“Is there anything to eat in this dump?” Dawn asked the robot while heading toward the kitchen.
“I’m afraid you’ve got very little in the way of sustenance,” Ladee replied. “I did remind you that your delivery for the week was returned for insufficient funds.”
“Shit. I forgot.” Ladee had told her a few days ago about the delivery she’d been scheduled to receive, but she’d been so wrapped up in her newest discovery, she hadn’t bothered to gather the scattered remains of her meager funds into one account to pay the delivery service. Which meant that she was missing valuable lab equipment as well as the more mundane supplies. Like dinner.
Dawn entered her bedroom, throwing herself onto her bed and landing face down in the pillows. This was not how she’d expected to feel right before embarking on an experiment of this magnitude. But here she was, no equipment, no lab assistant, and barely enough credits to feed herself. Instead of the usual excitement she felt at the beginning of a project, all she felt was disappointment.
Sure, she hadn’t been in love with Brian, but he was comfortable. Shinks wasn’t much in the looks department and he hadn’t been too talented in the sack either, but she could count on him to be there at least. To help curb the loneliness that had been increasing with each passing year.
Maybe I should have higher standards for a man than that. Being present isn’t expecting much.
Dawn wanted a man that would be her equal, intellectually and passionately. The problem was, she hadn’t found anyone to match her in the galaxy yet. At least, no one who was inclined to let her work overwhelm every aspect of their lives, to live on a shoestring budget with anything extra devoted to her research, settled on a piece of cold rock with the starkest of amenities.
Hell, I’m worth it, though, right?
Maybe not. Brian had jumped at the opportunity to sell out to the Hills in exchange for an office and enough credits to live comfortably if not lavishly. Who was she to say that her next relationship wouldn’t end the same way? Or worse?
Relationships suck.
At least hers did. And they always had. In high school, no boy had stepped up to ask her to a dance. Maybe the robot parrot she’d worn on her shoulder all through her senior year had something to do with it. Or the fact that she’d spent most of her free time mumbling to herself about complex equations.
In college, she’d promised to make up for lost time and had thrown herself into the party scene, forsaking the science library for nightclubs. For one whole term, she’d hooked up with a small sample of guys. It had led to one of her most important discoveries to date: sex was quantitatively overrated.
Dawn had retreated to the lab, finishing degrees in engineering, medicine, and artificial psychology. She’d dated, had a few short-term relationships with nice guys who didn’t complain about her spending all her time on her projects, but none had made her consider anything more.
Brian was the first guy she’d lived with after a long hiatus from the dating pool. He’d been reliable, pleasant, and totally nonconfrontational. Sure, he wasn’t a dynamo in bed, but he didn’t snore, and that was saying something.
Wasn’t it?
He’d been a good fit. Until he’d left to sell her patent to her greatest enemy.
“Weinvented it? Really, Brian?We?” She punched her pillow. “I had to recheck every one of your equations, had to correct every error of yours in the code.”
“Trouble in paradise?” Ladee asked, his tone playful. “Is Dr. Shinks no longer welcome in the lab?”
“That’s right,” Dawn said, sitting up with a huff. “If you see him, shoot him on sight.”
Ladee nodded, his tail swishing behind him. “Stun setting, I assume. Then call the authorities?”
Dawn frowned, considering telling the robotic fox to use the maximum setting on the defensive lasers embedded in his front paws. “Stun setting, I suppose,” she said after a moment. “But please, feel free to bite the shit out of him.”
Plodding to her closet, she stared at the meager collection she found there. With no food in the fridge and a black mark on her name at the delivery service, Dawn would be forced to leave Pallas to find dinner. That meant putting on something other than the white coat she typically wore in the lab.
Looking for her favorite gray sweater, she stumbled instead upon a slinky little gold dress she’d bought for a New Century party back in college. “How do I still even have this thing?” she wondered, pulling it out and holding it up to her frame. It appeared she hadn’t changed much in the handful of years since graduation. The body-hugging dress would still fit.
“As if I’d wear it. Where would I even go?”
“The Venus Vacuum, mayhaps?”
Dawn’s cheeks heated. She turned, giving Ladee the stink-eye. But she didn’t bother to ask the robot how he’d known about the Double V. He had access to all the system in her lab/crash pad, meaning he would have been able to see her surreptitious searches on the club.
“Well, why shouldn’t I consider a nightclub?” she asked him, her nose stuck high in the air. “I could use some fun and excitement. I could celebrate the surprise ending of my mundane relationship.”
“With a bang,” Ladee added.
“Oh, shut up,” she said, tossing a pillow at the fox, who easily evaded it. “So what if it’s a sex club?”
“It’s called the Venus Vacuum because patrons get sucked into pleasure,” the robot barked. “That’s their tagline.”
