Alien Ascension

by Tracy Lauren

  The game begins and I use the opportunity to scan the room, wishing Dax was more of a penny slot kind of guy. I helplessly look for a less intimidating corner of this elite section of the casino, but it’s hopeless. There’s no place I’d want to be. As a matter of fact, I’m actually somewhat annoyed Dax even brought me here. I mean, did he honestly think I would like this?

  He eyes his tiles and sets one down in front of himself. I watch the guy next to Dax take his turn by placing a tile balanced on its side. The next turn somehow goes to someone on the opposite side of the table. Each player’s turn appears almost random to me, as does the method to setting down tiles. I watch for some time, but I can’t seem to make sense of the game. Bored, I try to catch Dax’s eye so I can tell him I want to leave. Even when I squeeze his hand he’s so focused on the game that he doesn’t even look up at me. Eventually I resort to people watching. Or alien watching, as is the case.

  A small crowd of aliens move to the bar; they’re drinking fast and talking loud and I almost feel like joining them would be a more enjoyable experience than this. I mean, Dax hasn’t tried to explain the rules of Tilt to me. He hasn’t even offered me a drink. What does he expect me to do? Quietly watch him gamble all night? Suddenly the people at the bar erupt into laughter and I find myself watching them again, but this time with longing.

  Some people can be so easy, they can fall into any group and have a good time. They can laugh, or be funny, or even be the center of attention. That’s how Dax is, and I envy the trait. With that on my mind, I can’t help but notice an alien woman among those at the bar. She is wild looking, with strange tendrils for hair, all cinched up on top of her head. She’s got dark eyes and large, pointed ears covered in a downy fur. There’s an odd texture to her flesh and sweeping markings across all of her exposed skin that makes me wonder if they are naturally occurring or some type of tattoo. She guzzles a drink and slams the glass back down on the bar before saying something clever and causing her group to laugh.

  When I look back at Dax, he finally acknowledges me, only it’s with a bright and cheesy grin that lasts about half a second before he returns his focus to the game. I frown unhappily. Bored half to death, I look back to the bar. This time it is a different woman who draws my attention. This woman, I almost recognize.

  I’ve seen her kind before. The alien Da’vi was the same species, reptilian in appearance. This woman is something else altogether. I can tell by the way men respond to her. She is sex in a dress, and if I thought I envied the first woman, I was wrong.

  “What is it you envy about her?” comes a voice so close to my ear that I actually do slip out of my seat. I narrowly avoid falling onto the ground by clutching the armrests like a life preserver. Dax blindly pats at my knee. Wide eyed, I venture a sideways glance at The Oscillion, who is leaned towards me in his chair. His long black hair cascades down and those nightmarish eyes bore into me with a certain something in them that makes me want to squirm. It’s like he can see right through me and his tone walks a tightrope between empathic and condescending.

  “Excuse me?” I say quietly, not wanting to garner the attention of the others at the table.

  “The way you look at that woman, it’s as if she possesses something you lack,” he says plainly. “I was simply wondering if you would share with me what it was.”

  The Oscillion’s words melt away some of my fear and I turn to frown at him in anger. “I believe you’re mistaken,” I tell him firmly.

  “I rarely am,” he says, with those eyes still penetrating me.

  “Those sound like famous last words to me,” I say without looking at him, and I hear a chuckle. It’s an ungodly noise coming from him, both melodic and harsh at the same time. Despite my desire to remain unaffected by this jerk, I can’t help but squirm in my seat. The pleasure he must be getting from making me uncomfortable makes me fume.

  “I’ve made you upset. I apologize. Let me try again. I see you are uncomfortable here; this isn’t the type of place you are accustomed to. Zair, that is the female by the bar, she lives here on Quar and I’m guessing you can see the ease with which she navigates this room and those men. I imagine it would be enviable to see what you long to do come so easily to another.”

  “I’m sorry, but I think you must have me confused with someone else. You don’t know me. Nor do you know what I’m thinking when I look across this room. I could be staring at a lampshade for all you know.”

  His smile is slow and sly and I can’t seem to maintain eye contact with him, no matter how hard I try. “I think I do know you. Perhaps even better than you know yourself.”

  “I’m going to have to disagree with you. Again.”

  “Is that so? Tell me then, sweet V. How well do you know yourself?”

  I look at him now, indignant. Though I have the distinct feeling that this is what a mouse feels like when a cat toys with it.

  Before I have the chance to tell The Oscillion to shove it, there’s a commotion at the table. Dax flips a series of tiles and the table mumbles their awe.

  “It appears I have missed my move,” The Oscillion notices, scanning the game pieces. “Allow me a chance to redeem myself?” he asks Dax.

  “The night may be young, but if The Oscillion is looking for redemption it is not young enough,” Dax laughs. “However, I will offer you a rematch.”

  “Let it always be said that you are a generous male.”

  “I would not be so quick to praise if I were you. To speak the truth, I plan on winning this next round as well,” Dax informs him.

  “We will have to see about that.”

  A more vigorous round of Tilt begins, with The Oscillion returning his focus to the tiles. Though the game bores me I’m happy his attention is elsewhere for the time being. I didn’t like his open assessment of me. I didn’t like how he judged and compared me to that other woman. I shoot a quick glance at her and see her flirtatiously wrapping her arms around a man at the bar who welcomes her embrace. What I hate most about what The Oscillion said was the truth behind it.

  I want to be like so many others, but continue to just be me. I think of Kate, Reagan, and Allison. They were so brave, so eager to find a sense of belonging in this new life. I think of how easygoing and happy Dax always is; there isn’t a place in this universe that he couldn’t fit in. And though my envious mind is on her, I don’t venture to look at the woman at the bar again. I don’t want The Oscillion to attempt any more insights on my inner workings.

  In a full-on self-loathing session, my mind goes to the place I want to run from. The place that I’m not proud of and I don’t want to think about at all. My cowardice. That’s what makes me such a monster.

  I think of that little boy outside. Dax did what I would have never done. I saw that ship coming. It would have mowed the kid down, the sweet little thing that has been following me around all afternoon, and I would have let it happen. I tried to let it happen. When I saw Dax was going to attempt a rescue, I tried to hold him back.

  It was my own selfishness and cowardice that made me do it. I didn’t think Dax would make it. I thought he’d be killed too and then I’d be left all alone. In the split second it took my brain to process what was happening, my first reaction was my own well-being, not the little boy’s.

  My jaw tightens at the memory and I push the thoughts from my mind. I can’t let myself think of those kinds of things, I can’t dwell on how horrible I am. I just need to keep moving, hopefully further and further away from who I am. Maybe I can be someone else if I push hard enough, if I run far enough from who I used to be. I glance up at The Oscillion as he places a tile. His eyes are trained on me and his black lips curl into a smirk. I look away quickly, angry at whatever he might be thinking, at whatever it is he thinks he knows about me. And suddenly I want to prove to him how wrong he is.

  I look over at Dax, engrossed in his game, and get an idea. It’s a safe idea, but an idea nonetheless. I stand and inch over in front of him, knowing that he
’ll hold me if he thinks I’m scared. I slide onto his lap. As always, he welcomes me into his embrace and smiles warmly at me as I snuggle against him. He wraps one arm around my waist and casually continues the game.

  I turn to The Oscillion, planning to shoot him a smug look, proving just how wrong he is about me. But when I look up, the wide smile on his face makes me feel like I just lost a bet. My own smile fades in confusion.

  Just then an approaching commotion garners everyone’s attention. The woman from the bar, Zair, is quickly approaching with her sultry and smiling eyes locked on Dax. I watch her in apparent slow motion as she slips around the seat I share with Dax and slides onto his lap opposite me. For a split second my expression reveals my outrage, though the only person to catch it is The Oscillion. Everyone else is watching her.

  “Welcome home, Dax!” she says with laughter in her voice as she wraps her arms around his neck. Dax artfully dodges the woman, prying her arms from around his neck and helping her up. Unperturbed, she sits squarely on the game table in front of him.

  Up close, I see that she is definitely similar to the alien Da’vi, and though she is quite different from a human woman, her beauty is undeniable. Her scales are a stunning green ombre covered only by a slinky black dress and delicate gold bangles. Her head is hairless and her eyes are a captivating greenish gold. On her feet, contradicting all her femininity, are a pair of black, lace-up boots covered in the orangey sand indicative of all of Quar. I look at her from head to toe and I hate her.

  “I’m happy to see you back on Quar, old friend. Next time you should send a comm ahead so I might be prepared. Now, tell me where are you staying and can I persuade you to stay with me instead?” she asks with mock coyness.

  “Greetings, Zair, it is good to see you too. My traveling companion and I will have to decline your offer. We are enjoying the suite at the inn on Market Street.”

  “I adore that suite! Perhaps I’ll have to make some time to join you there during your stay. I’d hate for you to leave Quar without having the opportunity to reconnect,” she says meaningfully.

  “I’m sure we’ll see you at the canyons,” Dax says politely. I look back and forth between the two, deeply annoyed that no one has bothered to make introductions. As a matter of fact, Dax hasn’t introduced me to anyone here at the table.

  I’m suddenly reminded of my first boyfriend in high school…well, my only boyfriend in high school. Mitchell. He lived a few doors down from my grandmother’s house and we’d play together as kids if none of his other friends could come out and play. I knew I was second string, but it was all I had. No other kids were inviting me out to ride bikes. Besides, when we played together we really did have fun. I know he liked me.

  Then, when we were teenagers, he asked me to be his girlfriend. Unfortunately, it was a continuation of the same dynamics present when we were kids. Once I went to join him outside on his front porch only to realize he had company, another girl from school. I smiled and talked and laughed with them for nearly an hour before it dawned on me. This other girl was his starting lineup girlfriend and I was still second string.

  “I hope to see more of you than just at the canyons! After all, it’s been so long since we’ve been close,” she purrs at him. That’s enough, I think to myself, and I reach for the soft underside of Dax’s arm, pinching hard with my nails and giving a little twist for good measure.

  “V!” he squeals. Dax jumps in his seat and tightens his hold on me, likely trying to restrain me from pinching him again. “What I mean to say is, this is V. My traveling companion.”

  “Hello, V,” Zair says, finally looking down at me. “You made a good choice in hiring Dax to travel with you, he always has the most exciting adventures.”

  “You misunderstand, Zair, this is not a contracted agreement,” Dax explains.

  “No?” she asks surprised, giving me a once-over. She is seemingly unimpressed. “Well, you certainly are in for an adventure.”

  Turning back to Dax, she drops me from the conversation before I’ve even had the chance to respond. “How long are you staying on Quar?”

  “I expect he has come early for the Rally,” The Oscillion puts in.

  “Well, you are early. Planning to get some training in before the opening?” she asks him, crossing her arms over her chest. “You’ll need it. I’ve been putting a lot of work into my ships and no one knows the canyon courses like I do.”

  “From what I remember, your ships needed a lot of work,” Dax teases her, but his tone is sweet and without malice in it (unfortunately).

  She frowns for a second before a warm smile spreads across her lips. “It has been too long since I’ve seen you Dax, and if I have anything to do with it, you’ll be seeing a lot more of me before you leave Quar.” Zair rises from the table and saunters away, looking back over her shoulder to keep her eyes on Dax, never once looking back at me. It’s like she doesn’t even view me as an obstacle in her way to Dax and I’m literally sitting in his lap. No, it’s more like I’m invisible. It’s more like I’m Prudence all over again.

  Dax gives me an apologetic squeeze. Unfairly, I frown at him. It’s not that I’m upset at him over the sexy reptilian woman’s shameless behavior. I mean, he didn’t do anything wrong. It’s more that I’m upset with me. Disappointed, really. What I really want is to be the kind of woman worthy of sitting on his lap, the kind that no one else would ever dare to try and squeeze in on. I mean, honestly, I can’t believe she just dropped right into his lap with me! My anger rises the more I think about it.

  The game has resumed seamlessly and everyone returns their attention to their tiles. Everyone except The Oscillion, of course. I can feel his eyes boring into me, but I don’t bother looking over at him. I’m mad enough as it is and have no interest in seeing the mocking pity I assume to find in his eyes. The tiles on the table click together with every play while I silently seethe, hating myself, hating Zair, hating—

  “We are nearing the final play,” The Oscillion says.

  “Scared of your impending loss?” Dax jokes, his black eyes twinkling with amusement.

  “On the contrary, I’d like to up the bet.”

  “Sounds interesting. You know I am always game.” Dax shrugs.

  “Would you consider betting your traveling companion then?” The Oscillion asks.

  My blood suddenly runs cold and I don’t know if the table falls silent or if the pounding of my heart overcomes the sounds of the room around me. Dax’s grip on me tightens and I can feel the rumble of a low growl escaping him. His tail slips up around me and wraps tightly around one of my wrists. The Oscillion’s guards stiffen and their hands go to their holsters.

  “Relax!” The Oscillion laughs. “I can see you are not interested in placing such a bet. We can stick to the traditional winnings. But I would be remiss if I did not at least ask,” he says with a smile and a shrug.

  “Double the bet,” Dax says, his voice colder than I’ve ever heard it. And though his posture relaxes, his grip on me does not.

  My hands tremble and I ball them into fists in my lap, forcing them to still. I wonder what he could be getting at. Why tease me and then try to win me in a bet? When I glance over at him I’m not surprised to find him staring at me, but the look on his face is kind and he inclines his head at me as if saying you’re welcome. My brows furrow in confusion, and he nods again, indicating Dax’s grip on me.

  Oh. Was he trying to prove something? What? That Dax has got my back? Well, I guess that is good to know. I give him a short and curt nod in response and pretend to return my focus to the game, but it’s all just tiles to me—some tilted, some flat. It’s only the two of them still placing tiles at this point and quickly their plays become faster and faster.

  “It is lucky he did not bet you,” The Oscillion laughs as he places his turn on the table. Dax seems to falter for a moment, fingering two tiles in the palm of the hand not wrapped tightly around me.

  “You are trying to throw me,
Oscillion. You think you are hurting my game, but it only tells me your remaining tiles are weak.”

  The Oscillion shrugs. “If you are so sure, why not up the bet once more?”

  Without hesitating, Dax reaches over and turns one of his stacks of tiles. A completely ambiguous move in my mind, but those at the table who understand the game gasp and lean in to mummer to one another. Dax chooses one of the two tiles in his hand and sets it on the table. All eyes shoot to The Oscillion, who leans back in his seat and smiles, but it is a smile of resignation. He places his last three tiles face up. Slowly, one by one, his eyes on Dax the whole time.

  No one says anything and I look around in confusion, trying to figure out what the hell happened. Finally, The Oscillion lets out one of his oddly melodic laughs and claps his hands together, applauding Dax. “It is not often I have to bluff. It appears my skill for it has gone by the wayside,” he says. People are still murmuring and begin rising from the table.