Needles were not his friend.
He swung his suitcase, giving it a bit of momentum as it hovered, and it slid over to float by the wall after a soft bump against the built-in desk. The room wasn’t small, but the sparse furniture almost reminded him of a dorm room. Bed, dresser, desk, small couch, and table.
The entire wall near the couch was a screen, and a list of ship activities scrolled by on a purple background, accompanied by soft, toneless music. He grabbed the remote from the table and hit the off button.
The screen cleared and a vast star field appeared in its place. Andrew moved closer. His breath caught at the realization of what he was looking at on the screen.
The stars weren’t video or VR—they were what was outside the ship.
The screen concealed a window to the Universe.
Andrew had a room with a view.
He breathed out, his heart thrumming. The night sky always gave him chills, and the sight from a vessel in space with no light pollution was spectacular. The wonder and beauty that surrounded everything and cradled all the galaxies in a dark, soft blanket gave him a sense of belonging. He felt at one with everything in a moment like this—and a childhood filled with those types of moments had led him to study stars and space.
Stars were his destiny.
Who would cover this view with a vidscreen? He climbed onto the bed and lay back on his side to watch the sky out the screen on his wall. LS Quantum had picked up everyone from the shuttles and now traveled at a high rate of speed. The stars sat motionless, suspended in stillness and quiet.
“Lower lights.” The room dimmed.
The next week might not be so bad after all if he could avoid the social aspects of the conference and hang out in his room or the observation lounge. Seeing the red giant would be the highlight. Everything else, he dreaded. He loosened his bow tie and kicked off his shoes.
His wrist tingled. A message from Dr. Allen.
Meet in The Antimatter bar in one-half cycle for the welcome event.
“Shit.” He’d rather stay in his room, alone. But when Dr. Allen said jump, he had no choice but to ask how high. At least until he made a name for himself as a top astrophysicist.
Andrew had no trouble finding the bar, even though it was quite a distance from his cabin. The self-driven moveable lifts got him to the bar in no time. Call for one on the wristband, enter a destination, then the lift took care of the rest.
Like a taxi without a driver. No human interaction at all.
Perfect.
The bar had looked like any other bar from the outside. Shiny, loud, and undeniably seedy, but expensive. A digital sign flashed a welcome to his group, and fancy holograms of dancers flickered and moved above the door.
Two of his colleagues nodded as they headed into the bar ahead of him. He didn’t really know them by sight, but they had to be part of the conference since they were going into the private event. Chances were, they’d shared data at some point.
Not in person. He’d known that meeting colleagues would be awkward, but he hadn’t calculated exactly how bad it would be. Nervousness burned in his core.
He walked into the dimly lit bar, his palms sweaty with unease. Glasses clinked, voices rose and fell, and the strong scent of alcohol permeated the room. A low beat thumped out something akin to music, and laughter echoed off the walls. A room filled with people and tables, the establishment was larger than what he’d been used to on Earth. He didn’t recognize anyone he knew.
A stage lined the long side, and the actual bar curved down one long wall. The barstools were full, which was fine, as he planned to make sure Dr. Allen saw him and then head back to his room. Exotic dancing wasn’t something he’d ever been interested in watching. Seeing people writhe and move sensually coated him in guilt. Why would anyone show themselves off to the public like that?
The only voyeurism he wanted to be known for was for staring at a star through a telescope.
He scanned for an empty table and spotted one toward the back of the room. Most people had gathered near the stage—exactly where he didn’t want to be.
A hand clasped his shoulder and he recoiled.
“Dr. All-len.” Andrew hated the stutter that came out at the most inopportune times. “Good to see you.” Only because I can leave now.
“Andrew, I’ve told you a million times to call me Eric. Just because I’m head of the department, and the Universe Society, and the journal, Starred…” he laughed.
“Yes, sir.” Andrew took a shuffle back. “E-eric.” Anxiety flared and his palms dampened again. He hated politics, bullshit, and men like Eric—especially men like Eric. Thankfully, he didn’t have to actually see the man that often back at the university.
“Cut the ‘sir’. We don’t live in the Middle Ages.” Eric flashed a literal million-credit smile and pulled his hand away. “Why so stiff? This is supposed to be relaxing. Rewarding.”
“Travel is stressful.” Andrew scanned for an escape route. Even more people had packed into the bar since he’d come in, and the music beat thumped in his gut.
Eric could go brag to someone else now. It wasn’t like the man had any research of his own. Sure, he was an author on a lot of papers, but those were all written by underpaid grad students.
“Well, I have the antidote to all your stress.” Eric took him by the arm. “I’ve heard the performers at this cabaret really rock hard, if you know what I mean.”
Ugh. Andrew tried to come up with an excuse—one that Eric would accept. He could think of a million better ways to spend his time than watching performers try to get a rise out of the audience. “Okay.”
He didn’t know who he hated more—Eric for bring such an asshole, or himself for not standing up to the asshole.
For whatever reason, Eric wanted him there. No escape. The music seemed to penetrate his skull, the beat slightly above heartrate and the volume escalating slightly. Everything about performance was contrived. Couldn’t everyone see they were being manipulated?
Eric led him to seats stage-side. A row of men and women turned as he and Eric approached. None looked particularly friendly, though they lit up with fake smiles as Eric caught their gazes. Andrew swallowed down the shaky feeling in his stomach. He’d have to meet every single one of these colleagues.
In person.
Eric motioned to an empty chair, and Andrew sat and straightened his bow tie. Eric was about to introduce him to the other scientists when the piercing stage lights danced across the room in frantic bursts and a new, low music began, ramping up in volume and tempo.
Andrew had never been so happy to see a show start. Death by political and ass-kissing conversation or a flashy, tacky half-baked show meant to titillate the senses on some superficial level? He’d settle for the show.
It won by a hair.
He scanned the bar. His counterparts from other universities across the galaxy gathered in the bar, rapt with anticipation of seeing a bit of skin and provocative motions. Not exactly astrophysics’ finest moment.
He squirmed in his seat, fighting the urge to sprint for the door. Never comfortable with racy things, the show would certainly add to the misery he was already experiencing. Everyone knew the conference was a thin disguise for partying. Could he ditch the show and still present his paper?
No, he had to put in his time and pretend to enjoy hanging out with his boss. Plenty of the people in attendance would do about anything to work under Eric. He was the darling of the astrophysics’ world. Somehow. The lights began flashing.
I shouldn’t be so judgmental. People want to waste their time on brainless shit, that’s their business. I can tolerate most anything for a cycle.
The music crescendoed, a mix of techno sound bites and sampled instruments. Grating and not real, same as everything else at the bar.
“Want a drink?” Eric’s voice rose above the beat.
Andrew shook his head, then adjusted his glasses. He should have brought a cleaning cloth with him. A
drink or two would be okay, but he might tell Eric what he really thought.
Probably not one of his best ideas.
Regardless, he’d beg off later, maybe claiming space lag, as his trip to the departure shuttle had really messed up his sleep schedule.
The excuse wouldn’t be far from the truth.
A large man in a sparkly fiber-optic suit that glowed and winked sauntered onto the stage with a flourish, and the music went quiet. The large man paused, gazing around the room and giving everyone the chance to see his expensive attire.
“Welcome to the Antimatter Bar. I’m Jhodalann, and I’m here to see to it that your fantasies become reality. Whatever you need, whatever you want, we’ve got it or can get it.” He paused for applause. “Discounts for the duration. Show your conference badge. We’re here to tease and here to please.”
Another round of polite applause rumbled through the room, a few catcalls echoing in the air. Andrew gripped the sides of his seat. Was this bar some kind of brothel? His heart stuttered and he scooted to the edge of his chair.
“Everything on the menu is legal. You won’t be bound to any constraints like you might find on some of the more conservative planets.” He chuckled. “Unless you want to be bound. We can cover that, too.”
Laughter echoed and Andrew looked to Eric, who guffawed. Clearly, he was already well on his way past shit-faced. The music changed and the spotlight circled.
“First up tonight, help me welcome the fabulous Trixie Triplets. Three’s never a crowd at the Antimatter.” Jhodalann bowed and waved himself off. The lights went red with spinning spots of color swirling on every surface, and a low fog crept across the stage.
Andrew slouched into his chair, calculating the amount of time till he could escape.
The triplets, who didn’t appear to be identical at all, bounced onto the stage with hoops they twirled and danced with, lights chasing around the rings, creating a dizzying display of flamboyance and dexterity. One by one, the triplets tossed the rings into the air, letting them fall over their bodies as they came down.
A brief flash of light caught his eye as the heavy side-stage curtain slipped open. Andrew turned to the movement.
A woman peered out from the crack in the drapes, her pale hair seemingly glowing from within, and her heart-shaped face set off by large eyes and full lips. She didn’t appear real, but something about her compelled him to stare.
She resembled the fairies from his favorite childhood book. Dainty yet strong. Beautiful and smart.
Not real.
Must be the lighting.
She met his stare, her eyes widening. A cold rush flashed through him, and his mouth went dry. She smiled and he glanced at his hands, uncertain what to do.
He looked up to meet her gaze again, but she was gone.
Three
The last strains of the triplet’s music filtered backstage, and Stella adjusted her dress straps. Short and flowy, the costume was one of her favorites. With a royal blue fabric that faded to purple, it complemented her light skin tone and hair well. After deciding to leave her hair loose for the performance, she hadn’t had much to do to prepare. Simple was best, as her abilities were what kept the clientele coming back. With a touch of lipstick for color, she was ready to go.
She danced barefoot, so a dress and underwear were all she needed unless she really went all-out for a special occasion. Sometimes she wore jewelry, but somehow, she didn’t think the man in the front row would like it if she was draped in chains and baubles. He seemed to look right into her.
She tugged the dress hem down.
What do I care what he thinks? She scowled and made her way to side-stage to prepare for her entrance, careful to avoid the squeaky boards that could call attention away from the current act. Applause sounded for the triplets. They started their encore immediately.
Almost time. Her heartbeat sped with the excitement that accompanied performing. Though she hated dealing with Jhodalann, she really did enjoy dancing.
Her friend, Effie, was getting dressed in the corner, by the light of a small lamp, and Stella gave her a wave and a smile.
The night should be good for everyone. General tips were split between all the performers, and with a private party, there was usually a big bonus from the organizer, too. Effie could use the money as bad as she could. Stella wiggled her fingers, and Effie waved as she pulled on her tights.
Having a good friend work with her made the Antimatter bar tolerable—barely. At least dancing gave her a thrill. She made her way into the wings.
Even though it was almost dark, she slipped around the corner and the gear with little effort. Most performers needed a dim light to find their way around, but her extensive senses lit the way as if it were daylight. One of the positives of not being human.
She pulled the curtain back, its shiny, slick surface cool against her cheek. Exactly where she’d been able to see him earlier. Careful not to draw attention to the movement of the curtain, she peeked out. He was still sitting in the same spot, and his posture hadn’t changed. From the look on his face, he hadn’t been impressed by the triplets.
Why was he even in the bar if he didn’t want to be there? She assumed he wasn’t indentured. He was free. Part of the science conference that would be on LS Quantum all week. She let the curtain drop at the moment the triplets finished their encore, the last note accompanied by an electronic cymbal crash. Applause and whistles echoed in the bar, loud and appreciative of the triplet’s performance.
Her stomach clenched. She hadn’t had stage fright in years. And she didn’t care about the man sitting near the stage. Another customer, that’s all. The look in his eyes had been merely a reflection of what she wanted to see. There was no connection—she’d imagined it because she was tired and lonely. He was a patron, she was the entertainment, and he wouldn’t care if she was the dancer or someone else. In fact, he looked like he really didn’t want to see anyone dance.
She was being ridiculous to think he even noticed her or remembered their brief exchange of glances. The applause stopped, and the curtain parted long enough for the triplets to scoot backstage, throwing kisses and waving to the audience.
“Break a leg,” one of the girls said in passing.
The old Earth saying was still bantered around like hellos.
“Thank you.”
Stella stretched her arms above her head and breathed in enough air to fill her lungs and more, then let it out slowly. She bent to touch the ground and paused a moment as her muscles stretched. Getting her focus intact was critical. She wouldn’t be able to shift if she was worried about the nerd in the front row and what he was thinking about her.
The clomping that signaled Jhodalann’s clamber onto stage stopped. She waited for her cue, ready. His introductions were short, and she had to be on her mark.
“Next up is a dancer whose ability to stir the senses with her exotic moves will leave you breathless. You won’t believe the tricks she can perform…and you’ll never forget her.”
Clapping overtook his voice, and he paused to wait on it to slow. He’d be pumping an odor-free, tasteless gas into the bar now. Called Comfort 47, it was assured to keep all eyes on Stella. She didn’t think the extra boost was necessary, but since tips were what she needed, she didn’t complain when Jhodalann used it. The gas affected most humanoid life forms, but Stella never felt anything except a tad of euphoria when she breathed it.
The applause subsided and Jhodalann continued. “Our very own star, brighter than any you’ll see on LS Quantum or out the window. Please welcome the beautiful and multitalented performer, Stella, to the stage.”
The clapping burst into her ears like a throng of starving people vying for the last piece of bread—needy, desperate, and yet, foreign. She stepped through the break in the curtain and swept onto stage, fully into character, as the blue spotlight followed her to center.
Jhodalann hurried off the other side, and Stella dipped her head and got into posit
ion as she prepared for the music to start. The bar, quiet for the first time that night, waited for her to begin. Unable to help herself, she peeked at the man in the front row as the spot moved. She caught his gaze and her heartbeat quickened.
In a brief moment, she felt she knew him. That was crazy. Even though her species mated for life with a fated mated, this man was human. Not her species. And yet, she felt drawn to him like she’d known him across the universe and a day.
She sensed his soul and it fit with hers.
Loneliness emanated from him in waves that crested and fell around her, pinging her like a flashing beacon. The urge to hug him and comfort him filled her senses and she reached for him. His glasses, thick rimmed and dark, matched his hair, and his bow tie was a bit askew. Something drew her to him and she couldn’t let it. Regardless of what it was, she had a job to do and a larger task to achieve to get out of space altogether.
The music started and her body went into autopilot. No time to think about the man, money, or Jhodalann. Time to dance and shift. Give it everything she had.
She jumped with a grace most would never know, her dress fluttering about her hips like flower petals. She pirouetted and made her body show long lines and graceful form, her fingers just so, together, curved, exact.
The music built with trill upon trill, and she raised her arms and held her hands out for the first shift, drawing from a deep well of energy inside and willing her hands to change. Heat traveled from her chest to her fingertips, and suddenly, blue flames flashed and sparked from where her hands once were. Gasps sounded from around the room, fueling her need to show them what she could do.
Almost like magic.
She tossed the flames into the air as she split-kicked and landed without a sound, her head to the side and her arms twirling the flames like ribbons of light. The music slowed, changing to a darker sound, and she moved with the beat.
Cosmic Cabaret Page 3
