“The cape probably isn’t necessary,” Sarden agreed.
I was pleasantly surprised that he was giving in so easily.
“Great! Then just give me a pair of dark glasses to hide my eyes and I’m ready to go.”
He frowned. “We need to hide your hair as well. It’s so red it really stands out.”
“Says the man who has red skin,” I pointed out.
“Which is normal for a Vorn, even if it’s not for an Eloim,” he said. “But your combination of pale, silky skin with such a profusion of red hair is unusual—and desirable.”
“Is that what this is about? Look at me in this get-up.” I spread my arms, indicating my bulky, be-caped figure. “Do I look desirable to you?”
Sarden’s golden eyes suddenly went half-lidded.
“Always, sweetheart,” he murmured. “I find you extremely desirable, which I think I’ve made clear in the past.”
“I didn’t mean…I mean, I wasn’t fishing for compliments,” I said, feeling my cheeks go hot at the way he was looking at me. “I just meant, I don’t think anyone is going to be lusting after me while I’m wearing a baggy sweatshirt and a freaking Batman cape. That’s all.”
“I know what you mean, but I disagree.” He frowned. “You really have no idea of your own beauty, do you?”
“I, um…” I didn’t know what to say about that. When you’ve been called “chubby” and “chunky” and been freckled and short and pretty much the exact opposite of what society says is beautiful, like I had all your life, it’s hard to get a sense of your own “beauty.”
“Luckily, I do,” Sarden continued evenly. “Which is why I had Al synthesize this.” He pulled something from behind his back and I stared at it in disbelief.
“No,” I said at last, when I could talk. “No way am I wearing that thing.”
Sarden arched an eyebrow at me.
“Then I guess you’re not coming with me.”
“What? But I did everything you asked. Look, just give me a scarf to wear over my hair or something. But not this—how will I even breathe in it?”
I gestured at what he was holding out to me—a mask. But not just any mask—this thing would cover my entire head. It looked a little like those caricature rubber masks that bank robbers use to protect their identity when they’re committing the crime of the century.
And wearing this thing would certainly be a crime. It wasn’t just ugly—it was hideous.
Green, pebbled skin that reminded me of an alligator’s hide, black, compound eyes like a fly, and pointy, Shrek-like ears stared back at me. The mouth was a small, blue wrinkled hole and the nose wasn’t even a nose—just two flat nostril slits.
“What is this even supposed to be?” I asked Sarden. “It’s awful.”
“It’s a Grubbian,” he said patiently. “They’re one of the few sentient species as small as you Earthlings. Also, they’re traders, known to frequent the outer ports. You’ll fit right in with this on.”
“I’ll smother with this on,” I protested.”
“It’s very comfortable— made out of a special smart-fabric. I ran a shipment of it for a rich merchant in the Acanthion system last cycle and kept a bolt back for myself. Thought it might come in handy.” He grinned at me. “It’s illegal in most systems, you know.”
“Great,” I grumbled. “So now you’re trying to make an intergalactic criminal out of me.”
“Oh, you’ll see plenty of criminals in the Giedi Prime port—but only if you wear this.”
He nodded at the mask and frowned at me. With a sinking feeling, I understood he wasn’t going to let up until I put the damn thing on. And he said I had a one track mind!
“All right—fine.” Gathering my hair into a loose, messy bun at the nape of my neck, I pulled the weird Grubbian mask over my head.
I had expected the closed in, claustrophobic sensation and the weird, plasticky smell of a Halloween mask. I was pleasantly surprised though—the mask was completely breathable so I didn’t get the feeling I was suffocating. I could tell something was over my face, but it was more like a thin piece of fabric or gauze—the same sensation I imagined I would feel if I was just wearing a veil draped over my head.
“Well?” Sarden asked.
“All right.” I sighed. “It’s not awful. But won’t it look weird, me not having any facial expressions. I mean, unless, uh, Grubbians just walk around stone-faced all day.”
“Oh, you have expressions, all right,” he remarked. “Every time your face moves, so does the mask. Even the tiniest twitch is relayed to the smart-fabric.”
“Smart-fabric, huh?” I murmured.
“See for yourself,” he gestured at the 3-D viewer again.
I looked at it, taking in my weird new appearance and wrinkled my nose.
The ugly green mask wrinkled its nose too—well, the nostril slits did, anyway.
“Hey!” I didn’t know whether to be horrified or delighted. I settled for a mixture—hor-lighted?—and made another face which the mask copied perfectly.
I winked my eyes—the big, black bug eyes of the mask winked back. I waggled my eyebrows and the brow-ridges of the mask did the same. I stuck out my tongue—the mask did too. Only the mask’s tongue was long and thin and blue. Amazing.
Sarden let loose a deep, rumbling laugh and I realized I was acting like a fool. But honestly, it was so cool—I couldn’t help myself.
“Okay,” I said, looking up at him. “This is pretty awesome. I mean, it’s ugly as sin but I like it anyway.”
He raised an eyebrow at me.
“So you’ll wear it with no more complaining?”
“No more complaining,” I promised. “This is going to be fun.”
“Zoe…” He put a hand on my shoulder and looked at me intently, suddenly completely serious. “All joking aside, the station on Giedi Prime is damn dangerous. There are going to be males there who would cut you to pieces and use you for bait for a xanthun hunt without a second thought. So be careful when we’re down there and never get too far from me. All right?”
His words made me feel like someone had dumped a bucket of ice cubes into the pit of my stomach.
“Okay,” I said, in a much more subdued voice. “I got it. I’m just there to gather information and I won’t get too far from you.”
“Good.” He nodded. “Now here’s what to listen for…”
Chapter Nineteen
Zoe
I scanned the dim, smoky area of the VIP lounge carefully, trying to stay to the shadows and look unobtrusive. Not that I stood out at all. Even with my ugly-ass mask on, I was by far one of the least noticeable people in the big, weird room.
There was a kind of round, circular bar at the center of the lounge that was made of what looked like bones. What kind of bones, I didn’t know and didn’t want to find out. The ivory of alien femurs and tibias and scapulas and whatever the other bones were gleamed in the dim, hazy light. Whoever or whatever it was that had donated the raw material for the grisly bar must have been big though—freaking huge. Most of the aliens sitting around the bone bar were Sarden’s size or even bigger and not all of them were humanoid, but none of them looked like they had bones big enough to make such massive furniture out of.
Well, almost none of them. Far at the end of the bar was a creature the size of an elephant, taking up three of the bone bar stools at once with his wrinkled, purple behind. He spoke in a voice so low I felt it as a trembling vibration in the air and seemed to be having a conversation with the bartender—who had three faces and was speaking with several other customers at the same time.
Beside the purple elephant man sat a thin woman—I thought it was a woman, anyway—wearing an elegant fur bikini which barely covered her three gigantic breasts. She had light green skin and was smoking the longest, thinnest cigarette I had ever seen. It must have been three feet long and the smoke coming out of it changed colors occasionally, from pink to p
urple to dark, cerulean blue.
Sarden was working the other end of the lounge, casting an occasional glance in my direction. I was keeping to the fringes of the crowd, listening as best I could while I pretended to drink a weird, fizzing concoction that didn’t look too different from the liquid in the healing foot bath he had used on me. I couldn’t really taste it through the mask but I pretended to suck it up through the long, tube-like, blue tongue, which was how Sarden had told me Grubbians drank.
A band played in the corner—making loud, unpleasant squawking sounds on bagpipe-looking instruments that appeared to be growing out of the musicians’ bodies. I wondered if we were being serenaded by their burps and coughs and other bodily noises—that was certainly what it sounded like, anyway. Ugh.
Honestly, if this was the VIP lounge, I would hate to see the regular one. It really wasn’t a very pleasant place at all. But then, I wasn’t there for pleasantries. I needed to collect information and I was hot on the trail of someone I thought might have some.
He was a big son-of-a-bitch—even bigger than Sarden, I estimated, though not quite in the same league as the purple elephant man. I had only seen him from behind because he was hunched over the bar with his head down, saying something into a communications device gripped in one big hand. His skin was a dusky blue, the color of the sky at twilight when the sun is just starting to sink, and he was wearing black leather trousers and a leather vest to match, which left his massive, muscular arms bare.
Between the bass rumblings of the elephant man and the strange, unmusical sounds coming from the “band” in the corner of the large room, it was hard to hear anything. But I was absolutely positive I’d heard the big blue guy say, “Tazaxx” into his phone-thingy. Trying to be quiet and unobtrusive, I crept closer.
“No, don’t know if she’s here or not,” he was growling to whoever he was talking to. “I’ll have to do recognizance and it won’t be easy—Tazaxx doesn’t let anyone into his compound without a damn good reason. Fuckin’ asshole.”
There it was again! I was certain I’d heard the name this time! I snuck even closer…and that was the moment when a drunk alien with two heads bumped into me.
“Oh, ‘scuse me. Pardon me!” one head said, nodding a drunken apology.
“Watch where you’re going! Clumsy Grubbians!” the other one barked. Apparently he was an angry drunk, even if the other head wasn’t.
“Sorry,” I muttered, because I just wanted him to move along and let me listen some more. But that wasn’t good enough for the two headed guy.
“Do you even know who you’re speaking to?” the second head demanded, looking down his long nose at me.
“Uh, Zaphod Beeblebrox?” I said, hazarding a guess.
“What did you call me?” the second head demanded. “Is that some kind of insult?”
“How dare you insult my brother?” the first head asked, getting into the act now.
Oh, so they were brothers? That must be awkward on dates. Not that having two heads was ever going to be simple.
“Look, I wasn’t trying to be insulting. It was a joke and not a very good one.” I made what I hoped was a placating “calm down” gesture with one hand. “Why don’t we just forget about it and go our separate ways?”
“Such an insult can never be forgotten or forgiven!” The second head proclaimed. He shoved me with one of his three arms (did I mention the three arms?) and my drink flew out of my glass and landed on the back of the big, blue alien’s head, dousing his black, skull-cut hair with fizzing blue.
“What the fuck?”
The big blue guy spun around, moving much faster than anyone that huge ought to be able to. He took one look at me and the empty drink in my hand and grabbed me by the front of my shirt.
“The Hell do you think you’re doin’?” he growled in a deep, menacing voice. Up close I was surprised to see that he had horns like Sarden’s—only his were thicker and curled like a ram’s horns—also they were jet black. There was a curving black tattoo that grew up from one muscular pec to encircle his thick neck in a pattern that reminded me of thorns.
But the weirdest thing about him was his eyes—it was It was as if they had been reversed. The whites were jet black and the pupil and iris were outlined in white.
“Oh, I…I’m so sorry,” I gasped, tugging at the bottom hem of my shirt. Al had yet to manage to synthesize me a working bra and I was afraid that if the blue alien pulled my shirt up much further, my bare breasts would be exposed. That would certainly blow my cover. Nothing like flashing your titties at an alien bar to let them know you’re human.
“The fuck did you throw your drink at me?” he demanded, his white-on-black eyes narrowing and his lips peeling back in a snarl. Great, he had two short, sharp fangs to go with the weird eyes and black horns.
Some people are just blessed, I guess.
“I…I didn’t! I mean, not on purpose!” I exclaimed breathlessly. “He shoved me! He…” I looked around for the two headed alien but he had conveniently disappeared.
“He, who?” the big alien demanded, shaking me.
“The two-headed guy. He was just here—he was really drunk and he shoved into me and tried to pick a fight.”
“Right. Tried to pick a fight while you were busy listenin’ in on my conversation,” he growled. “What are you, anyway?” His nostrils wrinkled. “I can tell you’re not really Grubbian.” He pulled me closer and took a deeper sniff. “And you’re not male either. So who in the Scalding Hells…”
“She’s with me,” Sarden said, suddenly appearing behind the blue alien’s massive shoulder. His eyes were glowing molten gold with rage and his voice was a deep, angry growl. “So put her the fuck down or suffer the consequences.”
The blue guy whipped around to face Sarden with me still clutched in his fist. I was sure at any minute my shirt would rip open or pull all the way up to my neck and then the whole bar would see my fun-puppies. But when he caught sight of Sarden, his expression suddenly changed from one of irritation and anger to pleased disbelief.
“Sarden?” he asked. “Sarden de’Lagorn?”
“Gravex? Grav N’gol? I don’t believe it!” Sarden put out an arm and the big blue guy grasped it, his hand closing over Sarden’s forearm as Sarden’s hand closed over his. “How long has it been?”
“Too long,” Sarden said, positively grinning now. “I haven’t seen you since our time on Vorn 6 when you, well…” He trailed off, looking extremely uncomfortable.
“You can say it,” the blue guy whose name was apparently Grav rumbled. “Since I was tried and found guilty in the High Court.”
“Listen, for what it’s worth, I never believed you did it,” Sarden said earnestly.
“But I did do it.” Grav grinned, flashing his short, sharp fangs. “Which is why they sent me away to triple max detention. But I’m out now, as you can see.”
“All I can see is that I’m about to be exposed here,” I said, breaking into their conversation. “I hate to interrupt your reunion but if you guys are friends, could you please put me down?”
“Oh—sorry.” Grav set me on my feet and I smoothed down the front of my shirt, relieved not to be exposed. He pointed a thumb at me and looked at Sarden. “Who is she anyway and why is she sneakin’ around listening in on other people’s conversations?”
“She’s with me.” Sarden pulled me close, draping one arm around my shoulders protectively.
“Yeah, you said that but who is she?” Grav’s nose wrinkled. “What is she? I’ve never smelled anything like her—so fuckin’ sweet.”
“She’s not available.” Sarden’s voice went from friendly to a menacing growl so fast it made my head spin. Apparently his trust in his old friend only went so far.
“I didn’t think she was,” Grav rumbled, frowning. “Hell, I can smell your scent all over her, Sarden. I was just curious—that’s all.” He frowned at me. “Curious the same way your little female w
as about me. Why do you have her skulking around this fuckin’ place anyway if you’re so protective? It’s not very damn safe, you know.”
Sarden sighed and seemed to relax a little.
“I know. But she insisted.” He gave me a look which I returned with interest. “The truth is, she’s here helping me gather any information we can get about Sellah.”
“Sellah? Your Eloim blood-sister?” Grav frowned as he grabbed a napkin looking thing from the bar to swab at the back of his head which was still dripping with my drink. “What about her?”
Sarden took a look around the bar. Nobody seemed to be listening but he still frowned.
“Let’s take this reunion someplace a little more private,” he muttered. “Come on.”
“Sure.” Grav shrugged amiably and the three of us went to find a dark corner—of which there were plenty in the dim, smoky lounge. Walking between them, I felt like a little kid between two adults—they were both so freaking huge.
I wondered if Grav was part Vorn like Sarden. His horns were a little different and his eyes and skin color were completely unlike Sarden’s but they both had the same big, muscular build and confident way of walking.
We finally got settled in a booth with extremely high sides and a gauzy curtain at the entrance to keep prying eyes out. Apparently the regular patrons of the VIP lounge valued their privacy. I sat beside Sarden, who kept his arm around me, and across from Grav. The table of the booth was so high, it was almost up to my chin, though both guys rested their brawny forearms on it easily.
“So what happened to your sister?” Grav asked, frowning. “Is she all right?”
“I don’t know—I hope so,” Sarden said grimly. “She was kidnapped and sold to a wealthy Gord merchant—Tazaxx. He has a compound on Giedi Prime where he keeps his private exhibit—beautiful and unique females from all over the galaxy. Some he keeps but some—”
“He auctions off. Right.” Grav nodded.
“So you know about him?” Sarden leaned forward eagerly. “What can you tell me about the situation?”