Not that he was in any position to make demands of the station’s engineers, but a small maglev rail that could transport Valbara’nay visitors above the dangerous crowds would be a welcome addition. There was certainly room for it, the space between the deck and the painted ceiling was mostly going to waste.A pack of Borealans recoiled as he passed in front of them, alarmed by his sudden appearance, perhaps assuming that he was some kind of escaped pet. Their round ears swiveled atop their heads, tracking him as he vanished into the bushes.Once he was securely nestled in the shrubs, Tepin began to make his way upspin once more, as the Earth’nay referred to it. There was no North and South on a space station, and so its inhabitants referred to the directions as either up or downspin, depending on the rotation of the habitat. He followed the long planter until he reached the end, hopping down and coming across an information kiosk. How opportune, he needed to decide where to head. And he still looked every inch thebiker he'd once been with his long graying hair pulled back in a grizzledponytail, his pointed goatee, and his massive arms covered with colorfultattoos: skulls, tigers, flying eyeballs, swords, and scrolled legendsextolling the virtues of honor, freedom, and rebellion. He was the kindof man other men instinctively gave a wide berth. His friends, though,knew him for the sweetheart he really was."What kind of goodies have we got today?" He scrutinized the displaycase. " Orange spice muffins. Where're the tarts? I heard a rumor someonewas baking my favorite. Don't tell me they're gone already?" Don't worry," Marcia said, "I saved you one." That's my girl. Well go fetch it, for crissakes. I'm starved. Andparched. Where's that coffee you promised anyway?" Coming right up sir!" Marcia saluted and ducked back into the makeshiftkitchen.Even after three years, it stunned her when Marcia thought about her luckin finding a man like Walt with whom to share her.
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