Space Fairy Tales: Beauty and the Beast

Little Town

"Belle!"

I lifted my head from my tablet, glancing up as my sister rushed into the room.

"Belle, I have a surprise for you," Adalene said. She was wearing a skin-tight outfit with loops of bright fabric around the shoulders--it was what was most fashionable in Federation territory.

I got the impression that this "surprise" was not something I would like. "What is it?"

"I got you a date," Adalene announced, with the air of one doing a great favor. "And guess who with?"

Oh, no. "Ada, I don't--"

"Gaston!" she said, cutting off my protest. "The most handsome guy in the colony, not to mention one of Father's best hunters."

Oh, I knew the man. Gaston Lecomte. It was true, he was generally acknowledged as the most attractive man in the (small) colony. He was tall, muscular, with dark skin and striking green eyes. Not only that, but as my sister said, he was a skilled hunter, often a man my father used for reconnaissance or hits. But he was also an insufferable asshole.

I grimaced. "But Ada, I--"

"Don't start, Belle!" Ada crossed her arms and frowned at me. Her brown hair swished as she shook her head. "I'm trying to do something nice; be grateful for once."

I shrugged. "He's just not my type."

Ada let out an exasperated sigh. "No one's your type, Belle! Everyone else is too dumb, too boring. That's why you don't have any friends." I opened my mouth for another protest, but she cut me off by snatching the tablet from my lap. She read the title. "The Aeneid? What kind of book is this?" She sighed again, returned the tablet to me. I took it back with a frown, sensing a larger lecture coming on. "Look, kid," she said, glaring down at me, "this is the life you've got. Maybe there are no gods or magic spells or grand adventures. Suck it up--that's life. Gaston may not be as clever or well-read as you--" She sneered at the word a little. "--But he's hot, he's interested, and he thinks you're the most beautiful girl in town or whatever. There's a future there. I'm just trying to make sure you don't end your life as a bookish spinster with no one to love you."

"Ada, I don't dislike Gaston because I think I'm better than him," I protested. "I just think he belongs with someone who enjoys flattering egos."

"Goddamn, Belle!" Ada exclaimed. She turned and stormed out of the room. The door swooshed open and then closed automatically behind her.

I frowned. That might have been a little too far, I thought. I'd forgotten that Ada was friends with Gaston, and she might have dated him herself if she didn't already have a lover. Well, the damage was done. I sighed, tapping the power button on my tablet and setting it on the chair. My room was minimalist and metallic, like all of the buildings in the colony, but my father had gotten me a room with a little reading nook. It jutted out of the side of the house like a bubble, with a window out to the street. I saw a few people zip past on hoverbikes on the way home for lunch.

Ah, that reminded me--it was time to bring my father his lunch.

I hurried into the kitchen (making sure to tiptoe past Ada's room so I didn't trigger the door's motion sensor) and started assembling the sandwiches. While like all kitchens in the colonies, we had a machine that could create various foods out of a nutritional substance that morphed its color, taste, and texture, I knew my father preferred the natural stuff. So I opened the cooler and pulled out the fresh bread, lettuce, tomatoes, and sliced turkey--luxuries that only the ranked officials and captains had.

My father was General Laurent of the Human Exploration and Colonization Stratagem (HECS). His speciality was strategy; while he often worked on the front lines, his job was to plan and direct, not fight. This suited him, as he was a soft-spoken man with a brilliant mind. The Federation had called him to Condan LGS3 five years ago, when I was fourteen. It had been just after my mother's death, and I'd encouraged the move, hoping that getting out of Andromeda might help my father recover from his grief. Ada had been against it. I hadn't understood at the time, but I suppose it was hard for a eighteen-year-old girl to move from a big city to a tiny colony. I don't think she ever quite forgave me for convincing our father to move. But it had helped Father to be somewhere that didn't remind him of Mother, and to have a demanding job to throw his focus into.