies! I always wondered why I could never get any attention from the traditional publishing houses for Red Phoenix, but Known Cosmos Earth Press gobbled it up instantly. That struck me as odd, but now I get it."

  HC leaned forward, peering at me intently. “Have you ever noticed the options for romance books are cookie cutter? It’s the same formula over and over. Will they/ won’t they? He said/ she said—on repeat. You write something unique like my story or yours, and the big publishers won’t talk to you. They’re flooding the market with carbon-copy books, just like the gaming industry!"

  I sat back, blinking. “HC, it’s everything isn’t it? All the entertainment? The Guilds are in charge of everything we see, aren’t they?"

  “The most popular, anyway,” his tone switched to comforting. “When you go to web serials like Purple Road or indie games and stories, you get more variety. But you’ve gotta hunt for it. We tiny people aren’t marketed by the Guilds, and interestingly, Known Cosmos Earth Press isn’t a member of the Art Guild. So, the question is, why does Bitsy want you to write ‘Mafia Moms?’"

  My eyebrows rose. I didn’t know that about the Press. “I dunno, HC. But the contract is substantial, and she seemed awfully eager for my story.” I rolled my shoulders, loosening the tension and wishing I could settle into vacation mode.

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

  “‘Mafia Moms' is solid, gripping, actually, and I noticed you didn’t use your real name, so what’re you thinking?” he asked.

  I shook my head, “I dunno yet. I’m not sure what Bitsy wants with it, so I didn’t sign her contract. I wanna talk to her about it, but I don’t think I should—“

  “Definitely not. Like you said in the story: this is an in-person conversation. Not for video chats. I don’t think you should message her the file either,” HC warned.

  I nodded, “I don’t really wanna use my pen name on that story. I wrote it, and I like it, but beyond that. . . Think it’s okay to leave it 'To Be Determined' for now? Wait ’til I can talk to Bitsy in person on Shurwinn?”

  “Absolutely. I wouldn’t sign a contract yet either,” he said, swirling his glass. "Not with something this combustible. It’s far too easy to trace back to you, and you have a million reasons to be cautious with your identity. Especially since you’re writing a whole book about the Discord fiasco. There’s too many high profile corporations involved in your life, Sam, and that concerns me.”

  The pool deck of the starliner was lined with colorful plants, trees, and flowers, and it should have felt tropical with little kids laughing and splashing in the water. Speakers pumped soft music, and there was a cabana bar nearby, but I noticed none of it.

  All I saw was the pink hibiscus flower in front of me.

  “Me too, HC,” my voice was soft, barely there. “I don’t want to be afraid anymore, but every new revelation seems like more and more impossibilities coming to life in front of me. When I was packing to leave Cheyenne, I had this odd feeling that I might never be back, and now . . . Well, I’m not sure I want to go home. It seems filled with danger I have no use for, but, HC?”

  I turned to face him, and kind brown eyes met mine.

  “Is there anywhere we can go to get away from this? How far do we need to go to be safe?”

  His face was gentle, but I saw steel in those brown eyes.

  “Samantha, my kids and grandkids are only a few days behind us. I don’t know where our path is taking us, but all of this has been coming for a long time. You’re not much older than I was when I published my Red Phoenix graphics, and I’ve had forty years to wonder what in the Known Cosmos is really going on.”

  He set his glass down and leaned forward. “Now we know there’s a giant due date coming up in a matter of months. So, whatever is coming, it’s happening fast, like dominoes cascading. But no one has all the puzzle pieces, Sam. Let’s take comfort in that, eh? You, me, Bitsy, Cora, Rhoda? All of us together might just be the wild card that wins the game.”

  “A game I didn’t know I was playing,” I whispered.

  “No one ever does,” he said with finality.

  “Sam! Did you see?” Filly’s shrill voice sang out, snapping me out of my funk.

  Apparently the world-changing conversation was over. There was a little boy to entertain.

  I smiled at the blonde-haired cutie, “Was the waterslide amazing, Fil? Did you love it?”

  “Wanna come with me?” he pulled my hand, and I slipped off my sarong and headed for the waterslide with my tiny companion, giving HC a wry grin over my shoulder.

  Cora wrapped an arm around my waist, stealing me away from mysteries that were too big for words and tethering me to the here and now. To vacation and family.

  I whispered her direction, “How was the slide?”

  “Toddler appropriate,” she murmured with that familiar dry tone.

  We chuckled softly but didn’t let on to Filly that his slide of grandeur was less than interesting.

  After all, a bit of childlike simplicity was a refreshing change after handling Cosmos-shattering stakes all morning.