“It’s a mix of blood from all over the place. They don’t taste too good, but they’ll keep us alive,” he explained, picking up some bottles of water, before moving over to the trader to pay for the goods.
With the serious part out of the way, we wandered through the rest of the marketplaces, enjoying one another’s company while we had a spare moment to breathe. Here, with such an eclectic mix of species, we could be together without fearing disapproval. Nobody seemed to care who we were or what we did; they just wanted to get on with their own lives.
I was looking at one of the stalls in the pharmacy section, wondering if they had anything like the Vysanthean herbs, when I heard Navan shout, “Catch!”
I turned in time to see a box hurtling toward me and caught it deftly in one hand. There was a picture of a blue-skinned alien on the front, with long red hair down to her knees. I didn’t need instructions to know what this was—I’d had enough ill-advised experiences with hair dye to know a box of it when I saw it.
“What’s this for?” I asked.
He smiled, brushing a strand of my hair behind my ear. “I thought it might be a good idea, given that your face is on a wanted poster.”
“Do you have a thing for redheads? Some secret fantasy you’ve been hiding from me all this time?” I joked.
He looked horrified. “No, absolutely not! I love you just the way you are. There isn’t a single thing I’d change about you,” he insisted, leaning down to kiss me on the lips. Holding me close, he whispered in my ear, “The moment I saw you, I knew you’d always be the most beautiful creature in the room, no matter where you were, or who you were with. To me, you are perfection.”
I grinned, leaning up for another kiss. “To me, you are impossibly smooth.”
“I don’t want you worrying, that’s all. No matter how you look, you will always be beautiful to me,” he replied bashfully.
“I love you,” I said, holding his face in my hands, my heart feeling full.
As I wandered over to the trader to pay for the dye, I briefly contemplated slipping the box into my waistband. I didn’t want to spend money on it, not when I knew we could use those credits on something more practical. The only problem was, with all the cameras watching from every possible angle, there was no way I wouldn’t get caught. So, I did what I had to do, paying for the hair dye with the credits we had left.
“I hate wasting credits,” I muttered, rejoining Navan.
“It’s better than being thrown in a port-planet brig, believe me,” he assured me, putting his arm around my shoulders. “Where to next?”
“I’m going to need a restroom, to make my full Jessica Rabbit transformation.” I chuckled, though I was actually starting to feel a little bit nervous about going ginger. There was a reason I’d only ever used dye once before.
Navan frowned. “Who’s Jessica Rabbit?”
“You’re going to find out very soon,” I teased. He led the way across another open courtyard, toward an outbuilding made of rusting ship’s wings, where the restrooms were housed.
It wasn’t glamorous in the slightest, with the pungent scent of stale bodily fluids lingering in the air and the buzz of strange insects thrumming in my ears. Breathing through my mouth, I left Navan outside to guard the entrance as I stepped into the bathroom and locked myself in, sliding the bolt and wedging the handle with a tall trash can, just in case someone got past Navan.
Walking up to a row of questionable-looking sinks, which were strewn with all kinds of mess—none of which I wanted to dwell on—I took a long, hard look at myself in the cracked mirror. I looked older than I had the last time I’d stopped to check my reflection, the dark circles prominent under my eyes, my lips cracked, my eyeballs bloodshot. Given my current state, I supposed being a redhead couldn’t exactly make me look worse.
Opening the box, I looked at the instructions, which were all laid out in picture form for universal ease. Inside, there was a strange plastic shower cap with a button on the front. I took it out, and the cap started inflating as it hit the air. Glancing down at the pictures, I realized I was supposed to put this thing on my head—there was no liquid, no mixing, no fuss. Following the instructions, I removed my hairband and bundled every strand into the shower cap, before pressing the button at the front. It lit up with a blue light, and the elasticated plastic suddenly sucked to my scalp, every atom of air being vacuumed away.
Relax, I’m sure this is normal, I told myself. I could feel something happening under the shower cap, but I didn’t know what to make of it. Something felt cold and wet, and deeply unnatural, but then again, I was using alien hair dye for the first time. I looked down at the pamphlet, but the instructions pretty much stopped after the steps I’d just gone through. All I could do was wait for the blue light to go off, as per the pictures, and hope for the best.
As I waited, I thought about what had just happened in the market hall. It had been playing on my mind, but I’d managed to shrug it off until now, staring myself down in the mirror. Somehow, this ridiculous-looking young woman in a shrunken shower cap had become a criminal, willing to steal anything, even when she had the money to pay. I couldn’t believe how quickly the shift had happened, and it made me feel a twinge of shame.
What would Jean and Roger think, if they could see you now? I wondered. In all honesty, it wasn’t a question I could answer. I didn’t know what to make of me, so how could they?
All of this is to save Lauren and the rest of the universe. You have to do what you have to do, to stop the coldbloods from creating that immortality elixir, I reassured myself, trying to convince myself that it was the truth. Angie might think the compass was useless, but I hadn’t given up yet.
The blue light flickered off as a beep sounded, and the air was released back into the shower cap device. I removed it with shaking hands, nervous to see what it looked like underneath. Glossy, copper locks cascaded past my shoulders, each strand a burnished bronze shade. I’d expected it to be wet, but my hair was completely dry, with no hint of my old color. Or my old self, for that matter.
I stared at myself in the mirror, unable to believe the transformation. I still looked like me, but, with a hint of amusement, I realized this color suited the girl I’d become, far more than the previous shade of ordinary brown. Still, it was going to take some getting used to.
Knowing I needed to keep my hair out of the way, for practicality’s sake, I braided the shiny, bronzed tendrils until they rested over my shoulder in a long rope. My hair really had grown a lot since Texas, but there was a time and a place for having it loose and flowing, and now wasn’t it.
I threw the shower cap in the trash, along with the box, and stepped out into the afternoon sunlight, where Navan was waiting patiently. His jaw dropped when he saw me, and a wide grin spread across my face. There was something about being a redhead that made me feel mischievous. I liked it.
“So, what do you think?” I asked, slipping my hands around his waist.
“I like it a lot,” he murmured. “But you’d look good no matter what, so it’s cheating.”
“You don’t feel like going ginger yourself?”
He grinned. “I’ve never thought about it. What do you think?”
“Nah, you’re good as you are.” I leaned up on tiptoe to kiss him passionately on the lips, catching his mouth with mine as I ran my hands through his hair. His fingertips traced a pattern up the length of my spine. “Come on, we should be getting back to the others. Food comes before kisses, I’m afraid.”
“If all I had were your kisses, I’d be a satisfied man,” he retorted.
“No, you’d be a hungry man.” I laughed, grabbing his hand and pulling him along as we headed back through the compound toward the gates. On the way out, I noticed the woman with the spines staggering down the path, clutching something under her arm. I tried to get a closer look, but she was holding it too tightly to her body. All I could do was hope it was the piece she needed to get off this port-planet.
Ten mi
nutes later, we reached the edge of the shallow slope that led down to the shipyard. Standing at the lip, I could see the shadows of our group stretching out from under the shelter of a wrecked vessel’s turbine. They were sitting on the ground, and Mort seemed to be sleeping, but there was no sign of Bashrik yet.
“We come bearing gifts!” I shouted, as we approached where they were lounging.
Angie looked up, her face morphing into a mask of shock at the sight of me. “Whoa!” I wished she’d say more, but I knew not to expect much after the argument we’d had earlier.
“You look like some Celtic warrior goddess! Very cool!” Ronad enthused.
“Goddess of the eternally freckled and sunburnt, maybe,” Mort added wryly, flashing a cheeky grin. I knew not to be offended by anything he said anymore.
“I’ll take that as a compliment coming from you, turkey-neck,” I fired back playfully. “How are your pools of sweat, anyway? Actually, don’t answer that, or I might not be able to get my food down.”
Mort’s red-veined eyes brightened. “Food?”
“Oh, yes, we have quite the smorgasbord.”
With the mood instantly elevated at the prospect of a good meal, Navan and I distributed the food and water. Everyone eagerly took theirs. It felt wrong to eat without Bashrik, but he’d soon be back, hopefully bearing some good news.
I opened my packet of dried food and poured some water on it, marveling as it bloomed to five times its size. I had no idea what it was supposed to be, but it was sandwich-like, with some sort of mystery paste in the middle. And, frankly, it was delicious. I wolfed it down as slowly as I could, knowing I’d end up with a stomachache if I ate it too fast. The others were doing the same. Mort had settled on a packet like mine, while Angie was chowing down on what looked like a block of ramen. Meanwhile, Ronad and Navan were rehydrating a sachet of blood in one of the water bottles, sharing it between them.
Satisfied and refreshed, we all sat back in the balmy heat of Wander’s afternoon sun and waited for Bashrik to return.
An hour later, the beat of approaching wings stirred us from our lazy rest. Bashrik swooped down, landing softly on the ground. He flashed a shy look in Angie’s direction, evidently wondering whether to greet her properly or not, but she was still coming around from her afternoon nap, yawning loudly.
“What’d you find?” Navan asked, offering him the bottle of rehydrated blood. Bashrik took it gratefully, taking big gulps. A trickle of crimson ran down the side of his chin. Only when he’d drunk his fill did he reply.
“There’s another shipyard on the other side of Wander, just as we thought,” he said, wiping his mouth. “It’s a real docking yard, way swankier than this scrapheap. I scouted out a few potential options, but I wanted your opinions first.”
“What’s the security like?” Mort chimed in.
“Fairly lax, from what I could see,” Bashrik replied. “There were a few cameras dotted around, but only a couple of patrolling guards. Nothing we can’t handle.”
My heart started beating faster. “How do we get there from here, without you having to make a million round trips and exhausting yourself?”
Bashrik smiled excitedly. “There’s a maintenance transport that leaves here every hour, ferrying mechanics and ship owners from one side to the other. Sometimes, owners come here for the cheaper parts, but they don’t stick around. We just need to hitch a ride with them.”
“Will they let us on?” I pressed.
“I don’t see why not. We’ve at least got to try it,” he urged, his eyes widening as he noticed my hair for the first time. “Nice hair! Suits you.”
I smiled. “Thanks. It was Navan’s idea.”
Navan looked like he was about to protest, but I flashed him a cheeky look, letting him know I was only teasing. I half expected Angie to make a comment about Bashrik not getting any bright ideas, or something like that, but she remained weirdly silent, seeming deep in thought.
I focused on the task ahead. Bashrik was right. If it was the only way to the other side, then we had to get on that transport ship. New, redheaded Riley wouldn’t take no for an answer—I refused to let her.
I exhaled sharply, looking around the group, my stomach clenching with nerves. “So, we ready to steal a ship?”
Chapter Six
Wanting to reach the rendezvous before the maintenance transport arrived, we headed along the perimeter of the shipyard, until Bashrik told us to stop. He’d seen it set down beside a battered signpost, which stood a good distance away from the waystation compound, the actual sign long since rusted away into a gnarled stub. I presumed it was all the way out here to avoid any riffraff getting on board, though the thought irked me a little bit. What right did anyone have to decide who could travel to the other side of the planet and who couldn’t?
I didn’t have long to simmer over the situation, as the chug of a huge, barge-looking vessel thrummed through the faint tink-tink of the shipyard’s mechanics. It was by far the bulkiest ship I’d seen there, with black smoke rising out of several chimneys and a deafening engine that made us all cover our ears as it descended beside the rusted signpost.
As it clanged to a standstill, the interior turbines still whirring to a halt, a thick metal hatch heaved open and a gangway slid to the ground. A small group of mechanics and reclaimers came down first, dressed in overalls and boiler-suits of varying, muddied colors. They laughed amongst themselves, evidently familiar with one another, throwing heavy tool bags over their shoulders as they headed for the shipyard below.
A smaller cluster of well-dressed individuals followed, looking shifty. Their eyes settled on us with suspicion, but they didn’t pause to say anything. Instead, they hurried off after the workmen, clearly hoping to get a good deal on whatever it was they’d come here for.
“Where you wanting to go?” a voice asked from within the shadows of the transport. A moment later, a burly, bearded figure emerged, smoke puffing out of his mouth from a metallic device he held to his lips. He was a similar kind of creature to the old woman who’d been bartering for a part, though his skin was a lurid yellow and his spines were an equally fluorescent shade of green. I guessed, like in nature on Earth, the color scheme meant he was somehow poisonous.
“We were hoping you might take us back to the docking yards. We couldn’t find what we were looking for here,” Navan said confidently.
The spiny man shrugged. “Makes no difference to me. Hop on. Though I’ll warn you now, I don’t take requests. You go where I need to go, and that’s that.”
“That sounds fine to us,” Navan replied, ushering us up the gangway.
“Your sort sit through there,” he instructed, gesturing through a narrow corridor toward a deck at the far end of the barge.
We followed it, entering a surprisingly pleasant room with cushioned benches all around and a table full of refreshments. Most of the food had been eaten by our predecessors, but there was some good stuff left, and a pitcher of ice-cold water to wash it down. I was still full from the weird sandwich I’d eaten, but I knew better than to pass up an opportunity to eat for free. Grabbing some cookie-like bars, I stuffed them into my pockets, before downing a cupful of cool water.
Ten minutes later, with no other passengers boarding, the maintenance transport took off, ferrying us over to the wealthier side of Wander. From the window, I watched the landscape whizz past, homesickness rearing its ugly head again. Glancing down, I could have been looking at the fields of Texas we’d left, what felt like a lifetime ago.
Navan walked up to me, distracting me from the view of the world beyond the transport. Without a word, he slipped his arms around me and pulled me tightly to him, somehow knowing exactly what I needed. I clung to him, gripping him desperately, pushing back the tears that threatened to fall. Holding him like this made me remember that I wasn’t alone out here. Even if it felt like my friend hated me, I still had Navan, showing me that someone cared.
My gaze turned toward Angie, who was nes
tled into Bashrik’s chest on the bench opposite. I willed her to look at me, telling myself everything between us would be okay if she just looked back, but her eyes were closed.
Just under an hour later, we arrived at the swanky docking yards that Bashrik had spoken about. Gleaming vessels, forged from countless kinds of metal, were tucked into parking bays, their smooth curves reflecting the sunlight, blinding me through the window. Smartly uniformed dockworkers hurried along steel walkways, repairing the expensive-looking ships and bringing luggage to the inhabitants.
The transport driver set us down on a wide platform, where the dock walkways branched off in a crisscrossing network. A group of workmen were waiting to head over to the scrapyards, with a nervous cluster of finely dressed people standing behind them, looking like fish out of water.
As soon as the transport set down, we headed out into the hubbub of Wander’s wealthier side, moving toward the docks. At the far end, down a broad central avenue, elegant glass and chrome buildings rose up, looking sleek and futuristic. Although, I supposed this was the future, at least where humans were concerned.
“Let’s scope out the ships,” Navan said quietly, as we wandered down the central avenue between the docking bays, trying to look nonchalant.
“Mort, can you morph into one of the mechanics?” I asked, coming to a halt beside a vacant-looking vessel. There were no members of staff running around this particular bay, dressed in the smart navy-blue uniforms that marked them out.
The shifter rolled his eyes. “Little old me, coming to the rescue. Again. I should charge per change, for all the damage it’s doing to my poor body.”
“Quit your whining and get on with it!” Bashrik hissed. Evidently, he shared my fears—we were going to start drawing attention to ourselves if we didn’t move quicker.
“Sheesh, what pissed in your blood this morning?” Mort muttered, ducking behind a pillar so he could morph into one of the uniformed staff members. Emerging casually, he brushed down the front of his suit jacket and raised an amused eyebrow. “Now you have me, what do you want with me?”
Hotbloods 6: Allies Page 5
