Cosmic Cabaret

by SFR Shooting Stars

  She danced across the stage, elongating her form as she moved, conscious that every man and woman in the bar was watching her. It was a heady feeling. Rarely did she feel in control unless she was on stage. She let the flames slip up her arms to her elbows, the fiery fingertips flickering on the dimmed stage as the spotlights went out for effect. Twirling and tossing the fire, the ooohs and aaahs from the audience pushed her to outdo her previous performances.

  She flipped the flame through the colors of the rainbow and, careful not to singe her clothing, she spun, the heat forming a ring around her as the music accelerated and grew louder.

  A fine mist sprayed the stage, the water droplets forming long strands that slowed as they fell like strings of golden liquid. Lights of every color beamed through the water, casting rainbows across the stage as Stella shifted the fire into deep blues, then purples, then reds with smacks of glittery silver.

  As the music slowed more, she stopped spinning, her hair settling around her shoulders, and focused on changing the fire back to her arms and hands.

  The music stopped abruptly as she formed the final pose and closed her eyes. The crowd in the bar paused in the silence for a moment, then burst into applause. Chairs scratched across the floor as people gave her a standing ovation.

  She bowed deeply, sneaking a glance at the lonely man in the front row. He wasn’t standing like those around him, but he clapped. Then she noticed who sat beside him.

  Eric, the bar creep that had ordered the Wharton’s. His posture showed he’d continued to drink. Maybe she’d bilk some money out of him after all, though she was drawn to the other man.

  New music started, a lighter piece performed by real string instruments. A recording, of course, but still, the music had cost a tremendous amount of credits.

  She moved to center stage as a tall, mirrored pole rose from the floor, spinning and casting flashes of light across the entire bar. She’d chosen to include traditional Earth dancing in her performance to hopefully entice the scientists into tipping.

  Bending at the waist, she flattened her hands on the floor and did a slow walkover, giving the patrons a view of her lengthy, toned legs. Her dress settled around her, and she held her leg high in a kick that few could perform gracefully.

  The pole clicked into place above and the music grew louder. She started her routine with traditional pole-dancing moves, spinning around with one arm out and her head thrown back to show the length of her graceful neck, her short skirt fluttering behind her.

  She closed her eyes to let the music seep into her mind as it changed from strings to metal instruments. Jhodalann said it was an old Earth saxophone, and it sounded like it spoke words instead of notes. The style was called blues, and other horns and woodwinds joined the saxophone and then the stringed instruments rejoined as she spun on the pole.

  The saxophone reached its solo, and Stella placed one leg on the pole in a split, her hair brushing against the stage floor as she leaned backward. Her body buzzed and she let go, knowing she’d wow the crowd with her ability. She did a back walkover and stood, arms raised.

  She was one, and then she was many. A Gainorian. Shifter of matter and energy. Shards of black iridescence formed a tornado of spinning reflections, and she circled the pole from the floor to its terminus. The music, sad yet alive, led her to fall like rain across the stage floor, clattering and shattering into a million pieces, the dress falling in a heap.

  The audience stood, trying to glimpse what had happened, and the music picked up again. Stella pulled herself together in a tangled mass of crystals and focused on her humanoid form. Filling the dress and underwear was easy. She could exist in the other forms of matter for longer and longer as she neared a star, but with the job at the Antimatter Bar, there was no need.

  She spun, her dress sailing around her on pockets of air. A loud whistle from one of the electronic woodwinds and a new burst of scented fog filled the room. The subaural track thumped with suggestion and seduction, and the audience leaned forward in their seats. A collective sigh emanated from the room as the music wound toward the final crescendo. She shifted into a silvery Yando with a long mane of pure white and hooves of dazzling sparkles that floated like specks of dust in the air. Levitating.

  Finally, she shifted to her natural form and danced across the stage and down the side-stage stairs. She moved with the music, seductive and slowly, as she made her way to the front row. Every eye in the bar was on her. Even the three-eyed Rayorns watched her with everything they had.

  Between her own charms, Comfort 47, and alcohol, no one stood a chance.

  She gave Eric a sizzling smile and wrapped her arms around the man’s neck beside him. The man that had looked into her. He didn’t move, but everyone watched and waited to see what would happen. Performers didn’t often come out into the audience. Stella leaned close enough to catch a whiff of his cologne and then nuzzled his cheek, pressing her breasts against him as she sat in his lap.

  He flushed. Not the simple flush of embarrassment, but a deep awkwardness that almost made Stella want to hold him.

  Almost.

  She pushed closer to him, kissing his cheek and taking the moment of distraction to undo his bracelet and close it in her hand. If he noticed, he didn’t move to call her out. She palmed the bracelet and stood, swaying her hips to the music, then disappeared into the crowd, whistles and applause filling the room and the thrum of blood pounding in her ears.

  She’d become a thief.

  Four

  “She took it!” Andrew shook. His glasses slid down his nose and he shoved them back up. The dancer had made off with his wristband that held all his personal information, his credits, his room entry codes, and his itinerary. How dare she?

  He should have realized she was up to something when she sat on his lap.

  “Are you sure, sir?” the bar owner scowled. “Stella has been with me a long time, and I only hire professionals.”

  “Professional thieves?” Eric leaned on the bar. “If I’d known we were going to be pickpocketed, I’d never have scheduled the event at the Antimatter Bar.”

  “I’ll fix it.” The owner made his way behind the bar to the computer. “Give me a little time.”

  “You better.” Eric grabbed a toothpick and began picking at his teeth.

  Andrew winced. He could’ve handled this without Eric’s help. So her name was Stella. Star. Must be a stage name.

  “I can track her through her own band. I’ll send my men to retrieve yours. She hasn’t had time to do anything with it.” He pulled a folding screen down from the bar and turned it on. “After we get your band back, I’ll take care of her.”

  “I want this reported.” Andrew lowered his voice so he wouldn’t irritate the bar owner any more than he already was. Something about the guy felt…angry. Perhaps he should’ve chosen the chip over the band. At least it couldn’t be easily stolen. “What’s your name?”

  “Jhodalann.” The man typed on his virtual keyboard. “Give me a second to find her. No need to report this to security. I’ll handle it.”

  Andrew put his hands on his hips. He’d known coming to the bar would turn out to be a bad idea. Still, Eric had insisted, and now look at the predicament he was in. No way to get into his room or access his credits or even his research paper, though he had a copy of that on his personal device. He’d linked everything he needed on the trip to the bracelet.

  He watched the male dancers writhe, their toned bodies glowing with body paint and a light sheen of sweat. The stage floor changed to a watery blue and purple background as projectors overlaid lights and scenes for the men. No, this was not the type of establishment he wanted to be in.

  Though the shifting dancer was intriguing if only because of how she appeared to manipulate physics.

  Jhodalann looked up. “Found her. Already sent men to get the bracelet. You’ll have it back in less than a cycle.”

  “Where is she?” Andrew tried to see the map on the screen, but
the ship’s corridors were so complex he couldn’t read it.

  “Deck Seascape, near the crew quarters. Probably headed back to her room to see what she can steal from your band. She’ll pay for this, I promise you.”

  “I’m going to go find her. I want to know why she took my band.”

  “That’s obvious. She wants your money. I’ll wait here.” Eric eyed the men on stage. “In case they get back with your band while you’re gone.”

  Andrew nodded. Thank goodness Eric didn’t want to come along. He headed out of the bar and into the nearly empty corridor, hopping on a vacant lift and speaking directions.

  The lift lurched forward, and he grabbed the handles, biting his lower lip. He might get used to the frantic ride by the time he finished the conference.

  Before Stella had taken his band, he’d really been enthralled with her. She seemed so different than everyone else. Stella. Not only was she beautiful—something he rarely noticed—but she had an air about her that was…compelling. She was obviously not from Earth. Not with those talents. No one he knew could manipulate matter and energy like she did. He’d heard of an extinct race that could change matter into energy and back, but he’d always assumed it was a fairy tale. How could it even be possible?

  Or was it all fake? He couldn’t shake the feeling that it had to be a trick. Right? No one could change like that for real. Science simply didn’t allow it.

  The lift whisked him around the corner and then down a few decks. He held on, his palms sweating and slipping. Handy, but a little dangerous. He could’ve asked for slow and safe, but he wanted to get to Stella while she was red-handed. And not with fire.

  The lift bounced to a stop then zipped horizontally down a smaller corridor not as glitzy and shiny as where the Antimatter Bar was. Door after door went by in a flash, the rooms inside must have been tiny—they were so close together. The lighting was dingy, possibly half of the circuits out, and the tang of rust filled the air.

  He was about to worry the lift had taken him to the wrong place when he saw her up ahead, two men holding her arms.

  “Stop.” The lift stopped so fast he almost pitched over the handles. Trying to regain a bit of his dignity, he stepped off as quickly as he could and the lift zoomed back the way it had come.

  He approached Stella and the two men who held her, and as he neared, he realized they weren’t merely holding her. They were hurting her. She was doubled over.

  “Hey, what are you doing?” he ran the last few steps.

  “Go away, Dr. Nerd,” Stella twisted in the men’s grip. “You don’t need to be here.”

  “My name’s Andrew.”

  The larger of the two men bristled at his approach. He tugged Stella’s arm and held it behind her back. “We got this under control. She had your band, and we’ve got it now.”

  “Give it to me.” Andrew hoped his voice came out as strong as it sounded in his head. “And let her go.”

  The smaller man wasn’t actually human, but some cross of reptilian creature, complete with scaly skin. He sneered. “We’re taking her to Jhodalann. He’ll handle her.”

  The larger man laughed and shoved Stella forward.

  A fury unlike anything Andrew had felt before welled up inside him and he felt ten feet tall. “I said, LET HER GO.” He fisted his hands. “And give me my band. Now!”

  The reptilian creature looked to the larger man and shrugged. “Jhodalann wouldn’t want us to argue with a customer.”

  Andrew stepped closer, prepared to punch at least one of the men before he got punched himself. What the hell had gotten into him?

  Stella squirmed, trying to get loose. The men held her more tightly.

  “She’ll shift if you don’t hold that scrambler to her. Jhodalann knows. He’ll find her, but he’ll be pissed if we let her go.”

  The reptilian grinned, showing rows of pointy teeth. “Jhodalann won’t be mad at us if we turn her over to him.” He nodded Andrew’s way.

  “Let her go. I will talk to Jhodalann.” Andrew surprised himself with how unafraid he was. The men could easily beat him to a pulp. Hell, Stella probably could if she really tried. Physicality wasn’t his strength. Now, if they wanted to play a game of Mizorian Brenall, that was another thing entirely. No one had beaten him in many Earth years.

  “Are you serious?” Stella shouted. “Who do you think you are? Some kind of hero?” She tugged, trying to escape.

  “N-no.” Damn the stutter was back. “I-I’m trying to help.” He swallowed hard. “And get my band back.”

  “Let’s go,” urged the reptilian man, the skin-toned scales on his face changing to iridescent red. “Jhodalann will be fine as long as the customer is happy.” He let go of her but kept the metal implement in his hand trained on her.

  Andrew glanced at the device. Must be the scrambler, whatever that was. He didn’t want to find out.

  The larger guy shoved Stella away, and she fell into the wall. He turned to Andrew. “Here.” He tossed the band to Andrew. “Don’t say we didn’t warn you about her. Won’t matter, she’ll be gone as soon as the scrambler’s out of range anyway.”

  “Won’t matter.” The reptilian snickered. “Great pun.”

  The bigger guy laughed, and they pushed by Andrew and headed down the corridor. Andrew ignored them, slipped his band on, and stared at Stella.

  “Why did you do it?” He took a step toward her. “I didn’t do anything to you, and yet, you stole from me.”

  She rubbed her wrists where Jhodalann’s guys had held her, her eyes wide and her pale hair a long and curling nest of tangles. She’d been crying.

  What a jerk I am. I didn’t even notice. “I’m not mad.” He held his arms out.

  She wiped her eyes. “I don’t know. I’ve never stolen anything from a customer before.” She took a step backward.

  “I won’t hurt you. I promise.” He didn’t move closer. “I couldn’t understand why you would steal from me. This band has everything I need on it. And you seemed to l-like me.”

  She looked up at him, and for a split second, he thought her eyes glowed blue. Then the spark was gone.

  “I don’t like anyone.” She crossed her arms. “But I am sorry I stole from you. It was wrong.”

  He looked at his hands. “You must need money. Let me transfer some to you.”

  “Why would you do that after I stole from you?” Her voice defiant, her chin jutted out. “I don’t want your pity. And I’m not for sale.”

  Her beauty seemed to reach from inside and coil around him like a deadly fog. His mind screamed at him to be careful. But something about her lured him closer. He had to find out more.

  “I know you aren’t for sale. Don’t be ridiculous. Let me at least tip you for the dance. That would be okay, wouldn’t it?”

  She nodded but stood with arms crossed. “You can send money directly to me at J43t-L. No spaces.”

  The lights in the corridor flickered.

  “That happen often?” He typed the numbers in, tapping on the band and sending her a large tip—bigger than any tip he’d ever given.

  “Yes. Crew quarters get the residual power. If the passengers and clubs are all lit up, we might not have coolant or lights. They do keep our oxygen running, at least.” Her shoulder relaxed a little.

  “That doesn’t sound so great.” He hit SEND and immediately, her band dinged.

  “Thank you.” She looked at the screen on her band then back to him. “What? Thank you! That’s very generous.” Her eyes shrank to slits. “If you think this means I’m yours for the night…”

  “N-no, no!” The blush raced up Andrew’s neck to his cheeks. “Not at all. I’d never!”

  She sighed. “No, you probably wouldn’t.”

  “May I at least walk you to your cabin? To make sure Jhodalann’s men don’t catch you in the corridor?”

  “Ah,” she shuddered. “Jhodalann. I almost forgot I’d have to deal with him.”

  Five

  Stella st
ripped out of her performance dress and let it drop to the floor. She kicked the blue and purple gown to the wall under her small bed.

  She sighed and pulled on her sleeping gown, too tired to shower. “Tomorrow morning, if I’m up early enough.”

  It was unlikely there was any warm water left for the crew anyway. Not with the amount of partying that had been going on upstairs all evening. She grabbed the brush from her dresser and began detangling the mess of her hair.

  Andrew. Sure, he was cute in his scientific way, his shock of dark hair falling over his glasses occasionally. She smiled, remembering his reaction. He hadn’t been angry that she’d taken his band, well, maybe a little. But not once he realized she wasn’t a common thief. How many men would react like he had?

  Certainly not Jhodalann. She’d have to come up with quite the story to keep him from hurting her for stealing the band. Her stomach clenched. He was going to be so angry. He was probably cursing her at that moment if he wasn’t still checking his balance from the night.

  Her door beeped and she jumped.

  Jhodalann.

  There was no escaping, and he probably had a scrambler with him. She wouldn’t be able to shift.

  Shit.

  The chime beeped again. She took a deep breath and opened the door, expecting to be met with a slap.

  “Oh, Stella, I’m so glad you’re here.” Effie stumbled into her quarters.

  “What the hell, Effie?” Stella pushed the button to close and lock the door then stared at her friend.

  Clothes torn, bruises already appearing, and blood dripping from a cut on her face, Effie was shaking like a frozen scart fly at the pole.

  “He hurt me.” Effie wiped at her face, her hands now bloody.

  “Who hurt you? Sit down. Let me take a look at that cut.” She backed Effie onto the bed and rushed to the sink to get some water. As she suspected, the warm water was out, but she doused it in cold and brought it back to Effie.