Akira narrowed his eyes. "I'm not certain I follow you."
Riva slid her thumbnail through the tape holding down the lid of her box lunch. "Last night, I saw you arrive with the Coordinator. You wore a uniform, so I know you are a MechWarrior. Where are you stationed?"
Akira stiffened slightly. "That, of course, is something I cannot tell you."
Riva nodded. "If your posting is a secret, I respect that." With a gesture of the thumb, she indicated some of the people behind her. "It's just that so many of them seem to think of themselves as spies, when they're all just amateurs." She frowned as she dug through her box lunch. "If any of them had half a brain, they could find out what they want to know without having to ask a single question."
"How so?" Akira opened his own lunch, which immediately released the scent of pickled ginger.
Riva winked at him. "Well, first off, if I'd not seen you in a uniform last night, this little lunch ComStar packed for you would tell me you're from the Draconis Combine. Smells like some kind of sushito me."
Akira nodded. "Rice rolls and teka-maki."He tapped at the side of her box lunch. "And what is ComStar's idea of a typical Federated Suns repast?"
Riva shrugged unenthusiastically. "Quillarand peanut butter sandwich, with a naranjion the side."
The sea breeze carried the screams of hungry sea gulls to the picnickers. Looking up at the white birds floating on the sea winds, Akira said, "I think they would accept our lunches if we do not want them."
Riva smiled, but waved away the suggestion. "Tell you what. I'll give you half my sandwich for some of your sushi."
Akira shook his head. "All or nothing—I hate sushi."
"We split the naranjil"
"Deal."
"Great!" Riva plucked the purplish citrus fruit from her lunch box, setting it directly in the middle of the table. She then slid her lunch over to Akira.
He passed his sushito Riva, then pulled the sandwich from the box, and carefully removed its petrochem wrap. As he bit into it, a dollop of yellow-green quillaroozed from the sandwich, but Akira managed to catch it in his right hand before it dripped onto his clothes.
Wiping his hands on a napkin, he chewed and chewed to clear his mouth of food so he could speak. Riva pressed a hand to her mouth, trying to hide her amusement at his discomfort, but it showed clearly enough in her dimples and blue eyes. Finally, after scraping the roof of his mouth with his tongue, Akira swallowed and felt himself blushing.
Embarrassed, he glanced down at his food. "Forgive me."
Riva slid her left hand onto the back of his right fist. "I'm the one who should ask pardon." She ducked her head in order to see his eyes. "Really, Akira. I apologize." She grinned sheepishly. "I was glad you took the sandwich because I'd never have gotten a quillarstain out of these slacks."
Akira looked up. "As I meant to explain, when I had the chance, I do not normally play with my food, but having quillaron my clothes would be cause for a report."
Riva shook her head. "Your father wouldn't write you up for that, would he?"
How much does she know?Akira narrowed his eyes. "I would feel obliged to write myself up for sloppy appearance."
Riva's expression told him she understood the necessary wording of his answer. "Sorry, Akira. I'm doing what I accused others of doing. I asked because you arrived with Yorinaga Kurita. He's fascinated me ever since I read Mitchell's book about Mallory's World. My brother was there ..."
Akira nodded. "A fair exchange, I think, Riva. I am Akira Brahe, and Yorinaga Kurita is my father."
Riva wiped her hands on her napkin. "I am Riva Allard and my brother is Daniel Allard of the Kell Hounds."
Akira closed his eyes. As vast as is the universe, we move in tiny circles."And your father is Quintus Allard?"
Riva hung her head with resignation. "You can start treating me like a leper now." Her hand retreated from his.
Akira again frowned. "I don't follow you . . ."
Riva shrugged. "Many people assume I'm a conduit straight to my father." She summoned a weak smile. "I nearly gave one Marik Captain a heart attack when I told him who I was."
Akira shifted his right hand to cover her left and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "I know something of what you describe, for I earned similar treatment when acquaintances discovered my father's identity." He winked at her. "Let us finish our lunch and direct our detective skills toward the others or"—he paused for dramatic effect—"to uncovering ComStar's deepest and darkest secrets."
Riva rolled her eyes skyward. "Like, what do ComStar Acolytes do when they can't find a quote from Blake to justify their actions?"
Akira shrugged. "It's bound to be more interesting than the rest of this tour."
"O.K. It's a deal." She laughed, but there was a dangerous glint in her eyes. "Who knows ... we might even learn something about ComStar in the process."
Seeing the ComStar Acolyte trying to hustle his group together again, the two young people rejoined the others as they descended a broad spiraling staircase that would take them beneath the island's surface. Opening his arms to take in the entire building, the guide smiled. "All this is devoted to the work of training our personnel. Everything from classrooms to individual meditation cells are contained in this facility. Now if you will follow me, I will show you how an average ComStar recruit passes his or her time during the day."
Akira and Riva hung back. Riva looked over the stair's railing and stared into the spiral's dim depths. "I wonder how far down it goes?"
Akira shrugged. "Not that far." He pointed to four robed figures climbing the stairs from below. "See? None of them are wearing rebreathing devices."
Riva wrinkled her nose. "That's true, but they walk funny."
Akira glanced back down at the men. Though their robes effectively hid their limbs, their strides did appear exaggerated. It was strange, too, for the only time he'd ever seen people walk like that was after an extended run in a 'Mech simulator. When a bitter scent wafted up from the advancing figures, he turned back to Riva and grabbed her arm. "Do you smell that?"
She frowned, then sniffed twice. "Burned ashqua."
Akira nodded. 'Mech coolant, an odor he knew all too well. He glanced back over his shoulder as the Acolytes approached their level. Whispering harshly, he pulled Riva to him. "Slap me, hard." Cupping her head in his hands, he kissed her forcefully.
Riva's right hand rocketed up, spinning Akira with a thunder-crack slap. The tall MechWarrior reeled away from her and crashed heavily into the ComStar Acolytes. He grabbed at their robes, and they supported him without anyone spilling to the ground. Straightening up, he pressed his left hand to the hot red mark on his face.
Riva graced him with a withering glare, then turned on her heel and stalked off with her nose in the air. Stunned to silence, the ComStar Acolytes stared after her. Once she had vanished from sight around a corner, they let Akira drop to the cold marble floor and laughed heartily.
Akira rolled to his feet. "Who does she think she is? She can't do that to the Combine's finest Jump Troop Commander." He turned to stalk after her, but one of the Acolytes grabbed his wrist.
"The Peace of Blake be with you, sir." The Acolyte wiped sweat from his brow. "Why don't you leave her alone? That slap hit you harder than an autocannon round. As far as you're concerned, why not just consider her a Firestarter.Got it?"