by Lisa Lace
"It's hardly morning. The sun's almost down already," Thiago informed her. He wrinkled his nose, wiping off his neck. Her hair had splashed him with a drizzle of water. "I was just about to wake you. I'm stopping by the Jova Tavern to pick up some dinner and a pint of Pasquin ale. Would you like me to get you anything?"
"Why don't I come with you?"
Thiago threw his head back in hearty laughter. The marking on his forehead glowed briefly, and he turned toward Eden. His smile disappeared when he saw the stone cold look on her face.
"You're serious. I'm sorry, that is a bad idea."
"And why not?" Eden demanded, narrowing her eyes in a challenge. "Are you telling me I'm going to be trapped here for the rest of my life? Do you plan to treat me as if I'm a monster chained up in the attic?"
"I think you're a bit dramatic," Thiago said calmly, his thick, flaxen brows raised.
"I don't know about that." Eden tapped her chin for emphasis. "One, I'm one of countless intergalactic human trafficking victims, which has been going on for God knows how long. Two, I was beamed hundreds of lightyears away from Earth and my family to an unknown planet. Three, my husband's an alien!"
Thiago coughed.
"I'm sorry, half-alien. I'm not dramatic at all. I think I'm rather calm."
"Half-Arkadian. The aliens here don't like it when people treat them as a single group. We consider it racist."
"Forgive me for being politically incorrect," Eden shot back sarcastically. Breathing heavily from the conclusion of her outburst, she realized she felt better after releasing her burdens. "You know what? I'm sorry. I keep biting your head off. You can't imagine the stress I'm under right now."
Eden jolted slightly in her seat as Thiago guided the ship to a bumpy landing. She squinted through the storm of dust settling beneath the windshield. Her heart sank as Thiago disappeared from the cockpit without saying a word.
"Hang on a second. Where are you going?" She must have really made him upset this time. It wasn't as if she was crabby for fun. But even if she was, who could blame her?
"Here – put these on."
She glanced up in surprise as Thiago reappeared in the doorway of the cockpit. He handed her a padded, floor-length cloak made from scales. It had a strong, distinctive smell. Motioning for her to remove her slippers, he gave her a cute pair of boots with platform soles. He clicked a minuscule button on the side, adding an extra three feet to their height. Eden's eyes bulged in disbelieving wonder as she stared at the shoes.
"Don't worry. They're self-balancing," said Thiago, as if reading Eden's mind. He quickly unbuckled the boots. "Hurry up, then. You wanted to come along, didn't you?"
"Yes!" exclaimed Eden. She unwrapped a white, featureless mask from the cloak and pulled it over her face as her slender figure vanished in the dark cape. "Thank you."
"Keep your hood on at all times and don't remove the mask for any reason. Not even once. It might get hot in there, but you need to cover yourself if you want to go out. The folks here don't take kindly to humans running around on the loose. Do we understand each other?"
"Of course. I'll remember."
"Good. Let's go."
"I never imagined a place like this existed in the universe."
Eden deeply exhaled as she stood in the entryway of the tavern, her round eyes shining. The massive front door slammed into her butt as it swung shut, knocking her forward and nearly off-balance. The interior of the building was much larger than it appeared from the outside. Foggy, bluish-green lighting illuminated various bustling food stalls on the sides. In between were clusters of bar tables and private booths throbbing with lively chatter and inebriated merriment.
Thiago was leading them toward an oval-shaped bar. As she tagged along behind him, she surveyed the patrons with curiosity. They were mainly drunken Blazians, with a sprinkling of other alien races she couldn't identify yet.
"Thirsty?" asked Thiago, handing her a fizzy purple drink in a glass shaped like a double-stranded DNA molecule. "It's pomado-honeyberry pop. There's not a big selection. It's the only non-alcoholic drink they have."
Eden took a hesitant sip. She grinned as she chugged back half the syrupy-sweet, tangy contents of the glass. "That was delicious."
"You like that garbage?" said Thiago incredulously, shaking his head. "Why am I surprised? Do you want to take a look at the menu? I can show you some more mainstream choices."
Eden wasn't listening to him. She focused on something directly over his shoulder. Thiago looked behind him at a group of elderly Blazians slowly trudging up the steps of the stage and taking positions familiar to them. The silver-haired aliens smiled toothless grins, waving at the whistling crowds. The snazzily dressed quintet unpacked oddly-shaped equipment, including sharp string instruments, rounded harmonicas, and an accordion with glowing keys.
The frontman tapped a cymbal on his hat to start them off while the rest of the band nodded along. On cue, a powerful wave of electric bluegrass swept the tavern, bringing the entire room to their feet. A group of voluptuous Blazians and alien women with sparkling piercings all over their bodies sauntered toward the dance floor with their partners. Eden lifted an eyebrow. Trashy dancing was recognizable everywhere in the universe. She watched curiously as curvy aliens ground their privates against each other.
"They're unbelievable!" Eden shouted over the music, cupping her hands over her mouth.
"The Khula Brothers have been around for over a century. They're something of an underground legend around here. Forget them. We don't have a lot of time."
Seeing the look of joy in her eyes, Thiago groaned under his breath.
"Stay here and finish the rest of the song. I'm going to pick out some food for us. I'll be right back. Don't move a muscle and don't do anything that comes naturally to you. Don't attract any attention whatsoever."
"Got it. I'm invisible," Eden muttered, pushing him away. "I'll have whatever you're having, thanks."
Thiago cut through the crowd and into an eatery on the opposite side of the tavern. Eden leaned back against the bar, lifting her mask to drain the rest of her drink. The rumbling burp from the shadows of her hood was thankfully drowned out by the energetic music. She raised her empty glass and swayed along to the beat. A group of drunken Blazian women elbowed their way to the front of the crowd and ripped open their tops to flash the band, earning a roar of raucous approval from the rest of the patrons.
Though Eden found herself wholeheartedly relishing the fun songs, she couldn't help but feel a faint tug on her heartstrings. She began to recall all the times her father would play his Ricky Skaggs bluegrass collection in their beat-up station wagon before the creditors repossessed it. Eden sat in the front and her younger sister Janine claimed the entire backseat. The Castle trio had memorized the words to every song and sang on the drive home from school. They weren't always in the correct key, but they made up for it with enthusiasm. That was, of course, before cancer rendered their father bedridden and helpless.
The bittersweet memory faded into another. Eden pictured the pale face of her younger sister. Janine had just acquired her driver's license. The second-hand Nissan she'd worked so hard to save for was now used to drive their father to and from his chemo appointments instead of the usual carefree activities of a 17-year-old.
Eden hoped the money from TerraMates would benefit her family during her unexplained absence.
Eden swallowed, blinking furiously in an attempt to snap herself out of her daze. As the song came to an end, the crowd exploded in wild applause, hoping for an encore. She had a big smile on her face and raised her glass again to whoop along with the audience. In her enthusiasm, she started pumping her fist in the air, accidentally colliding with the massive patron behind her.
She whirled around to apologize, only to have the blood drain from her face, making her natural pallor match the shade of her blank mask. A muscular Noxx official in army fatigues glowered at her, the slimy scales on his ghost-white face dripping wit
h the colored liquor from his empty glass. Eden had made the alien spill his drink on himself.
The Noxx sized her up, breathing heavily through his flared nostrils like an angry bull seeing the movements of the matador's cape. The milky, bright feathers on his head open simultaneously with the webbed wings on his back. He was preparing for combat. The patrons around them dispersed with startling speed.
Eden set her glass down on the bar and raised her palms defensively, retreating slowly. Before the alien could move any closer to Eden, Thiago appeared by her side, wielding a bar stool. He broke it over the official's head. Taken by surprise, the Noxx reeled backward and fell onto the floor, surrounded by fragmented stool splinters. The tavern flared up in blind-punching, table-flipping chaos. The band played on, providing a suitable soundtrack to the hysteria. Thiago and Eden crept out of the establishment in the frenzy.
"I thought I said don't draw attention. I left her for five minutes. That was a Noxx official. She must be out of her damn mind." Thiago polished off his grilled kobaru and grains bowl, muttering to himself grumpily under his breath between mouthfuls.
"I'm right here, you know," Eden reminded him from the passenger's seat. She lowered her eyes, trying to apologize again. "It was an accident. I'm sorry. I understand if you don't want me to leave the ship ever again."
"I never said that," said Thiago with a sigh. "We'll just have to stay with each other from now on. I strongly recommend you never venture out of here unsupervised."
"Thanks, Thiago," said Eden, smiling weakly. "I won't."
"Good. We'll test your understanding right away."
Eden gripped the edge of the dashboard for support as the ship landed in a clearing several feet from an abandoned warehouse. Thiago emptied his goblet and rose from his seat, striding out of the cockpit. Eden followed him, her mouth slightly open. She watched as Thiago strapped a thick belt over his shoulder and filled the slots with sharp daggers, glinting restraints, and other weaponry she didn't recognize.
"Are you leaving right now?"
"We're close to Krypt's warehouse. Hercules is coming with me to take down the target. I've programmed the shields to activate as soon as we leave. You should be safe here."
"That doesn't sound reassuring. How long should I wait for you before I start to worry?"
"It depends," said Thiago vaguely, shrugging. "I shouldn't be long. Do you know what to do?"
"I know, I know. Stay right here."
"Good. We'll see you soon."
Thiago gave her a final nod before hopping off the ship with Hercules tailing closely behind him. As soon as the front door sealed shut, Eden heard the metallic cranking of several locking mechanisms turning on. The shielded craft was now impenetrable.
Chapter Nine
Eden chewed on the last of her pulled kobaru meat. It tasted like grilled chicken in a savory sauce. As she dabbed at her lips with a leaf-textured napkin, she touched a screen on the dashboard. It was the only instrument on the ship she felt comfortable using. She wasn't sure when Thiago and Hercules would return. For entertainment, she began reading about Thiago's former and future targets.
There was a profile of a sadistic rapist and murderer with a male call-boy fetish. A Leudanese named Kronka had evaded authorities with a decade-long killing spree before Thiago captured him. She shuddered at the moving mugshot of a two-headed creature with gouged-out eye sockets, clawing menacingly at the camera.
The scorned Dartian princess Briaisha went on a vigilante crusade against unfaithful husbands. She disemboweled her victims and left their entrails packaged in a gift-wrapped basket on their wives' doorsteps. Over 30 wives were graced with Briaisha's gifts before Thiago stopped her.
Galvantor, brother of the Noxx leader, Malatov, was a 'free-spirit' who started a personal doomsday cult. The Paradise Achievers saw twenty thousand misguided families perish in synchronized suicide after consuming drinks laced with lethal doses of poison. Somehow Galvantor did not imbibe his deadly concoction and remained on the run for over twenty-five years before Thiago hauled the emaciated and disgraced leader to the authorities.
She couldn't believe Thiago had singlehandedly taken these horrifying criminals out of space. It was no wonder he was cranky. He must have seen horrors that could not be imagined by the sickest minds.
She found herself filled with a sense of revulsion at the criminals and admiration for Thiago. His bounties weren't petty-thieving, substance-possessing jokes. They were a danger to the universe.
Eden glanced down at her watch. They had been gone for almost an hour now. Could this be normal? Her brows furrowed as she anxiously gnawed on her lip. What if this was the first mission he failed? What if they were hurt? Or worse? A hundred questions raced through her mind, each more erratic than the next.
She jumped up from her seat and ran to the windows, hoping to catch a glimpse of Thiago. She found every opening sealed with the shield's protective, steel-gray shell.
Eden turned back to the cockpit, seating herself on the pilot's seat. She began to play around with the controls, hoping to lower the shield. Every time Eden made a mistake, a noise sounded, signaling an access error and increasing her frustration. With an exasperated sigh, she pounded down her fists, striking the screen and knocking over a striped yellow lever to her right.
There was a sharp sound of alert as all the shields on the craft retracted. Eden bounced off her seat immediately. She gazed out of the windshield, squinting out at her surroundings. Night had fallen, and darkness covered the land. They were in a clearing bordered by stretches of land covered with tall trees. The gnarled branches were abundant with fern-like leaves in earthy, purplish tones. They rustled in the breeze like a puppeteer controlled them.
Wiping away the sweat snaking down her cheeks, she strode out of the cockpit toward the armory. She chose something that looked dangerous – a small, bazooka-shaped weapon that was heavier than it appeared. Grabbing a club for good measure, she moved toward the exit and stepped onto the pedal under the wall, revealing an opening in the spaceship. She moved through the egress before the doors of the craft clamped shut behind her.
Traces of her breath slipped past her lips and left clouds in the cold of the night. Gravel and dried leaves crunched under her boots as she walked along a path in the quiet glade. Eden spied muted light beyond a thicket of lopsided trees. She headed west from the craft toward the only illumination she could see.
Eden hid behind an unusually thick trunk, her hammering heart making it difficult to hear anything. The enormous double-story warehouse was hard to miss sitting in the middle of the woods. She narrowed her eyes to get a better look, counting four immobile figures sprawled out across the entryway. Her legs were the consistency of wobbly gelatin. Eden approached the bodies with the caution of a delinquent teenager sneaking past their snoozing parents in the living room. She lifted her legs cautiously, stepping over the unconscious figures of three Blazian guards and a Noxx official.
The warehouse lights were smashed and dangled from their fixtures. Twinkling pools of Xorxes crystals spilled out from large vats tipped onto their sides. Clouds of creamy smoke sputtered over the tables, emerging from cracks in complicated sets of glass tubes and beakers.
Eden's ears perked up at the sound of Hercules' distinctive distress squeals. They were coming from the second floor. Incapacitated bodies obstructed her path and she leaped over them like an Olympian jumping over hurdles. She clambered up the steps clumsily, clutching her weapons tightly against her chest. She froze when she reached the landing.
Hercules was staving off a horde of five Blazian cronies. He had seized one by the neck with his pincers. The creature swung the flailing Blazian toward his companions, sweeping them off their feet like a row of dominoes.
Krypt paced around the room as if he was hunting for something. He was instantly recognizable. He wore a velvet, maroon suit that made him look superior to his men. Eden spotted Thiago crouched under a table. He kept his head down as he reloa
ded one of his weapons. Her palms became slick with sweat. She watched in terror as Krypt closed in on Thiago. The creature's fingers curled around the edge of Thiago's table. He was about to flip it over.
"Oh no – Thiago!"
Eden shuffled forward, the club dropping onto the ground next to her. She raised her weapon and aimed at Krypt. One trembling hand closed around the grip while her finger curled around the trigger. Her heart fluttered when she fired.
A deafening boom erupted from the mouth of her weapon. A bolt of blue lightning narrowly missed Krypt's ear, striking and utterly shattering all the glass in the windowpanes behind him. The delayed kickback of Eden's weapon sent her hurtling backward and crashing onto the pillars behind her.
Her body was flat against the ground. Eden lifted her head sluggishly. She saw two copies of Krypt's blurry silhouette weave toward the stairs and exit the room.
"Thiago," she croaked, attempting to signal him with a limp wrist. "He's getting away."
A cloud of red filled Eden's vision. A warm trickle of blood started to flow out her ears, and she fell back to the ground.
Chapter Ten
"My head hurts."
Eden peeled back her eyelids slowly. Her head throbbed like angry woodpeckers were drilling at her temples. Rubbing her face above the nose, she hefted herself off the ground. She had been lying on a mattress on the cold cockpit floor of Thiago's ship. She looked down at herself and gasped at a sharp jab that shot through her ribs.
She wore a black robe with a warm, woolen lining. Someone had bandaged her waist and left arm with a breathable brown cloth. The bandages didn't cover all her wounds. She had other scratches around her body. A bright pink salve coated her scratches; it felt cool when she touched it.
Most of the scratches looked superficial. Even the deepest wound running across her stomach was nearly healed already.
She glanced over to her right at the cockpit. The spaceship was on auto-pilot, steering itself through the surreal imagery of rolling clouds tinted with the rising sun's rusty amber hues. Thiago sat in the driver's seat, hunched over the screen and looking at his dashboard.
