Wanting to reach the rendezvous before the maintenance transport arrived, we headed along the perimeter of the shipyard, until Bashrik told us to stop. He’d seen it set down beside a battered signpost, which stood a good distance away from the waystation compound, the actual sign long since rusted away into a gnarled stub. I presumed it was all the way out here to avoid any riffraff getting on board, though the thought irked me a little bit. What right did anyone have to decide who could travel to the other side of the planet and who couldn’t?

I didn’t have long to simmer over the situation, as the chug of a huge, barge-looking vessel thrummed through the faint tink-tink of the shipyard’s mechanics. It was by far the bulkiest ship I’d seen there, with black smoke rising out of several chimneys and a deafening engine that made us all cover our ears as it descended beside the rusted signpost.

As it clanged to a standstill, the interior turbines still whirring to a halt, a thick metal hatch heaved open and a gangway slid to the ground. A small group of mechanics and reclaimers came down first, dressed in overalls and boiler-suits of varying, muddied colors. They laughed amongst themselves, evidently familiar with one another, throwing heavy tool bags over their shoulders as they headed for the shipyard below.

A smaller cluster of well-dressed individuals followed, looking shifty. Their eyes settled on us with suspicion, but they didn’t pause to say anything. Instead, they hurried off after the workmen, clearly hoping to get a good deal on whatever it was they’d come here for.

“Where you wanting to go?” a voice asked from within the shadows of the transport. A moment later, a burly, bearded figure emerged, smoke puffing out of his mouth from a metallic device he held to his lips. He was a similar kind of creature to the old woman who’d been bartering for a part, though his skin was a lurid yellow and his spines were an equally fluorescent shade of green. I guessed, like in nature on Earth, the color scheme meant he was somehow poisonous.

“We were hoping you might take us back to the docking yards. We couldn’t find what we were looking for here,” Navan said confidently.

The spiny man shrugged. “Makes no difference to me. Hop on. Though I’ll warn you now, I don’t take requests. You go where I need to go, and that’s that.”

“That sounds fine to us,” Navan replied, ushering us up the gangway.

“Your sort sit through there,” he instructed, gesturing through a narrow corridor toward a deck at the far end of the barge.

We followed it, entering a surprisingly pleasant room with cushioned benches all around and a table full of refreshments. Most of the food had been eaten by our predecessors, but there was some good stuff left, and a pitcher of ice-cold water to wash it down. I was still full from the weird sandwich I’d eaten, but I knew better than to pass up an opportunity to eat for free. Grabbing some cookie-like bars, I stuffed them into my pockets, before downing a cupful of cool water.

Ten minutes later, with no other passengers boarding, the maintenance transport took off, ferrying us over to the wealthier side of Wander. From the window, I watched the landscape whizz past, homesickness rearing its ugly head again. Glancing down, I could have been looking at the fields of Texas we’d left, what felt like a lifetime ago.

Navan walked up to me, distracting me from the view of the world beyond the transport. Without a word, he slipped his arms around me and pulled me tightly to him, somehow knowing exactly what I needed. I clung to him, gripping him desperately, pushing back the tears that threatened to fall. Holding him like this made me remember that I wasn’t alone out here. Even if it felt like my friend hated me, I still had Navan, showing me that someone cared.

My gaze turned toward Angie, who was nestled into Bashrik’s chest on the bench opposite. I willed her to look at me, telling myself everything between us would be okay if she just looked back, but her eyes were closed.

Just under an hour later, we arrived at the swanky docking yards that Bashrik had spoken about. Gleaming vessels, forged from countless kinds of metal, were tucked into parking bays, their smooth curves reflecting the sunlight, blinding me through the window. Smartly uniformed dockworkers hurried along steel walkways, repairing the expensive-looking ships and bringing luggage to the inhabitants.

The transport driver set us down on a wide platform, where the dock walkways branched off in a crisscrossing network. A group of workmen were waiting to head over to the scrapyards, with a nervous cluster of finely dressed people standing behind them, looking like fish out of water.

As soon as the transport set down, we headed out into the hubbub of Wander’s wealthier side, moving toward the docks. At the far end, down a broad central avenue, elegant glass and chrome buildings rose up, looking sleek and futuristic. Although, I supposed this was the future, at least where humans were concerned.

“Let’s scope out the ships,” Navan said quietly, as we wandered down the central avenue between the docking bays, trying to look nonchalant.

“Mort, can you morph into one of the mechanics?” I asked, coming to a halt beside a vacant-looking vessel. There were no members of staff running around this particular bay, dressed in the smart navy-blue uniforms that marked them out.

The shifter rolled his eyes. “Little old me, coming to the rescue. Again. I should charge per change, for all the damage it’s doing to my poor body.”

“Quit your whining and get on with it!” Bashrik hissed. Evidently, he shared my fears—we were going to start drawing attention to ourselves if we didn’t move quicker.

“Sheesh, what pissed in your blood this morning?” Mort muttered, ducking behind a pillar so he could morph into one of the uniformed staff members. Emerging casually, he brushed down the front of his suit jacket and raised an amused eyebrow. “Now you have me, what do you want with me?”

I tilted my head toward the control panel on the ship’s door. “Knock and see if anyone’s home. If they aren’t, see what we’re going to need to break in.”

He sauntered toward the vessel, which Bashrik informed me was a streamlined leisure cruiser. We chatted amongst ourselves, pretending to be looking at something nearby. I kept one eye on Mort, realizing we were going to have to sprint after him if he managed to get into the ship. There was no way he was stealing a cruiser and getting out of here without the rest of us.

He came back a minute later, pulling a face. “It’s like a nun’s chastity belt up there—nobody’s getting in without a miracle.”

I shot him a disgusted look. “Keep it clean, Mort. What did you find?”

“Well, there’s no one home, but the entry system is maximum security,” he explained, pleased with himself. “That one needed a handprint and a retinal scan to get in. I imagine most of these ships will be the same. People don’t pay top dollar for things without a little insurance, you know?”

He was right; there was a good reason only a few guards were patrolling, and a couple of cameras were dotted about. These ships had enough security to take care of themselves.

A large group of laughing aliens brushed past us, dressed to the nines in sharp suits and elegant gowns. They were a mixture of different species and seemed to have come from one of the largest leisure cruisers. I watched them closely, wanting to know where they were headed. They sauntered down the avenue as if they owned the place, talking in obnoxiously loud voices about the best bar in the universe—the Galactis Club.

“Are you wearing that, darling?” a violet-skinned female asked another.

She cackled, clutching her diamond-encrusted chest. “Of course not, sweetie. I have a change in my purse. I wouldn’t be seen dead wearing these old rags in the Galactis!”

“My thoughts exactly, darling, my thoughts exactly!” the first woman shrieked, though they were both wearing two of the most stunning gowns I’d ever seen, dripping in jewels and made from an elegant, gauzy fabric that flattered their every alien curve.

“Now, you’ll be sensible, won’t you?” a blue-skinned male with a shock of silver hair asked. “We’re only stopping here to refuel, so I don’t want the pair of you getting all silly and drunk. Do I make myself clear?”

They both looked at him with saccharine smiles. “Of course not, Papa! We shall be the epitome of grace and restraint,” the first one said, before collapsing in a fit of giggles, her sister cackling along with her.

“Follow me,” I said, hurrying discreetly after the group of obnoxious aliens.

We reached an elaborately sculpted piazza at the far end of the central avenue. Rows of blossom-laden trees expelled clouds of heavily perfumed petals, and pools of water intertwined with quaint bridges and stepping stones. I pulled the others to one side. From the shadows, I watched the staircase that led up to the left of where we hid. It was carved from a marble-like stone, shot through with bands of gold and silver, and half the group of wealthy aliens were heading up it.

“We’ll be along in a moment, Papa! We just need to change first!” one of the giddy girls announced, taking her sister’s hand and pulling her into the lobby of a nearby building. Through the glass, I watched them remove small boxes from their bags and head into what looked like a changing area, where several people were milling about, before emerging moments later with entirely new outfits.

Two men were coming down the staircase, distracting me from the sight of the girls. They appeared to be the same species as Xiphio, but they definitely weren’t Fed agents—not unless they were off duty, anyway. Both were dressed in smart suits, their patterned chests exposed between the lapels, where a shirt probably should have been. The older of the two had conch-shaped ears, similar to Xiphio’s, while the other’s were shaped more like clams.

“Forget about her, Killick. Those chicks are nothing but trouble,” the older one said.

“Yeah, but she said she liked me!” the younger, Killick, lamented.

The older one smiled. “You can’t trust any of the females in this joint. It’s crawling with gold-diggers. That chick didn’t want you—she just wanted the contents of your cruiser,” he explained. “Honestly, they schmooze you to get on your ship, and then they rob you blind!”

An idea popped into my head as the fish-boys walked past us. Turning to the others, who still had no idea why I’d brought them here, I flashed a mischievous grin.

“I don’t think I’m going to like that look, am I?” Navan asked, sighing.

“When it bags us a ship, you will!”

Bashrik frowned. “What’ve you got in mind?”

“Actually, we have those fish-boys to thank for this,” I said excitedly.

“Merevins,” Ronad corrected. “They’re called merevins.”

“Right, well, those merevins were talking about ladies up there, in that bar, who schmooze with guys and get into their ships,” I began.

Mort grinned. “I think there’s a word for that.”

“Anyway, I thought we could do the same thing. Angie or I can seduce one of the wealthy guys in the Galactis Club and get them to bring us back to their ship,” I continued, ignoring Mort’s remark.

Angie pulled a face. “That sounds gross.”

“It might be our only way of getting on board without bringing more police after us,” I fired back, forcing down my rising temper. If it had come from anyone else, I knew she wouldn’t have immediately rejected the idea. It was just tainted because it came from me, and she blamed me for losing the Coeptis and not being able to find Lauren with the compass.

“Well, I can’t think of anything right now, but—”

I cut her off. “If you don’t want to do it, that’s not a problem. I’ll just do it myself.”

Navan shook his head. “Whoa, Riley, slow down here. I don’t think this is a good idea at all,” he said warily. “There are too many factors we can’t control. What if something happens to you, but we can’t get on board to help?”

“We don’t have many other options, Navan,” I said softly, taking his hand. “The only other thing we can do is fight our way onto one of the ships and then fight our way out of the docks, with a load of cops on our tail. Now, tell me, which one is the better idea?”

“Fighting our way out,” he muttered wryly.

“Hey, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again,” Mort chimed in. “I’m happy to dress in drag and do whatever needs to be done.”

I laughed, pleased to see a smile on Navan’s face, too. “Thanks, Mort, but I can’t see you being a subtle flirt,” I replied. It wasn’t that I doubted his shifter abilities—it was his personality that was the problem. In all honesty, I didn’t trust Mort not to get kicked out of the place with his over-the-top comments. “Look, this way nobody gets hurt. I’m tired of violence, and this is as good an option as any.”

“What do we do with the guy?” Ronad wondered.

I shrugged. “If we steal a ship with the rich guy still on it, then we can just drop him off on some other planet.”

“And trackers?” Bashrik added, layering the negativity on thick.

“When we drop the guy off, we can remove any tracking devices and escape before he manages to call the authorities,” I reasoned, wishing someone other than Mort would be on my side.

Mort clapped his disguised hands together. “Hey, we can iron out the details later. It’s not exactly complicated, so let’s not rain on Riley’s parade here,” he said. “I think it’s a great plan. I love a con as much as the next shifter.”

Ronad nodded. “I guess nobody gets physically hurt, and it’ll mean we don’t have to worry about the Fed coming straight after us. Cruisers are quick. We’ll be out of the local area in no time.”

“I suggest you go for a fish-boy, though,” Mort insisted. “Merevins are clingier than a leech you took on a date once and never called back. They’re hopeless romantics, and I mean hopeless. One stole a girlfriend from me once, the slippery bastard—he went in guns blazing. I think there was even poetry.” He shuddered, making a face.

I frowned. “How did you end up crossing paths with a merevin?”

“Those fishy lotharios live on the neighboring planet to my home world. I’m from Mallarot; they’re from Almaghura. I’m from a planet covered in boredom and females as ugly as my armpit; they’re from a planet covered in water and scantily clad fish-ladies,” he explained. “Let’s just say we have to go elsewhere if we want something nice to wake up to.”

“I thought you all could turn into whatever you liked,” Angie said.

“We can, but we don’t see what you see. Even if a shifter morphed into someone like you, I’d still see a shifter. Fleshy pools and all.” He shuddered for dramatic effect.

“That’s incredibly shallow, Mort!” I chided. “And, anyway, I thought interspecies relationships were frowned upon.”

He shook his head. “It’s not so much of a problem in other parts of the universe. Vysantheans are just prudes. For the rest of us, it’s any port in a storm, if you catch my drift.”

“Dude, that’s gross!” Ronad said, shoving the shifter in the arm so I didn’t have to.

“Hey, don’t knock it till you’ve tried it.” Mort chuckled, making a crude gesture that got him another hard shove, this time from Navan. “See, what did I tell you? A bunch of prudes, these bloodsuckers!”

Realizing we needed to get a move on, I glanced back toward the glass foyer where the alien girls had gone to change their clothes. If I was going to get into the Galactis Club, I needed to look the part. Military fatigues and a loose braid weren’t exactly going to get me a wealthy man of leisure.

“We need to make it seem like the invitation back to the ship is the guy’s idea so he doesn’t suspect anything,” I mused, watching the people coming in and out of the bar, trying to scope out a good target. “So, I just need to get a guy to show me his ship.”

“Atta girl!” Mort whooped, making my cheeks flush.

“You know what I mean,” I muttered, looking at Navan’s furious face. I could see he wanted to knock Mort’s head off. “You all wait here. I’m going to get myself something to wear.”

I was about to move toward the glass foyer when I saw Bashrik nudge Angie in the arm. She shot him a tense look, shaking her head sharply, but he nodded at me in response. It appeared the two of them were having an entirely silent argument—the kind only couples could have. Right now, it wasn’t clear who was winning.

“Why don’t you go with her, Ange?” Bashrik said pointedly, drawing everyone’s attention toward them. Now, there was no way she could refuse. “It doesn’t seem fair to let her go on her own.”

Angie glared at him. “Fine, I’ll go, but I’m not doing the con.”

“Glad to have you on board,” I said brightly, before moving off. I watched her fire death stares back at Bashrik over her shoulder, but the battle had been fought and he had come out the victor.

Together, we strode through the large double doors, into the glass foyer. At the back of the room, there were several other doors, manned by uniformed ladies. Alien women were walking in and out, entering in one outfit and exiting in another. Steeling myself, I wandered toward the central door and pushed through into the room beyond. The uniformed staff gave us both a little bow as we passed, evidently thinking nothing of our presence here.

A powder room lay on the other side, but the juxtaposition was astonishing. Where the outer foyer was clinical glass and metal, this room was elegant and refined, with marble pillars and statues, the whole place fashioned like an old-timey theater’s lounge. Females of all species primped and preened in front of vast mirrors, applying makeup from devices on the vanities, evidently for the use of anyone who came in.

Nobody paid us any attention as we entered, but I knew they soon would. Grabbing Angie’s hand, I pulled her into one of the changing rooms that lined the nearside wall. If we wanted to steal some clothes, we’d have to be patient.

“Whatever will you do with your gown, Marguerite?” a woman asked from one of the neighboring cubicles.

“Goodness, Ganymede, I am simply going to toss it. I have worn it now. Whyever would I wear it again?” a second woman replied, from the other side.

“Quite right, my dear. I thought I might do the same. The fabric is never the same once it’s been worn, is it?”

“Precisely. Where are you off to after this, anyway?” the one named Ganymede asked.

“Kefir and I thought we might indulge in a vacation on the shores of Vitande.”

“Vysanthe?” Ganymede gasped.

Marguerite laughed shrilly. “Goodness no, Ganymede! I said Vitande. It’s one of the smaller moons of Phnossos. Imagine it… a vacation to Vysanthe!” She howled with laughter. “I make it a point to never fly within a solar system of that vile place. They have no class, no fashion, no respect for anyone other than themselves.”

“I do enjoy opaleine jewelry, though,” Ganymede lamented.

“Indeed, we all do, my dear, but opaleine does not come from there. It is simply exported from their pilfered supply!” she retorted in a stage whisper.

“No!”

“Yes!”

“How positively vulgar!”

“Well, they are vulgar, aren’t they?” Marguerite remarked. “Those queens are a law unto themselves! Last I heard, one sister had all but eviscerated the other one, but needed more soldiers to deal the final blow—cities crushed, citizens dead, and they have the cheek to ask for allies!”

“Well, I hope they destroy themselves,” Ganymede agreed. “Imagine dragging the rest of us into their petty squabbles!” A snort echoed from her cubicle.

“With any luck, the planet will simply give up and blow itself to smithereens,” Marguerite added, cackling.

“Are you ready to go, Gany old pal?”

“When you are, Marg!”

I heard the cubicle doors open and listened for the sound of the ladies walking across the powder room floor, toward the entrance. Ducking down to peer out of the keyhole, I watched them open the far door and head back out into the foyer, giving us the opportunity we needed.

“Come on, it’s time I got dressed up,” I whispered, letting us both out into the now-empty room.

I dove into one of the cubicles, snatching up one of the gowns that had been left behind. There were stilettos, too, which I really hoped would fit. It would only be a matter of time before the uniformed staff came in to remove the dresses and clean around the place, and I wanted us to be out of here before they had the chance to put the pieces together.

The dress I’d picked was a flimsy, floor-length gown made from a thin, silky material that moved like water across my body, changing its shape to fit me. It was an emerald green that complemented the new shade of my hair. I pulled off my boots and switched them for the uncomfortable heels, fastening their magnetic straps and feeling like I might topple over at any moment. Regardless, I dressed quickly, folding up my normal clothes, and undoing my braid as I exited the cubicle with the pile in my arms.

Angie was waiting beside the large mirrors on the opposite wall, brandishing a makeup device. It was similar to the one I’d used before the garden party at Brisha’s palace, but I still wasn’t sure I entirely trusted them. With Angie watching, I lifted the device to my face and let it work its magic. Removing it once the device had beeped, I looked at my reflection in the mirror, seeing a young woman I barely recognized.

“You look good,” Angie said unexpectedly.

“Sexy enough?”

She nodded, smirking. “Oh, yes. You’re going to detach some retinas when you head out there.”

“Speaking of which, we should probably be careful on our way out, in case the staff realize what we’ve done,” I said anxiously, glancing at the door. “I mean, they probably won’t bat an eyelid, but I don’t want to risk it.”

“Leave it to me. I’ll do the distracting!”

She hurried off to the entrance of the powder room. Tucking myself behind the door, I heard Angie’s raised voice.

“I think it’s appalling that I go into a powder room to spruce my face up for my husband, and there is no green shadow! How am I supposed to celebrate my emerald wedding anniversary without an emerald eyeshadow?” she bellowed. I heard the staff member try to protest, but she was on a roll. “No, it simply isn’t good enough! I demand you find me some emerald shadow immediately. I can’t even begin to select my outfit before I have the right face on!”

Seizing the moment while she was mid-rant, I slipped out of the entrance and walked toward the glass doors, keeping my gaze dead ahead. With Angie continuing to rant and rave, nobody was looking at me as I walked through the foyer.

“Of course, miss,” I heard the staff member mumble behind me.

“Oh, forget it! I shall use the device on my ship!” Angie said, and soon her footsteps sounded on the floor behind me.

We waited until we were far enough away from the doors before hunching over with relieved laughter. I was amazed that we’d managed to get out without causing any suspicion. They certainly wouldn’t forget Angie in a hurry, but not for any theft reasons.

“Nice work,” I commended her.

“Nice dress,” she fired back, grinning. “Here, give me those clothes. We don’t want them ruining the look.”

“Lauren would be so proud of us, figuring things out without her,” I joked. Angie’s face instantly fell, and I wished I could take the words back.

“She’d tell you off for ruining your ankles in those heels,” she murmured. “God, I really miss her.” It was a step in the right direction, toward us patching things up, and I knew we both needed to apologize for being so curt with each other lately. But the moment came and went, and neither of us said a word.

Regret gripped my chest, but I could only deal with one thing at a time. Right now, I needed to be someone else. The role of irresistible seductress loomed over me, and it had to be the greatest performance of my life. Our future rested on it.