Maggie
“How far down is it?” I look out he window of the small flyer Driok is piloting through the almost infinitely tall buildings of Xracak City.
“The depths is a place almost no one goes. Not these days,” Driok says. “The city had to start somewhere, but the original Xracak inhabitants are long gone,” he adds. “It is a long way down.”
I hum under my breath.
The city itself is still a myriad of lights. The two suns tend to sit low in the sky, creating a horizon, and the buildings below are still illuminated. Those above glow silver and gold in the light of the burning orbs.
There are huge symbols which run up and over the sides of buildings in languages I cannot read. The nano bots in my system can translate speech, of any alien species I have met, but not anything written. It makes me curious.
“What does that mean?” I ask Driok as we swing round past another sign.
“It is attempting to make the sale for a new type of synthetic foodstuff,” he says, hardly even looking at it.
“And that one?” I point out another, one which looks like a set of arseholes and an exclamation mark.
“It is a religious center,” he says. “Are you unable to read?”
“I can read, but only in my own language, and these are not in my language.”
“Your nanos do not translate text?”
I shake my head. Driok growls under his breath as if disappointed. I change the subject.
“Are you absolutely sure the information you’re buying is trustworthy?”
“No,” he says. “After Szorn, I only trust you.”
I probably shouldn’t let his words make me feel all warm inside, but they do. Also I have Horace in my jacket, and he makes me feel warm on the outside. Driok did not want to bring Horace, but Horace had other ideas.
Driok doesn’t know this. Yet.
“My contact claims to know the whereabouts of my crew and ship,” Driok continues as we bank again and then rise up alongside a huge building which glitters and glitters. “It seems unlikely, but it’s the only option we have at the moment.”
“Who is your contact?”
A muscle jumps in Driok’s jaw.
“It’s a flesh trader.”
“Flesh trader? You mean slaves? Or humans like me?” I spit out. “What sort of place is this?” I grumble, thinking about the healer whose experience of humans was abductees like myself.
Driok fixes me with his slit pupils’ gaze.
“There are many parts of many galaxies which have no morals and no concerns unless it is for credits and their own skins, should they have them.” One corner of his mouth lifts in an expression of disgust. “Plenty have no honor at all. Which is why so many seek out predators like the Sarkarnii to do their dirty work.”
“Like the Gonoz?”
“Like the Gonoz.” Driok swings the flyer into a large, open hangar filled with other flyers. “They want a piece of what we are before this entire galaxy is lost.”
“That bad, huh?” I squish my fingers into Horace’s silky fur in an attempt to calm my heartbeat.
“It won’t happen,” Driok growls. “Not to me, not to you, not to any Sarkarnii, or the galaxy in which Vorostor sits.” He punches at the dashboard, and with a low hiss, the flyer lands itself. “For want of anywhere else, this place is our home now.”
The gull wing door of the flyer opens silently.
“I guess it is. I’d prefer it if Xracak City isn’t though,” I say, getting up from my chair and sauntering to the door, with the bulk of Driok behind me.
“Whatever you want, my little mate, you get,” he says in my ear, heating me up from the inside in a different way this time.
“And what if I want another horc?” I ask.
The muscles in Driok’s jaw work overtime.
“Perhaps,” he says, with impressive restraint.
I burst out with laughter, just as two tall, thin purple aliens walk past us as if on stilts. They turn their decidedly insect-like faces toward me, and one of them releases a series of clicks and burrs which absolutely does not translate.
Driok puts his arm over my body and growls. I see his tail lashing in my peripheral vision as they hurry away.
“What was all that about?”
“I don’t speak Viok. But those things consider far too many species as a snack. They will not look at you again.”
I don’t quite understand myself sometimes because, despite being told I could be eaten at any time, my body is buzzing with excitement to see something of Xracak City other than the inside of our quarters.
I might not like the urban, but this is so very different from Vorostor, and if we will be leaving…it would be a shame not to enjoy what I see.
The hangar opens out into what appears to be a sort of alien shopping mall.
It sort of reminds me of a beehive in the pale-yellow coloration and that there are hundreds upon hundreds of alcoves, all of them inhabited by a myriad of stores.
A massive atrium rises above, the alcoves arranged in a hexagon shape.
Here and there are windows letting in the light from the suns.
The air smells artificial and of ozone, so I’m surprised when I see what looks like an open charcoal barbecue where food sizzles without scent.
Driok flares his nostrils as we pass it.
“Why can’t I smell anything?” I say quietly. “It’s weird.”
“Many species have a very sensitive sense of smell. The owners of this place have chosen to use scent diminishers in order to attract more customers.”
“So, no one can smell anything?”
“No.”
“Not even you?”
“I can still find your scent,” Driok says in a low, deep baritone. “I could make you out anywhere.”
I am not sure what to make of his announcement, but before I can reply, a great shaggy creature, part bison, part hippo steps in front of us. It has a bright gold sash across its chest which looks incongruous against the dark, messy fur.
“Lord Driok,” it says though huge teeth. “You are to come with me…and bring your pet.” He looks at me.
“Not a pet.” I finger the ray gun in my pocket, pushing the outline against my clothing, which the creature notices immediately.
“Maggie is my elite guard, and she has a bite so venomous no one has ever recovered,” Driok says smoothly. “So, I suggest you do not refer to her as a pet.”
“As you wish. The massive thing lumbers away. “But the baron will not want to be kept waiting.”