The museum was as she remembered it, though the displays had shifted. A few of Helix’s favorites were gone, replaced by more mechanical works, and it amused her to hear them describe the pieces as “soulless,” lacking in vitality. Terrible factions might hunt inorganic beings for the same reasons, but she had no doubt that Helix possessed a beautiful soul, the esoteric energy that rendered them unique and precious.

For half the day, they walked together, admiring various artworks, and then they ate lunch together. Paid in full by Helix. It was strange for Qalu to process the idea that she no longer needed to worry about anyone validating her work or deciding if she was on the right track. So many scientists would sell their own mothers for the opportunity that she’d been given. Complete creative freedom, complete control.

I can’t wait to get started.

In some ways, they complemented each other perfectly. Because while Helix was drawn to art, they understood her work effortlessly, so she could talk about it without losing their interest. And Qalu had more than a passing interest in art, the process of creation, so she looked forward to hearing about what inspired Helix.

Two halves of a whole? Or maybe she just wanted to believe that because she loved them so much.

“We should probably get back,” she said reluctantly. “I don’t like to leave Aevi too long, especially when she’s roving outside.”

“We can always come back,” Helix said. “We have all the time in the world now.”

That filled her with such a warm glow, that she almost let her head tendrils touch theirs again. At the last moment, she refrained, remembering the judgmental looks they’d gotten last time they showed a bit too much affection in public.

Best to save it for when we get home.

Home. What a lovely word.

She stepped a little closer to Helix, though, wanting to feel a whisper of their warmth, even passing through the museum. They were on their way out when an unwelcome voice greeted them.

“I haven’t seen you in a long time,” Gravitch said.

Why is he here again? Does he live in the museum? Or is he stalking me?

Qalu had never been less pleased to see one of Inatol’s rejected prospects. Gravitch had been devoted to importuning her since she’d declined to socialize with him a second time. He also enjoyed flexing his control over her career in obvious ways. Before, she had to tolerate it. Not anymore.

“Gravitch,” she said coldly.

“You vanished on me!” he said.

“I tried,” she muttered.

The odious bureaucrat continued as if she hadn’t spoken, as that was his way. “You haven’t submitted any materials for the awards nominations. I thought you were close to a breakthrough. Do you want to talk about it?” Unadulterated glee disguised as sympathy.

He’s hoping to gloat over my failure.