Learning to Dance

February looked confused.
“I mean Phillipa,” Up said quickly. “Have you seen
Phillipa lately?”
“Oh, Phillipa!” February said, smiling and tickling one
of Bug’s antennae with her finger. “She had better be
coming, it took me long enough to talk her into wearing the
dress I replicated for her, and it’s just the sweetest thing!”
“Thanks, Feb,” Up said, nodding at Bug, who gave him
a very large, bulbous wink – could ants wink? Bug was
probably the only person in the galaxy – besides Rosie, of
course, who knew everything – who knew why he would be
looking for Taz tonight.
He left the party deck, and thought about knocking on
the door to her room, but his feet took him elsewhere. They
knew where she would be.
He was surprised when he entered the gym to find it
empty. The punching bags hung still and quiet, the weights
untouched on the floor. Then his eyes fell on the
illuminated holodeck panel, and a door left slightly ajar.
Moonlight, real, earth-bound moonlight, streamed through
the crack.
He hesitated, and then crossed the distance to the
holodeck. He gave the door a tentative push, and found
himself in Mexico.
He knew the place right away. Starlit waves crashed
upon white sand and a rocky shore. He could smell the sea,
taste the salt in the air. High above him the stark, crumbling
ruins of Zama looked on. And there she was, sitting on a
tall black rock, hugging her knees, looking out at the ocean.
She turned her head at his approach.
Up stopped, several feet from her, and they looked at
each other. Her bandana had been discarded for the night
and her hair lay flat against her head, making her eyes seem
somehow bigger, more vulnerable. A pair of black heels lay