Chapter 30
CHAPTER THIRTY
Vadias
Garrison
I LAGGED behind the others as we took our final steps off the Dorimisa onto the port dock, reaching up to touch the coolness of her hull for the last time.
Vadias gave a sense of what Old Earth might have been like.
So much green everywhere. Short green plants covering the ground beyond the docking platform, masses of leaves on tall trees both nearby and off in the distance, and all manner of different plants in all shades and sizes in between.
And the smells. The similarity between this and the giant tropical terrarium we’d visited on another colony—its cloying environment full of so many plants it made my head spin—was uncanny.
When you’d lived your whole life on some kind of space colony with an artificial atmosphere, it was no surprise the difference was unpleasant. I already missed the tang of recirculated ship air.
Imani and Fenn seemed entranced though, their heads turning this way and that, grabbing each other and pointing. The huge smiles on their faces softened the knot in my stomach. I wanted them to be happy. I could be happy for them, if not for myself.
The planet this moon orbited hung low in the sky, all ambers and burnt oranges streaked with deep reds and pale yellows.
Large, flat rings spread around it like so many ripples.
If I didn’t know any different, I could almost have believed we were back in the Sol system—but for all it reminded me of Saturn, my heart only ached for a moment. Sol wasn’t where I wanted to be either.
Shohari strode ahead, leading us to the port office where a bored-looking shaa took our details and commed someone to meet us.
She didn’t even glance at me, and while it hurt, I understood.
We’d barely spoken in the hours since we’d left her bed that morning; all the things I wanted to say to her writhed under my skin like so many itches I couldn’t scratch. I tore my gaze away.
Our guide was another shaa, though her orange skin was shot through with red in places, and she had no horns. She told us about the town we were going to, that it was only a short speeder ride, but I didn’t care. I didn’t want any of it.
Heat pricked at my eyes. You were supposed to ask me to stay.
Shohari shifted on her feet, and I swear Muzati kicked her in the calf.
“Hey Cap, we can pick up supplies if we go into town. I’ve always fancied looking around.”
When she replied, she was once again the gruff captain I’d met back on Draim and nothing like the Shohari I’d come to know. “We’re expected on Hydouis. I don’t want further delays.”
“We’re due some shore leave, Captain, surely?” Paiata’s tone was as even as always, but it held an undertone of steel.
Shohari looked pained, glancing at me, then back at her crew. “Aye, then.” She huffed. “I suppose I should see the last of my cargo safe to their destination. They’re my responsibility until then.”
My brows rose, and I didn’t care if she saw. Had she really been planning to drop us off and just leave?
I tamped down the flash of anger threatening to rise. This goodbye would hurt no matter how we did it. If I was in her shoes, I suppose I might have done the same. But, fuck, why couldn’t there be another way?
My companions’ chatter was a background hum as we flew through the forest. The shaa kept the speeder low to the ground, maneuvering round the bends and twists in the rough path with practiced ease.
Tree trunks flanked us, the forest so deep, only darkness lay beyond, though occasional movement broke the eerie stillness.
Forest creatures? I could have asked the guide if I’d cared.
As the trees thinned out, glints of sunlight peeked through until there was more light and space than trees.
The speeder raced across open land, which wasn’t covered by just bushes for long; spires and canopies and windows came into view in a riot of colour, and we came to a gentle stop amongst other parked speeders on the edge of an urban sprawl.
“Welcome to Vadias Town,” the guide said, tossing the speeder control fob into a collection box as she walked past.
There was no time to gawk. She led us through the bustle of people, taking multiple turns down narrow streets before coming out on a wider thoroughfare again.
This one was lined with market stalls, the coloured awnings echoing the canopies sticking out like wings on the buildings above.
Here, the familiar tang of burnt wiring and ionized air blended with scents of sizzling cooking oil and roasting meat, baking bread, and citrus-like fruit.
The myriad ways the town assaulted the senses offered far more comfort than the crisp, earthy sweetness of the quiet dock, and I allowed myself the first deep breath since we arrived.
We weaved our way through the press of people—alien species I recognised, many more I didn’t, those who appeared to be interspecies, along with cyborgs and synthoids. A trio of humans wouldn’t stand out here nearly as much as I’d thought.
We weren’t back in the narrow streets for long before we stopped outside a nondescript building.
Its stone walls matched a number of the structures here, a rough-hewn sandy grey, cut into blocks appearing almost seamless.
An otherwise drab establishment, it was broken up by multiple windows with bright metal frames, one corner engulfed by one of the solitary, giant trees that towered over the town.
“This way.” The wide doorway opened out to a small lobby, where a green-grey alien stood behind a carved wooden counter, his small mouth tilting in a smile revealing too many teeth.
“Welcome to the Wayfarers Rest boarding house.” He inclined his head at us, turning to our guide. “How many do you have for me today?”
“Three newcomers. A new species, human.”
“Very good. Place your ID chips here.”
As he gestured to a metal device on the counter, I put a hand on Imani’s arm. “Wait. What for? What does this do?”
The receptionist settled his large, opalescent eyes on me. “We need to register your presence with the town’s authority,” he said, as if explaining to a small child. “This device reads your ID chips and updates them with your status as a resident.”
This couldn’t be real.
Even when I pinched my arm, it was as if I was watching all this happen to someone else.
Except his words were directed to me, and it was my wrist that went on the device before Imani and Fenn did the same. Alongside them, it was me being told I’d get accommodation and food for two weeks. Me being assured I’d get assistance in finding employment.
We were the ones who were on our own after that, he said. We were the ones handed small slabs of metal and shown to three small, modestly appointed rooms which were ours for as long as we wanted them—as long as we had credits to pay for them after the first two weeks.
“Garrison, are you okay?” Imani’s quiet voice pierced the fog in my brain.
No, none of this is okay.
I clawed my way out of the funk. We were here, and I had to make sure they were all right. This was always going to be harder for me to adjust to, even before I developed feelings for Shohari. They chose this place. I was here to support them. Focus on the mission.
“Fine,” I said, forcing a stiff smile. “What do you think?”
“I like it. It doesn’t look how I imagined, but I like it.”
“Same,” Fenn said. “It’s good to be somewhere we can settle down.”
I wished I felt the same.
“Let me show you the places you can eat,” our guide said. “A number of merchants accept newcomer tokens.” She whisked us back into the mag-lev elevator, the doors opening onto the lobby with a creak and a soft chime.
“I can make sure they’re settled, you know,” she said to the crew of the Dorimisa, who had quietly trailed us this whole time. “I’m sure you have other business to attend to.”
A terrible sense of wrongness had been growing since we landed, and it mushroomed with a surge of nausea.
I swallowed it down. I had to.
“I’m hungry,” Shohari rasped. “We’ll go to the food stalls with you.”
“As you wish.”
Pathetic hope crawled into my chest, as if some more minutes of not speaking, not touching, could change things.
Focus on the mission.
I noted landmarks as we traversed the alley-streets. Left at the building with a blue awning. Right at the shop selling cybernetic parts. Enter the market between the grilled meat stall and the spice vendor.
The potent aroma of fresh chrya called to me, and my hand reached for Shohari, settling on her arm with a featherlight touch. “Can I get you a chrya, Captain?”
It seemed fitting.
Whether her smile was going to be large or small, sad or accepting, I didn’t get a chance to find out, because as soon as her lips began to turn upwards, they fell open, along with her whole jaw.
I whipped my head round. Three people I could only describe as part kri’ith, part something else, stood at another food stall, laughing with each other as they ate from small baskets.
Shohari looked horrified, confused, and terrified all at once.
I grasped her arm. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
The distance we’d built vanished. “Airida,” she breathed, her voice strangled, clutching at me. She wrenched her eyes from them, her amethyst orbs glistening and shifting as she frantically grasped for control. “They look just like my brother.”
“Spines of Kri, your brother is—” Paiata shut his mouth as one of the group rolled his broad shoulders and marched towards Shohari in long, determined strides.
His face was kri’ith, but his mouth wasn’t as wide, and his nose was more prominent. Dark shading like eyebrows decorated his ridged brows. An angry sneer twisted his familiar-yet-not features, and we heard him before he’d crossed half the distance between us.
“What are you staring at, kri’ith?” He spat the last word like a slur. “Are you Orithian? You think you’re better than us? Skykking zealots.”
I was in motion before I could think, putting myself between them. “What did you just call her?”
“You heard me. Bigots like her have no place on Vadias.”
When he took another step, I was ready—eager—to put my hands on his chest and shove. “Don’t fucking touch her.”
“I wouldn’t want to. You should take more care with the company you keep.” With one last disgusted glare, he stalked back to his companions.
Shohari was still staring, her mouth open, so I blocked her line of sight with my body, cupping her cheek. “Are you okay?”
“I don’t know,” she whispered. “What does it mean?”
I had no answers for her, but these people looked like her brother. It had to mean something.
The sense of wrongness that plagued me morphed into a strange anticipation, a tingle gathering in my gut, a restlessness under my skin that demanded I move.
I gripped Shohari’s upper arms. “Stay here. Please.” Then I was striding towards the strangers before I could think about what I was doing.
“I need to talk to you.” My gaze was direct, demanding, and I wasn’t leaving until I had answers. “I’m sorry for any offence caused, but you jumped to the wrong conclusion.”
The one who’d spoken bore a sneer of contempt. “Why should I care?”
“Because I care. I want to know why the sight of you caused that reaction.” Shohari, forgive me for telling him your business. “You look like her brother, and she doesn’t understand.”
The press of bodies behind me wasn’t that of the crowd. Paiata stood by my left shoulder, the shaa guide by my right.
“Peace, Tokoran,” she said. “Please. Will you give these people a moment of your time?”