by Tracy Lauren
“Is it safe for me there, Dax?” I ask finally.
“You are always safe with me,” he replies so earnestly that it feels like a promise.
“Fine. How long until we get there?”
“Depends on how fast you can go.” He fires that smart grin of his at me.
“I’m driving? Of course, I should have figured,” I say, finally stealing the bowl from his grip and digging in. “You know, sometimes I wonder if you make me drive because you’re really just lazy,” I say through a mouthful of food. Dax just looks amused.
“I will neither confirm nor deny that,” he says, giving me a whip of his tail to my thigh.
Chapter 23
V
Quar is a bustling hub. Dax didn’t tell me there were going to be so many aliens here. I shift nervously on the bridge. This isn’t like the primitive planet he took me to, nor it is like Lock VI, granted I primarily only saw the inside of my cloak when we were on Lock.
I sure do miss that cloak right about now, but Dax won’t let me wear it. He says it’ll be too hot on Quar for it. But he knows I like to hide, so instead he lets me borrow a hooded vest. It’s Dax’s, so it fits me like a tunic. I tug the hood down tight around my face, feeling exposed and vulnerable. This place he’s brought me to, it’s everything I’ve been fearing since my abduction. It’s alien, it’s foreign, it’s crowded, and dangerous and it will only get worse once we disembark from the ship.
Dax ushers me out into the hot Quar sun. Dust blows up into my nostrils as a small ship speeds by, too close for comfort. I cough and try to survey the area as the dust settles, but my view is partially obstructed by my hood. The airfield appears haphazard, with vessels landing so close to me that the force of their exhaust nearly knocks me to the ground.
Dax plows ahead, and I hurry to stay next to him. Aliens move around me with direction and purpose, bumping into me as they pass. Someone bumps me hard and I spin, losing my bearings and I lose sight of Dax in the crowd. The crowd. Frightening, dangerous aliens all around me, closing in. I can feel myself beginning to hyperventilate. Dax grabs me and sets me right. I cling to his arm.
My trepidation only grows once beyond the gates to the airfield. Spanning the length of a city street is a shanty town built up on both sides of the dusty road. When a group of small children rush past us, Dax ruffles the hair of a few that get close. I pull my hood back to get a better look. The children are a variety of different species, each of them dirty and dressed in rags.
“Where are their parents?” I demand.
“Hmm?” Dax stops and looks back at the kids. “Working I suppose, either in the trading post or in their homes.”
“No one is watching them and they’re playing right next to the airfield! There’s traffic here, what if a ship doesn’t land properly?”
“There is nothing to worry over, V. These are all seasoned pilots,” Dax says in a soothing voice, pulling me along again.
“A responsible adult should be watching over them,” I press.
“They are only playing, V! What could possibly happen?” he chides.
“They could get kidnapped.”
“Kidnapped? Impossib—” Dax cuts his declaration of safety short.
“Anyone can get kidnapped if they aren’t being protected, Dax. I’m living proof of that.”
“Sweet V, I did not mean to offend you. Look,” he says, pointing at a few of the makeshift homes. I see open curtains and the keen eyes of mothers and grandmothers, ever watchful of the children while they do their household chores. “And look there.” Dax shifts my attention toward two watchtowers flanking the airfield.
“Okay,” I say reluctantly. I guess I’m not the best judge of appropriate play for children. When my mom had me I was out on the street until all hours of the night, usually forgotten. Then when my grandma had me I was practically tethered to the woman at all times because I was so fearful.
“It is a wild settlement, but it is not complete chaos here, V,” Dax assures me. I nod my acceptance, but look back over my shoulder as Dax pulls me onward. I watch a few of the children dart between houses and run out onto the road. Suddenly, a little scaled and feathered scrap of a kid falls in the dirt. The older children he was running with don’t seem to notice and I hear him start to cry. Without thinking, I pull myself out of Dax’s grip and go running for the child.
“Hey, are you okay, sweetie?” I ask, pulling him into a sitting position so I can take a look at his knees. I pull my hood back entirely now and the little guy gives a squawk of terror. We lock eyes and I see his are wide and his subtle beak of a mouth is open in shock.
“It looks like your leg is fine, baby. Do you need help getting up?” I ask, trying to use a soothing tone with the little guy so I don’t scare him any more than I already am.
Suddenly, another kid comes rushing up, an older version of the little one. It seems to be his older sister and she scoops up her little brother and pulls him away. They wear similar expressions of shock. I stay kneeling where I’m at and watch the kids run off, looking back at me the whole time. Dax raps me on the top of the head softly.
“I scared them, didn’t I?”
“It isn’t every day they see a real-life goddess around here,” he answers, putting his hand out to help me up. I let him haul me to my feet and I pull my hood back down.
“Let’s get our room before we get started.”
“Get started on what?” I ask.
“Our adventure, of course.”
I roll my eyes, but this time follow without hesitation as we make our way toward the market district of the planet. It isn’t long before we reach a place where carts line the streets and metal awnings are propped up over storefronts where goods literally spill from the windows.
It’s obvious the buildings making up the town are military in their design, retrofitted with scrap metal to create separation to the various shops and stalls. The place is teeming with aliens, all braving the heat. And while the merchants appear to be locals, most of the shoppers seem to be coming from the airfield.
Shop owners try to get my attention as we pass. They hold up their wares and pluck at my arm, trying to make a sale. It only makes me more anxious. Dax pulls me in closer to him and wraps his arm around my shoulder. I instantly feel safer. A hot wind blows sand around and it bustles to and fro like a busy shopper, making this planet feel as dry and barren as it looks.
“Where is the hotel?” I ask, warily eyeing the buildings covered in scrap metal. “Can’t we just stay on the ship?”
“Believe me, you will much prefer the hotel,” Dax assures me, gesturing ahead of us.
At the far end of the road there is a row of tall buildings, more modern than the rest. They are clearly not a remnant of Quar’s military days. As we get closer I see the one that Dax is leading me to. It is made from stone, with massive decorative archways leading into an open reception area.
Once inside I feel like I’m walking into the alien version of Casablanca. The people here are all clean, untouched by the orangey sand that blankets everything outside. Music plays and everyone seems to be holding a drink. I also notice guards stationed all around. There are more here than there are at the airfield, I notice, though I can’t tell if that makes me feel secure or angry. Why aren’t there more guards out by the families? Where random aliens come and go freely, right past their homes, just to board ships and disappear out into space again. It seems like they are vulnerable, no matter how much Dax assures me that this is the norm.
I follow Dax to the counter, taking in as much as my hood will allow while still protecting me from feeling exposed.
“Greetings,” comes a warm welcome from a female voice. I incline my head upward to get a better look.
“Good afternoon,” Dax says, and it might be my imagination, but it sounds like he matches the warmth of her tone. “My traveling companion and I would like to book the top floor suite, if it is available.”
“It is a very expensive room,
perhaps you might be just as pleased with one of our balcony rooms that face the canyons?”
“I do not think so, Cleese… It is Cleese, right?”
“It is,” she replies, and I can hear the smile on her lips.
“Cleese, you see, I have this problem…”
“Do you?” she says, leaning forward across the counter and drawing out their conversation unnecessarily.
“I do,” he assures her. “My problem is that I like very expensive things. I do not think I could be satisfied with anything besides the top floor suite.”
“You are in luck, traveler. Satisfaction happens to be my job,” she tells him, and at that I pull my hood back, incredulous. Are they flirting? Right here in front of me? Not that I have any claim on Dax, but she doesn’t know that.
When she looks up and sees me her eyes go wide and her mouth clamps shut. Dax slips her his cred reader and she takes it without looking away from my scowl. My guess is that she recognizes me as a “goddess” and is dumbfounded.
She fumbles through giving us our key and a scripted list of the hotel amenities while Dax grins like an idiot at me the whole time. As soon as we are up the stairs and out of earshot of anyone, I hiss my anger at him. “I can’t believe you were flirting with that woman!” I say, and he stops dead in his tracks.
“Flirting?” he repeats, with shock in his voice. “I was merely trying to charm her into giving us the best room. I’d hardly call that flirting. And anyway, it wasn’t even necessary. The second she saw you she gave it to us without even asking for a bribe.”
“That’s not the point!”
“Well then what is?”
“It’s rude is all,” I say, pressing past him to continue up the stairs.
“Rude? What could be rude about it?” he asks, confusion on his brow.
“It makes me look stupid, Dax.”
“What in the name of the goddesses are you talking about? Is this a human idiosyncrasy that I do not comprehend?”
“No, I’m pretty sure it’s universal…” I grit out under my breath, but his hearing is impeccable.
“Explain yourself,” he says, grabbing me by the arm and halting my assent on a spacious landing.
“Ugh, fine. People see you traveling with a woman, then they see you flirting with another woman. It makes it look like you don’t respect me.”
He grabs me by the lapel of my borrowed vest and pulls me close to him. “Then I will be a cruel beast to every other female we encounter,” he says in a serious expression.
“Oh, never mind,” I say, brushing him off of me. What’s the point in talking if he’s only going to make a joke out of it? I turn, unsure of where to go, but he catches my arm again.
“We are here,” he tells me, nodding toward a heavy wooden door, surrounded by decorative tiles. He swipes the key card over a panel on the wall and the door automatically swings open. The beauty and subtle elegance of the room draws me in.
The floor is tiled and there are few walls. Instead, pillars separate the room’s sprawling spaces. A warm breeze makes long white curtains along the outskirts of the room dance lazily. My eyes take in all the heavy metal sconces, satin pillows, woven rugs, and flickering lanterns filling the room. I bet it will be gorgeous when they light the room at night, but for now the sun pours in from the outer walls. There are no doors or glass-paned windows behind the long, flowy, white curtains. The room is completely open to a massive wraparound balcony. I walk through it with my mouth gaping, being pulled in deeper and deeper as if in a trance.
There’s a huge bed that reminds me of a cloud, the pillows and blankets are that white and fluffy. It, too, is surrounded by those white, gauze-like curtains. Hm…it appears to be the only bed in the room, I think to myself, looking around and frowning.
Finally, I make my way out to the balcony. There are lounge chairs, potted plants, and misters blowing a fine spray of water, making the space seem like a cool oasis despite the sun beating down on us. I look out over the railing. This side of the building doesn’t face the shops or the sad little shanty town by the airfield. Instead it is strategically facing the canyons. I gaze upon a landscape that can only be compared to the Grand Canyon, but it stretches on and on in every direction. In the distance I can hear the whirr of ships racing through the canyons, so deep in the crevice that they cannot be seen. But the silence between Dax me lingers. Though I can feel his stare, I ignore it.
“Were you jealous of that female back there?” he questions finally.
“Jealous? Hah.” Beyond that, I don’t respond. Jealous, God forbid I feel jealous of all the other girls who ever got attention instead of me. I wouldn’t have room for any other emotion if I took that route.
“You know that I have respect for you, right?”
I look at him and see the sincerity in his eyes. He does respect me, even after seeing me at my lowest. But that doesn’t mean I’m worth respecting. The faces of the humans I left behind flash through my mind. Kate. Reagan. I hadn’t known them long, but they were my friends and I left them. It’s hard to not keep a tally of all the cowardly and dishonorable acts I’ve committed since my abduction, all in the name of saving myself.
I hear Dax tsk at me and he leans in to give me one of those gentle head butt things he sometimes does. I wonder if it’s the alien equivalent to a punch on the arm. “How do you like the room?” he asks, changing the conversation to a safer topic, or one that I’ll respond to at least.
“It’s stunning,” I admit. “I’ve never been anywhere like this…well, obviously…but I mean this nice. I’ve never been anywhere this nice,” I say, still feeling a little bit lost and stumbling over my words.
“Would you like to explore it more? You really should see the tub…” He beckons, inching back into the suite.
“The tub? Okay, now you have my attention,” I say, forcing a tight smile and following Dax. His expression tells me he thinks my dark mood has passed, but the reality is that I’m just so tired of being vulnerable in front of him anymore.
I don’t want him to know how jealous I really was of the charming tone he took on when speaking to that alien woman at the front desk. I don’t want him to know I’m not worthy of his respect, and I certainly don’t want to point out all the ways in which my cowardice has motivated my every decision since being abducted. So, I force that smile and push all that darkness down deep inside me. Luckily, the tub he shows me really does command my attention.
“Where are the walls?” I shriek.
“What’s that?” he asks, only giving me half his attention as he dips his clawed hand into the water. “The water is perfect; would you like to take a dip now?”
“Dax! This is the bathroom, right? Well then, where are the walls?”
He smiles a playful smile and tosses his braid over his shoulder as he rises to his feet again. “Tell me, woman, is it your modesty you aim to protect or mine?”
“Like you have a modest bone in your body,” I scoff. “And while we’re on the topic, is there a second bed somewhere? A fold-out couch or something?”
“V,” he scolds, “we have already slept together. Why be so shy?”
“We slept in the same bed once and it was out of necessity.”
“Look at this bed, little goddess, and tell me it is not a necessity to sleep in it,” he says, dragging me over to the bed and pulling back the curtains. It looks so deliciously inviting. I frown and chew my bottom lip.
“It really looks lovely, Dax. How can you afford a place like this anyway?”
“I was paid well in my work with Rennek for the Mother Planet. Before that I was a high-ranking navigation officer in the UPC. Early in my career I was not paid so well, of course. But with the rank I attained came certain benefits, one of which was money. Though I must admit, that profession was not for me. It was more time behind a desk than I am happy with. But we were talking about my wealth, yes? I also do some betting here and there on games of chance and on races, of course. Beyond that I
have investments as well, lately those have made up the bulk of my fortune—”
“Wait, say what now? Wealth? Fortune? Are you saying you’re rich?” I ask, with my brows raised in surprise. Once again, my mental picture of Dax being a fly-by-the-seat-of-his-pants bachelor with a dirty kitchen full of old takeout boxes is dashed. What I’m most surprised about isn’t the fact that he’s well off, it’s the fact that he came from such a successful-sounding career.
“I am quite rich, yes.”
“Then why didn’t you just pay Dlaage outright back on the Lock VI?”
“V, I may be rich, but I still have my principles,” he says in a scolding tone.
“And you left your job with the UPC because it wasn’t hands-on enough?” I ask, still trying to understand this man.
