Chaos Theory (Cosmic Lovely)

Chapter Four

Kali knocked on the archway before popping her head around the bend. “Sunshine?”

Ash blonde hair wild, Rikard Loklear sat curled over his ComUni. The hovering screen was black and covered in colourful bits of code. He sort of muttered his own greeting in reply, but did not actually register she was there.

Kali walked behind him, nosey, but ready to back off if he commanded it.

She watched with daughterly pride as her father’s long fingers nimbly streaked across the electric blue keyboard being holographically beamed in front of him on the desk. To an observer greater than five meters away it would seem as if he tapped the air.

“Ten minutes and I’ll be right with you.” His hand shot out to pat Howl twice on the head before his fingers went back to work on the VirtuaPad. “Did you enjoy the breakfast dumplings I smelt your father creating for you?”

“I have yet to taste them. He wants you to come now not five minutes from now.”

“Standard. I’ll come ten minutes from now.”

She scrunched her face, knowing ten minutes and the sarcastic message would make Creighton pissed.

They would fight, and she hated that.

Distracted by the code, Kali figured if she pointed out a mistake, he’d be pulled from his focus. She bit her lip. As usual, his work was near flawless. It needed to be when you were a highly ranked security officer for the Alliance.

Kali had been taught to be as masterly as he was, maybe better in the future.

“Mistake,” she murmured and pointed it out to him two rows from the top. “See here. This sequence won’t work in the mark-up language you’re using. You probably need to redo this whole section. You don’t have time to do that, and carrying on is a waste of time until you’ve corrected the error.” She patted his shoulders. “Come now. Please?”

Flying fingers froze, and Rikard blinked at what she pointed to. There was silence before the tension and disbelief vanished. His expression shifted to pride. “Thanks, princess.” He rubbed his hands tiredly over his whiskered cheeks.

He turned to pierce Kali with sea blue eyes, a genetic trait of the Loklears, and ran an appraising look at her thick pyjamas, fighting a smile when he figured out the pattern emblazoned on the fabric was fluffy bunnies on fire. “Kali, my dove, what happened to that lovely sleepwear we bought you last weekend?”

She cringed. “Max spilled sauce on it. It stained.” She grabbed his hand and pulled. “Come on, Papa wants to go. He has a meeting, and he’s got the, “I’m stressed and going to get more crows feet,” look on his face. You know how cranky he gets when you make him late.” She looked at the ComUni. “Computer, hibernate.”

The VirtuaPad folded until it was a symbol floating in front of the blank ComUni screen.

Kali pulled again, and Rikard lifted out the high-backed chair. His eyes twinkled when she tugged on his hand.

Rikard was a gentle giant whom loved Creighton and Kali, and would do anything for them. Raised in the upper echelons of HiCaste society, as the second born son in the Loklear clan it was expected he lead a privileged and blessed life. His peers cringed at what he had; thinking him better than what he “settled” for, but to Rikard, life was bliss.

He was in love with a man who was handsome and intelligent, tempered severity with kindness, and who loved Kali as much as he did.

He had married that man, and given him his last name, something that was not done in modern society, but something Rikard had to do. It was insurance. If anything ever happened to him, Creighton and Kali were lawfully able to demand the sanctuary his family name provided.