Inyanga's Star and Other Constellations

Bay's Star - Episode I - Part II

"Impala, I've been cut," Bay announced.

"Wonderful. And Ocean?"

"Still on break."

"And Amber?"

"Still on break?"

"And Jaya?"

"Fired."

"Does anyone actually work here? Just me?"

"Just you," said Bay. She came in close to her dear friend and quietly added, "I do believe Ocean is on one of her famous hour-long Story breaks. But then, you're the one who sold it to her." And she whispered even quieter, "It's been a night. Can you advance me some Story?"

"Yes I can. I have a stockpile, which is why I can't say no to Ocean. Pay me when you're lush again."

"I'll be good for it tomorrow."

"When this stockpile is gone, though, Breeze is upping the price. 1800 a halfer."

"I'll take two today, then." That was quite a stars damn increase.

Impala doled out a portion of Story, in an edible format that regrettably had nothing, in terms of flavor, on Yue's dulces.

It was a bit of a pain that Song had come in for a meal tonight. Made it harder for Bay to disappear for a Story break of her own — but with her failed confrontation, she needed one more than ever. Song wouldn't exactly approve of such a use of solidae at a time when Bay was living paycheck to paycheck and turning down Song's offers of monetary assistance. And so it was decision time. Take the Story home and use it sometime tomorrow, when odds would have it Bay wouldn't be coming in to work? Or get rid of her wife and indulge herself now? Making decisions was hard, but lying was something that had always come easy for Bay.

"Good news or bad news?" Bay picked up Song's empty stew bowl and dipped in for a quick kiss.

"I assume you plan to tell me both," said Song, her voice lacking the playfulness that Bay had hoped for. Song sounded beat.

"I guess that's true. Well, the good news is, Yue agreed to pay up." Bay considered adding "tomorrow—" but the timing all depended on how soon she could bring herself to screw over one of her fellow plate slingers. "The bad news is, Impala can't stay to close up. So the release of my backpay has become contingent upon my staying late tonight to do so."

Song didn't object that Bay had taken her apron off. She stood to kiss her partner goodbye with no indication on her blank slate face that she knew Bay was lying. She did mutter something about potential labor law violations.

"I'll get a link home," Bay said to her back as she walked away. "The last seating should be done within an hour."

"Mhmm," said Song.

"See you soon."

"Mhmm," came over Song's shoulder. She headed for the elevator to take her to the ground. Other customers had been leaving too, and the crowd had thinned out. Plenty of empty tables now. Impala should be able to handle it.

Bay took the Story to the sub-level "break room" — a shaft below the real break room between the elevators and storage. Crates were left in the small space. Ocean and a chef magician were already slung out.

The magician had conjured a couple of hammocks out of thin air for their slumber, but now that they were out, no one could do the same for Bay. She climbed behind a crate and slid down the wall until she was curled up in a stable position, feet up the crate's side. Once comfortable, she took her Story. It tasted like stale tea and baking powder.