“So what would be the opposite of the Case Club?” asked Sash, huddled over a notepad at Ember’s dining table.

Aconis Nyx, stretched out on Ember’s couch with his hands clasped behind his head, said, “The Confusion Club?”

“No,” said Sash.

“The Chaos Club?” suggested Nyx innocently

“No.”

“Oh, I know. The Crime Club!”

Sash twisted around to give Nyx a nasty look. “I could start by murdering you.”

To Ember’s little sister, in Ember’s kitchen preparing a snack, Nyx said, “Aw, Umi, you won’t let big bad Sash murder me, would you?”

The little girl staggered out holding a tray containing pretzels, cheese and a pitcher of punch. “No way, Nyx! Uh, where’s Ember?”

“Dunno,” said Sash. “Not here. And it’s very annoying!”

Umi put her tray on the table and Sash immediately grabbed a handful of pretzels before turning her attention back to the notebook.

Nyx, who had been dozing on Ember’s couch when Sash arrived and didn’t seem inclined to get up now, gave Umi an encouraging look until she put some pretzels into a little dish and brought them to him. “We made these at Primary,” she informed him as he inspected the misshapen curves on one.

“They’re pretty good,” said Sash with her mouth full. “Come on, Nyx, give me some ideas. Drop the alliteration, though. That’s just goofy.”

“If I named your club, wouldn’t it be my club?” Nyx asked, before eating the pretzel knot and giving Umi a thumbs-up.

“It’s going to be our club, stupid. Fine. Be that way. I don’t need your help anyhow.” She scribbled something on the notepad, tore off a sheet, and then pulled out her phone to send the missing Ember an urgent message. When she received no reply other than a message-read notice, she threw herself to her feet and began roving through the apartment.

Ember’s family apartment spanned the width of one of the apartment crescents in West Anne Park, with afternoon sunlight streaming in from the floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out across the Park to the Arcade. The furniture, worn but lovingly maintained, was an eclectic mix of limited edition Arcade rewards, Secure fundamentals and a couple of handcrafted heirlooms including a cradle filled with dolls in need of mending in one corner.

Honey, Ember’s mother, came into the front room, digging through a shoulder bag. “Ember, did you get—” She looked up, glancing around the room with her brow furrowed. “Isn’t Ember back?”

“No!” said Sash. “And she’s not answering her texts, either. I hope she didn’t get kidnapped or something. I need her help.”

Nyx yawned. “You’d love it if she got kidnapped. But she’s probably just off chatting with Vesper again.” His scarlet eyes popped open. “Maybe he’s finally talking her into joining the Case Club. Hmm.”

“Wash out your mouth with soap!” snapped Sash. “Ember’s mine and that greasy sneering scumbag better keep his mitts off her.”

“Ember isn’t yours, dear,” said Honey. “And this isn’t your apartment, either. Really, you two—” Honey paused to pick up the pretzel bowl Nyx had set on the floor beside the couch. “Umi, you mustn’t encourage them. Splotch makes enough of a mess. Really, you two have homes of your own.”

“Mine’s tiny. And boring.” Sash took the bowl from Honey absentmindedly and carried it to the kitchen, where she left it next to a dishwasher flashing READY FOR LOADING.

“And mine’s noisy and overwhelming,” said Nyx. “Like it or not, this is the sweet spot, Honey.”

The streetside door opened and Ember said, “I’m home!” from the foyer. After a moment to take her shoes off, she emerged into the front room, holding her family’s fat pet raccoon Splotch over one arm, and a disposable shopping bag over the other. “Here’s your cookie order, Mom,” she said. She just had time to hand the bag to Honey before vanishing under Sash’s tackle.

With a rude-sounding chitter, Splotch escaped the melee, climbing up the couch back to berate Sash. Meanwhile, Honey took her bag to the window, while Umi joyfully threw herself into the pile of flailing limbs. Nyx looked with interest over the back of the couch, appreciating the view without displaying any desire to get involved.

Finally, after tickles and pokes and gropes had been delivered in sufficient quantity, Sash held an overexcited Umi away from Ember so she could at least sit up. “Welcome home! Finally!”

Dazedly, Ember said, “We saw each other last night, didn’t we? Or did I forget and it’s actually been a year?”

“What does that have to do with anything? I’ve been waiting for you for ages.” Sash beamed radiantly, her pale brown eyes almost glowing. “We’re finally going to have a proper club, Ember!”

After adjusting her crumpled top and looking around for the phone she’d dropped in the scuffle, Ember said, “How’s that?”

Instead of answering, the normally shameless Sash blushed, her cheeks turning as pink as her hair.

“Whoa!” said Nyx, going from Napping Position #3 to crouching beside the girls in one of those lightning flashes of movement he sometimes managed. Then he was tugging on Sash’s cheeks. “How can you be blushing, Sash? Is it a fever? A break? What?”

“Idiot,” grumbled Sash, kicking him away. “Get off. It’s nothing. I met a girl over at the Arcade, in the figma shop. She’s not from Anne Park, she’s from the Terraces, but she’s trying to get more involved with Secure Life. So I invited her to join our club, and she said yes!”

“Uh, so that’s four, but we need five to be official, Sash.” Ember’s gaze dropped to her little sister.

Umi, meeting her gaze, waved her arms in the air. “Me! Me!”

Sash tilted Umi back and forth in her lap. “This isn’t a Primary Club, brat. But as soon as we unlock the feature I’ll let you set up the very first apprentice branch.”

“Then who?” asked Ember, her brow wrinkling.

“Don’t you remember that special offer Winter told us about? How we could combine applying for a club and sponsoring a returnee? Now that Fior’s signed up, all we need is for you to go over to the Port Adaption Center in the Exo District and pick one up.”

“Me?” Ember’s eyes opened very wide. “Why me?”

With exaggerated patience, Sash said, “‘Cause I have something else to do this afternoon. Do you have anything else going on?”

“Well, I was going to help my mother—”

“Cancel that. Honey would much rather you help us get this club off the ground. Right, Honey?”

Honey, meeting her daughter’s gaze, gave a helpless little shrug. “It’s true… If you could get a club room, I think you’d have ever so much more fun.”

“And we’d be out of your living room,” said Sash with smug self-satisfaction.

“What about Nyx?” said Ember desperately.

“Nyx also has plans this afternoon,” said Sash, giving him a sidelong look..

“Yes, Sash is putting me to work, too,” Nyx observed. “We’re going out—”

“So that’s settled,” Sash interrupted. “Head over to the Adaption Center, pick out a good returnee, and we’ll meet up this evening.”

Hurriedly, Honey said, “Not here! I’m having a get-together here with my friends from the sewing club.”

Sash pursed her lips and there was a collective bracing among the others, as if a storm threatened. But all she said was, “That’s fine. We’ll meet at Jenever’s. No doubt slimy Vesper will be there with his gang but that’s okay, because the returnee will be legally ours.”

“Not legally,” said Ember, looking shocked. “They’re people, not property, Sash!”

“Why are you so mad at Vesper?” asked Umi.

Sash gazed down at Umi, a dreamy expression crossing her face. Then her eyes narrowed. “You’re too young to hear about his crimes. Why are you sitting on me? Come on, get off, I have places to go.” She pushed Umi off her lap and bounced to her feet. “All right, everybody has their assignments.”

Nyx said, “Are you sure you don’t want to go with Ember to pick out your victim of choice? That other thing—”

“Victim?” queried Sash flatly.

“Victim, target, patsy, dupe, sacrifice… you know, the returnee?”

“Oh, I’m sure Ember will pick out somebody suitable. I’m not picky,” said Sash, in blithe unconcern. “That reminds me! Ember! Will you fill out the forms for the club? You can do it on the train. It won’t be hard. I already did the tough work.” She stuffed a crumpled notesheet into Ember’s hands. “That’s just the temporary name, though. I’ll reveal the true name once we have our first meeting. Okay, bye, come on Nyx!”

***

The train to the Mist-Raich Exo District travelled above the city, and used an entirely different set of tracks and stations than the neighborhood and regional transit systems. It didn’t seem to be used enough to justify that kind of dedication; Ember’s car was nearly empty. But Princesses were notorious for having unusual opinions on city development, and Ember was sure Rhona Lo’s Princess must have been the same when Mist-Raich was being developed.

True to the city’s name, a light mist obscured patches of the city, especially near the tall twin waterfalls splashing into the small lake the city curved around. The Terraces, where the wealthy kept their city residences, climbed the cliff that the waterfalls tumbled down, each one splendid and unique. Ember, who usually only saw the Terraces from below, or in entertainments, watched them until the curve of the tracks took them out of sight. Then she returned her attention to her phone, where a charter form on the Club Registration Server awaited her input.

It wasn’t exactly a complicated form to fill out. Club Name, Club Contact, Club Type, Membership Requirements, along with other details of a Secure club charter. She’d filled in Club Name with ‘Club Sash’, Club Contact with ‘Sash.West Anne Park’ and stalled out at Club Type.

The suggested types were ‘Activity’ or ‘Social’; selecting Activity unlocked a subcategory choice where she could decide whether the club would be focused on Athletics, Service, Creative Pursuits, Cultural Studies, Performance, or Gaming. A little note explained how important it was to properly select the Club Type, both so it’d be listed usefully in searches, and so the ClubCore AIs could allocate appropriate facilities and resources and, if you’d checked the ‘competitive’ checkbox, organize matches properly.

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Most small clubs were social clubs, because even they were entitled to a club room and a club stipend that was plenty sufficient for a few entertainment subscriptions or a party now and then. And Ember was pretty sure that Sash’s club would actually be a social club, based on what it did in its nascent state while occupying her living room. She was also certain her friend would never admit it.

She explored the examples under the Service subcategory, and then winced and backed out when all the examples suggested they’d bring out the worst of both Sash’s competitive streak and her bossy streak. But there had to be something…. She opened a window to search the local club guide, and, drawing a blank there, sought help.

“Winter Lazuli Delta,” she said quietly, activating her phone’s link to the primary West Anne majordomo AI.

“I’m listening,” said Winter in her calm big-sisterly voice as a little geometric icon spun to life above the corner of the Club Charter form. “What can I help you with, Ember?”

“I’m trying to register Sash’s club for her,” began Ember. “But I’m having trouble on the type.”

“I can imagine,” said Winter, warm amusement turning her icon pink. “I assume even Sash doesn’t know yet, which is why she offloaded the work onto you.”

With a sigh, Ember said, “Yeah. I can guess what kind of club would make her happiest though.  What kind of club is the Case Club? I couldn’t find them in the guide.”

Bubbling laughter in her voice, Winter said, “Ah, yes, them. We thought it better than nobody accidentally stumbled into that group.”

“But how would they be listed?”

“Ah… technically their type is now ‘Shenanigans.’ It’s an admin-only category, so you won’t be able to select it.”

“Shenanigans,” said Ember incredulously, before a giggle escaped.

“They earned it after the water balloon incident a few months ago,” said Winter firmly. “But before that they were in Service Activities. Are you planning to imitate them?”

Ember groaned, putting her hand over her face.”No. Absolutely not. Although I don’t know why I’m even bothering. Sash is going to overwrite everything later anyhow.”

“You’re such a good friend to Sash,” said Winter brightly. “She really depends on you.”

“I know,” grumbled Ember, and then immediately felt guilty about it. “I mean, I’m looking forward to having a club room, too. I just don’t want it to go to her head, or she and Nyx will end up dragging me into something weird.”

“At least you won’t be alone?” suggested Winter. “There’s quite a nice young man waiting for you at the Adaption Center. And I’ve heard Fior can be very firm herself.”

Ember recognized the phrasing and smiled. “This is gossip, Winter?”

“It’s certainly not privileged information. Pike has a social connection with her. I think that’s why she picked Anne Park to visit.” Pike Cerulean Gamma was one of the galen-class medical AIs assigned to Anne Park. AIs were allowed to participate in club activities during their leisure hours, but the AI code of ethics demanded they only join clubs in neighborhoods far from their own.

“Oh.” Ember frowned. “She’s already in a club?” Of course, lots of people were in more than one club. Ember herself had auxiliary membership in a handful, but she was pretty sure those would be seeing even less of her once Sash had assigned her a ‘leadership position’ in ‘Club Sash.’

“That is privileged information. You’ll have to ask her yourself.”

Thoughtfully, Ember said, “I think I will. Thanks, Winter.”

The icon representing Winter flashed and then dimmed as the AI turned her focus elsewhere. Ember stared out the window for a moment and then realized the train had already entered the district set aside for the space port. She was almost to her destination.

Quickly, keeping in mind that nothing was set in stone and that Sash would be the one to have to justify any changes, Ember selected Activity/Performance for the Club Type, left ‘competitive’ unchecked, accepted the proposed membership requirements and filled out the rest of the required data. She submitted the form just as the train slid to a stop in a cavernous station that was just as underused as the train itself.

When Ember disembarked, her phone lit up with a walking map that guided her out of the dim station and into the covered arcade that offered access to the massive spaceport itself, along with all the various support structures for the neighborhood. She wondered at first why the arcade roof was extended on such a nice day, but that quickly took a backseat to looking at everything else unusual.

While the station had been relatively empty, the street thronged with as many people as she saw in her own neighborhood during a festival. But unlike in Anne Park, here it seemed like at least half of them were exos of some variety: aliens, cyborg humans, even what looked like a large anthro robot. She’d been here on a couple of Primary field trips, of course, but it had never been so crowded those days, and the only alien her class had really gotten close to had been a dartur administrator in the spaceport itself who had showed them around a dartur ship.

Her phone chirped at her, waking her from her dazed staring, and then flashed the map at her once again. “Oh yes,” said Ember. “Thank you.” She followed the dotted line.

As she walked, the map helpfully pointed out the Dartur Federation Embassy, the General Alien Residence, the alley that led to the dwellings of Dominion citizens who chose to live in the Exo District, and the Shopping Promenade wedged into another alley. It also didn’t identify a number of other, more ramshackle structures, except with the universal ‘yuck’ symbol.

Ember wondered if it had been Winter who had prepared the map for her, or if it was a general map distributed by the Exo District majordomo. It didn’t much matter; she wasn’t inclined to go see if she agreed with the ‘yuck’ designation. She hadn’t come to the Exo District looking for an adventure. And now that she thought about that, she realized how glad she was that Sash had dumped this task on her. Whatever Sash’s other chore was, she must have considered it crucial to give up this treat.

The Adaption Center For Returnees was a modest little building crammed in between two yuck symbols that appeared to be a bar and game hall. Just within was a lobby where a cheerful older woman sat at a low desk with a display screen, along with three couches and several video screens on the walls.

Intrigued by the human admin, Ember said, “Hello. Are you a returnee?”

The woman smiled at her. “No, I’m a state worker. My sister is an expat but I’m afraid this is as far as I’ve ever had the courage to go. Are you interested in sponsoring a returnee? We have several in waiting right now.”

“We’re putting together a club,” explained Ember. A pang of guilt struck her. “Several… do they usually wait long?”

“Not usually. A club, eh? Let me see… Let’s get your name and ward so I can verify there’s housing available near you.”

“Ember.West Anne Park.”

“Ah, yes. Actually, your group has already been matched with one of our guests.” The admin glanced up with an approving look. “It’s not so common that sponsors think to contact us ahead of time.”

Ember giggled nervously. “You have to give our majordomo credit for that. I think she really wants to get us into a club room. Do I need to do anything now?”

“Have a seat. I’ll get Leander back here and his room packed up.” The admin tapped out a message on her screen and then stood up and went through an invisible door in the back wall that opened at her touch.

Ember sat down, looking at the video screens. One of them was a view on the organized chaos of the game hall, while the the second looked down into the quiet bar next door. The third showed a recent episode from a slice of life drama Ember didn’t watch.

Her phone, sensing her restless gaze, buzzed after a moment to offer her a local interactive about the returnees of the Adaption Center, with demographic data and a few example stories. That caught her interest, and she studied the data. Apparently, most of the returnees were either older adults ready to take advantage of Secure Life as a comfortable retirement, or orphan children shipped back to the Dominion by alien states confident that the Dominion would accept and care for them properly.

Ember poked through the example stories and then blinked as she came across a pair of familiar faces, albeit much younger than she knew them: Salem and their father Ron, who lived in East Anne. Salem’s mother had been an expat, so the toddler Salem, carrying the Dominion mitochrondrial marker, automatically had Dominion citizenship. Ron lacked the marker, his ancestors being from a much later wave of Earth space travel, but Rhona Lo had welcomed him anyhow.

It was a sweet story but for Ember, who knew Ron personally, it was also food for thought. Personality-wise, Salem was a little unusual, but they were almost average compared to their father’s exuberance. Although Ron had long since acquired the citizenship marker, he still stood out at neighborhood gathering by virtue of his sheer enthusiasm about being in Mist-Raich.

But no, that couldn’t be a trait associated with all adult returnees, could it? She was sure there were other older returnees in Anne Park but she couldn’t even remember who they were, because they’d blended so well.

Was she even getting an adult? Winter had said something about a nice young man, which probably ruled out a retiree. But that term could just as easily be applied to a Primary kid as somebody her own age, especially when you were an ageless AI.

Ember spent a while trying to decide if she’d rather deal with the fallout of getting a kid, or getting a copy of Ron, gradually getting more and more anxious about the whole affair. When the admin finally returned, followed by a young man carrying a duffel bag, Ember leapt to her feet out of sheer agony of nerves.

And paused, and blinked at the returnee.

He was human, of course. Around her age. And stunningly attractive. He had piercing blue eyes under raven brows, spacer-pale skin, and neatly cut black hair. He wore unobjectionable clothing from a Secure label, and had a compact build that made him look smaller than he was until he stepped up to Ember with a half half-outstretched.

“Your hair,” he said in a delicious spacer accent, his own eyes wide. “I love it. Is that a mod offered by Secure Health?”

Ember touched her long hair self-consciously, with its rainbow-tipped ends. “Just the ash blonde,” she said. “Nyx and Sash, um, you’ll meet them, they insist on dying it every few months.”

The admin, smiling, said, “Ember, this is Leander. Leander, this is Ember, your sponsor. Ember, I’ve sent the handbook to your phone, although I think Leander has already memorized both versions of it. If you’ll just give me a thumbprint to show your formal acceptance…”

Ember dragged her gaze away from Leander’s amazing blue eyes and looked down at her phone, where a thumbprint sensor flashed on the screen. “I accept,” she said, and pressed the sensor. Her screen flashed as it sent the data to the Adaption Center’s storage.

“And that’s that. Ember will get you set up with your new majordomo and your housing, Leander. Do come back and visit sometime. We always like to hear from returnees.”

Somehow, Ember managed to get herself and Leander back on the train to the rest of the city. He’d been quiet on the walk, although he kept staring at her in a way she found uncomfortable. She wasn’t really used to being looked at, because normally Nyx and Sash were around, happily hogging all available attention.

She felt like she ought to talk, but she had no idea what to say. Suddenly Sash’s complete obliviousness to how other people felt about her seemed very attractive. She wouldn’t worry about saying the wrong thing, about being rude, or inadverdantly cruel, or nosy, or unfriendly. She would just be… Sash.

Once they were settled on the train, sitting across from each other, she made herself say something. “So your mother was from Rhona Lo?”

He smiled at her, and a shiver ran down her spine. “My gran, actually. Uh, my grandmother, I mean. She had the raising of me for a few years, while my mom ran around the galaxy.”

“Where are they now?”

His smile flickered and became a solemn expression, turning his head to look out the window at the city below. “Both dead. I’ve been on my own a while now. Got tired of it, decided to see what the Driftspace Dominion was all about, since I already had the genetic passkey.”

“How does that work?” Ember asked, fascinated. “I mean, getting here from outside.”

“Oh, your Empress makes it easy. She pays a bounty to any ship that delivers a willing returnee to  Outland Station at the edge of the Drift. Not enough to justify the entire trip, but enough to pay for a berth on any ship already heading that way.” He flashed another smile at her. “And once you get to Outland, it’s easy. Weird, but easy.”

“Weird how? I’m sorry, I’m asking so many questions. I suppose this is all in the handbook?”

“I don’t mind at all,” Leander said gently. “I don’t know if you’d find it weird, though. I’m used to paying for everything, especially on a space station. But as soon as they scanned me at Outland Station, that became a non-issue. And Outland Station and the Dominion ships have artificial gravity without spinning, which kept startling me. And the deva who brought me to Rhona Lo was really affectionate, like…” He paused, his gaze going out the window again as he searched for words. “Like she’d been an old friend of my gran’s who heard about me from her. I know now that’s just how a lot of Dominion people are to returnees, but it felt very strange at the time.”

“No asura breaks or anything on the trip?” Ember justified the eagerness of her query by telling herself Sash wouldn’t hesitate in asking. After all, dealing with asura breaks was the primary purpose of ship devas.

Leander stilled for a moment, and then shook his head. “Not on my trip here. I… I saw the asura effect in the Exo district, though.”

“Oh, well, I’m not surprised by that. All those cyborgs and stuff. Everybody says it’s pretty easy for an asura effect to start without anybody noticing in the Exo district.” Ember didn’t pry for details. She didn’t entirely know why, but asura breaks out in space was an exciting idea, while an asura break in her own city was just an unpleasantness to be escaped as soon as possible.

“This wasn’t anything like a cyborg, though. I mean, I’ve heard that’s why cyborgs aren’t accepted outside the Exo district… because people can’t tell the difference between them and people who have been impacted by an asura effect… but this wasn’t anything I’d mistake for something else.”

Uncomfortably, Ember said, “But it got cleaned up, right? I think the district has its own dedicated deva—”

“It was resolved,” agreed Leander quietly, and then changed the subject. “Mirahime at the Adaption Center said you represented a club that I’ll be joining? Some sort of performing arts?”

Ember flushed and twiddled her phone. “I don’t know what we’ll be doing. Probably just hanging out, most of the time. But I knew Sash would hate the idea of calling it a social club, so—”

“Sash. And Nyx?” He gave her a sweet smile that made her heart skip a beat. “They sound like real characters. Tell me what I’m in for?”

After thinking about that for a moment, Ember confessed, “I’m not sure I can. You’ll meet them tonight.” She gave him an anxious look. “It’s not that I’m avoiding answering your questions or anything. You answered my questions, after all. But I wouldn’t do them justice. Ask me something else.”

“Hmm.” He gazed out the window for a while. Finally, he said, “Are you ever bored?”

“No,” said Ember immediately. “I’m not allowed to be bored.” She hesitated and then added, “By which I mean other people get bored faster than I do, and that prevents me from getting bored. Were you bored at the Adaption Center?”

After looking at her for a long moment, he said, “Nah,” and proceeded to deftly entertain her with stories of the various entertainments and classes he’d consumed while waiting for a match. Ember, glad they’d found a subject they were both comfortable talking about, happily listened.