As I walk, her hand grabs at my tail. I jump in surprise, my body reacting with a jolt, and I turn back to glare at her. "Not the tail," I mouth, frowning. Not that it felt bad. It just felt a little…too good.
She flutters her lashes at me, all innocence, but at least the tension is gone from her body. That's something, at least. It's just transferred to one very specific part of me.
We cut through a few more side-tunnels and then the station opens up to the central hub. If you look up, you can see twenty floors of the station itself, most of them slums and cheap residences, all linked by a constantly moving circuit of elevators. Here, tropical plants hang from planters and the air feels wet. Booths and merchant tents line the walls, cluttered with wares as crowds of shoppers pass through. Here, you can feel the station's enormous engines humming under your feet, a steady, comforting thrum. A gentle breeze flows through here, too, and high above is a circulating air unit that keeps things from becoming too stagnant. People of every species crowd in here, shopping or selling. There's a faint scent of a food vendor selling noodle cups, and strains of music somewhere in the distance.
Ruth's hand returns to my back again, as if seeking reassurance, and I see more than one person stopping to stare at her. It's expected—humans are rare and prized, for all that I seem to be swimming with the damned things lately.
Bist's retinue heads up to the second floor, and I follow in a separate elevator with Kazex and Ruth. The moment the doors open, the music grows loud, the cheerful sounds drowning out the conversations below. I head toward the cantina, keeping my steps quick and decisive. I've seen scummy cantinas but this one seems better than most. There are no dancing slaves in the windows, the place itself seems clean, and there's even a szzt guard at the entrance.
As cantinas go, this place is practically classy.
48
RUTH
Dear lord, this place is a fucking dump.
I scoot closer to Straik as we head into what must be a space restaurant. I'm shocked at the station. I'd expected it to be different, but I wasn't anticipating the crowds, the smells, the oppressive humidity. There are so many strange-looking aliens of every shape and size imaginable, and I feel as if they're all staring at me. I don't like it one bit, and I'm suddenly glad I didn't run away. If this is the kind of place I'd have run to, I'd have been fucked over in a heartbeat. A human can't blend here. I'm not even sure Straik blends here. I see some blue hides, but not a lot. It's just an utter mishmash of species, and as we pass a sign that flashes with strange lettering, I realize I can't read anything either.
Double fucked.
Like it or not, I'm dependent on Straik. I knew that, but coming here was good. It just emphasizes my precarious position in the universe. It actually makes me homesick for the Buoyant Star and its pristine, empty halls. At least I felt like I belonged there. I know for sure I don't belong here, and what happens when we're “rescued”? Is this what we have to look forward to? The thought is terrifying and I move a little closer to him.
I step in what feels like the billionth puddle of cold water and follow as they head inside a restaurant. At first, I think it's a restaurant, but it soon becomes obvious that it's more like a titty bar. Strange, wailing music fills the air as we go inside, and I can see women in scanty outfits gyrating and dancing between tables as people eat. Straik and the bug guy head for a table in the back, and immediately one of the dancers peels off and heads in our direction. She starts dancing the moment Straik sits in his chair and adjusts his robes, practically rubbing herself all over his arm and smiling seductively.
He recoils as if disgusted and pulls out a couple square chips from his pocket, tossing them at her. "Go away."
She does, pouting a little. I can't help but feel slightly triumphant that he sent her packing. Almost makes up for the fact that I'm standing in a puddle of ice water, again. The ceilings seem to drip here, though nobody pays attention to it but me. I watch as a droplet plunks down on the table in front of Straik and his bug buddy, and when they activate some panel thing in the center, food rises out of the table, hot and steaming.
I shift my feet, glancing over at Kazex. He stands a few paces away, watching everything, his blaster at hand. The bug guy's people all look like some weird amalgamation of cat and human, and when I look over, I catch them watching me. I sidle a little closer to Straik's seat. I shiver, because the temperature is unpleasantly chilly in here, though it doesn't seem to bother anyone else, and my toes feel like ice cubes against the frigid metal flooring. Someone passes by with what looks like green beer and sets it down on another table, and another dancing girl sways past, clearly trying to get Straik's attention. Kazex watches her with a hungry look, but Straik just glances up at me and frowns.