Free Saga of Shadows 1: The Dark Between the Stars by Kevin J. Anderson Page A

cried.
    “You’ve both got it good,” Patrick said. “Try growing up with tutors at every turn, or protocol instructors who teach you which fork to use at which part of the meal, how to fold your napkin, and which side of the lips to dab first.”
    Toff snorted. He bounced his ball on the rail, caught it, then bounced it against the deck, where it ricocheted against the wall, arced up into the air, and came down into his palm again.
    Patrick Fitzpatrick III was a blue blood, the grandson of a former Hansa Chairman. Patrick had been in the Earth Defense Forces, survivor of a disastrous battle against the hydrogues. Zhett was the daughter of Roamer industrialist Del Kellum, whose clan had rescued Patrick along with other injured EDF comrades. Their romance had had a Romeo and Juliet quality—more than twenty years ago.
    The toddler squirmed and fussed, and Patrick let him run around on the skydeck, but he watched every movement. Patrick was a good father, maybe to counterbalance the fact that his own upbringing had been so sterile. Zhett had been surprised by the mellowing and growth in his personality. When she first met him, Patrick was—frankly—a jerk. Now he claimed to have learned as much from being a real father as his children learned from having one.
    Showing off, Toff threw his ball again, which bounced sideways in front of Rex. As the ball flew toward the edge of the deck, the two-year-old bounded after it in a cockeyed run. Barely even pausing in his conversation with Zhett, Patrick snagged Rex by the collar and held him dangling, arms outstretched, as the ball ricocheted off into the wide-open sky. Patrick didn’t even seem alarmed.
    Zhett said, “He could have gone over the edge!”
    “No, I was watching.”
    Toff added, “I could always grab a swooper and dive down to catch him.”
    Zhett took the toddler from her husband and scoffed at Toff’s bravado. “Once he dropped down into the thick clouds, how would you even find him?”
    Toff made a rude noise. “Rex would cry so loud I’d hear him for kilometers.”
    “You might catch him in time,” Patrick said. “But you’d have to change his diaper afterward.”
    “Eww! Now that’s dangerous.”
    Zhett let out a sigh, happy with her circumstances. The clouds below were thick, mysterious, quiescent. She had a good husband, a fine family, a fulfilling career, an important skymine. She liked being a wife and mother, she liked being a businesswoman. In fact, she had everything she could possibly want.
    That feeling of euphoric satisfaction should have made her suspicious right away.

T EN
    S HAREEN F ITZKELLUM
    “You don’t know everything, young lady,” said the professor, looking as if she’d just swallowed a chemistry experiment gone horribly wrong. “In fact, you don’t even know as much as you think you do.” Professor Mosbach displayed Shareen’s test scores for the other students to see in an obvious and juvenile attempt at humiliation. “You need to concentrate on your learning.” Some of the students chuckled.
    Shareen’s cheeks burned, but she didn’t look away. In fact, she faced the teacher, her dark eyes flashing. “I am learning. For instance, I’ve learned that professors don’t know everything either. You taught me that by example.”
    This time the students let out guffaws of scandalized astonishment. Shareen was rewarded with seeing Professor Mosbach’s pinched face tighten as if it had just been exposed to a hyper-efficient dehydrator. The woman also flushed a bright red.
    Shareen’s lab partner, Howard Rohandas, leaned closer and whispered (but so loudly that everyone could hear anyway), “Don’t provoke her—you’ll just make it awkward. And your calculations were wrong. We can all see that.”
    “Who cares about the calculations? My answers were right,” Shareen snapped.
    Professor Mosbach stalked back and forth. “This isn’t poetry class. You can’t wait for the muse to inspire you, then pull out an