Bannockburn Binding (Beloved Bloody Time) by Tracy Cooper-Posey Page B

structural girders and docking ports that serviced every inter-planetary ship that came to Earth. The industrial sections were glued together with living modules, corridors, greenhouses and all the other paraphernalia human life needed to survive in space.
    It looked more like a child’s attempt to build something with Meccano than a serviceable, functioning structure through which millions of people poured each year, and in which another five thousand permanently lived.
    When the beanstalk shuttle slid up into the belly of it and artificial gravity kicked in, Charbonneau gratefully slid out of the harness. Weightlessness was a curious sensation he was in no hurry to repeat, although vampires couldn’t get sick like humans could.
    “We have to hurry now,” Justin told him, moving up the ramp into the main customs hall. “There’s no formalities for us, as we’re going through to the agency. Here.” He indicated a side passage and they both ducked into it. “But we do have to get to the shuttle so we can rendezvous with the Agency as it swings by, which it will do in about thirty-five minutes.”
    “Is its orbit very close?”
    “Far enough to avoid colliding close enough to make it convenient to get there, if you have to use this way.”
    “There’s another way?”
    “They’ll explain that one to you, I’m sure.” Justin strode along the corridor, and turned right into another that intersected. This one lay on the outside of the station and the walls were corrugated and clear, like glass, protected by girders that curved over it.
    It gave Charbonneau an unexpected view of Earth. The planet hovered overhead, completely dark except for the shimmer of sunlight on its eastern edge. “Stunning,” he murmured, wishing he could linger to admire.
    “Permanent night. Now you understand why the Agency chose the satellite as headquarters.”
    Ahead of them and clearly waiting for them, a young man in street clothes stood watching them come toward him. He waved them on. “Ferry is warmed up and waiting. All set to go. Our window closes in five, though.”
    “Thanks, Tinker,” Justin told the boy as they drew closer. “This is Constant Charbonneau Villeneuve. Our newest recruit.”
    Tinker nodded as he turned to stride down the corridor, leading them. “Yep, I heard all about you. All the women going ga-ga.” He turned his head to look back at them and rolled his eyes. “You’d think we were getting royalty.”
    “Tinker,” Justin snapped.
    “Well, y’d think, huh? Are you royalty?”
    The question was sharply put and it took a second for Charbonneau to realize the lad was speaking directly to him.
    “There are no royalty in France. Don’t you remember your history?”
    “Remember?” the boy spluttered. He looked at Justin. “He doesn’t know.”
    “Know what?” Charbonneau asked.
    “I’m human, is what. You vamps, you can live forever, but you make shitty pilots. Your inner ear fluids ain’t fluid. So you don’t get space sick, but you ain’t got balance, either. So you can’t judge worth shit when you have to bring something in and line it up.”
    Charbonneau blinked.
    Tinker laughed. “You ain’t been around your own kind much, have you?”
    Such a casual explanation of a basic function of vampire physiology that he had never even considered before was shocking. But Tinker had already moved on, both physically and verbally. As he moved ahead of them up the passage, he spoke with his chin on his shoulder. “That must be how you survived the Revelation and the Censure, huh? No brethren around you to turn you in when they put the thumbscrews on ‘em.”
    Charbonneau glanced at Justin, who just laughed. “You’ll get used to him.”
    “He isn’t afraid of me…us, at all.”
    “Why should I be afraid?” Justin said, as if Charbonneau had spoken to him directly. “You look like you fed recently and now you’re with the Agency, you’ve got a vested interest in keeping things sweet