Chapter 5
We land at the space port without having spoken with each other.
Johar steers the aircraft smoothly into one of the landing boxes and we put control behind us without a problem, thanks to the forged papers the cyborg shows to the Betanian official. The cyborg gives one of the waiting porters some money and tells him to take our things to our accommodations. I want to stop and ask him a bunch of questions: Why didn’t he tell me that we already have a hotel, and who packed my things? But he pulls me forward without any consideration, until we have left the grounds of the airport, where he waves for a taxi. The “taxi” is a slimy, stinking imitation of a vehicle, and is pulled by two animals that look somewhat like horses – but they are bigger and much more muscular that anything I have ever seen in the natural history museum. Their eyes show an unreal intelligence that doesn’t really fit an animal.
While we are being taken to our hotel, I get my final instructions, from Johar, concerning my role. I shouldn’t talk too much, better yet, not at all, and should be content with looking good and smiling secretively. “I imagine this won’t be easy for you,” he begins, and this time, I am the one to raise my eyebrows.
“What? You mean the part about looking good?” I taunt him. I am surprised at myself. A loosey-goosey remark like that is completely out of character for me. Is it possible that freedom is going to my head? Or is my character trying to match what I am wearing?
“Actually, I meant the part about not talking a lot,” he responds. It takes me a few seconds to realize that he has made an awkward joke. That is the first sign of insecurity I have seen in him. A wave of excitement and courage grips me, while all around us, the neighborhood is getting more and more dubious. The houses that were a bright white near the airport are getting dirtier and dirtier, just like the streets. The streets were paved before; but now, there are more and more potholes which our driver avoids smoothly. I have lost all feeling for time, and don’t know how long we have been underway, but the further we go into the city, the more mixed the alien races we see. Colorful, big, small, human-like and completely strange looking creatures are mixed together into a view of the whole universe. The smells change, too. Exotic spices, cooking aromas and waste water all combine to create an odor that makes me slightly nauseous.
We stop in front of a crooked, brown house. A sign that used to be legible is hanging in front of the door. The only recognizable things on it are the remains of a space ship and a few animals that are going on land in pairs. Noah’s ark? I must have said that out loud, because he shakes his head as he helps me from the cart. His hands go around my waist, and once again, his fingers briefly brush my naked skin. I let it happen without saying anything, since this is part of my role. “The inhabitants of this planet have a soul companion from birth onwards, which manifests itself as an animal,” he explains quietly. “It probably has something to do with the animal genes that were implanted in them. They are already in their second generation here, but their children have the companions, too.” Why didn’t my father tell me anything about this? There was nothing in the file about this unusual characteristic of the Betanians. I wonder what else he hasn’t told me. Do these soul animals present a danger to us? I ask the cyborg about it and he gives me an unhappy smile. “You should definitely be careful,” he tells me. “When a Betanian is furious, his animal is, too. They reflect the exact mood of their owners.” He looks out and says that we can talk more about it later. “We are almost there and don’t want to forget our disguises.”
Johar puts a hand around my waist, and tells our driver to take our luggage into the shabby inn. He throws him a shiny coin, which the man catches easily, and puts away with a grin. Inside, I say good-bye to the thought of spending the night in a clean bed, and throw my arms around my cyborg. With a smile that forces the corners of my mouth to its limits, I reach into his hair and pull his head down to mine, until his ear is at the same level as my ear. “You couldn’t have found a better place to spend the night?”
He smiles back, just as fake as I do, but much more convincing. “Disguise,” he whispers back and takes my hands out of his hair. I almost regret this, because it is so soft, and smells good, covering up the smell that is all around us here. A woman waddles over to us, wiping her hands on an apron, before holding out her hand to Johar. She gives me only a cursory glance before writing me off as unimportant, and giving all of her attention to the man who has the say here. I take the opportunity to look at the place more closely, and to watch the woman. Despite her weight, she is quick on her feet. When she snaps her finger, a thin little man appears out of nowhere. He is accompanied by a bear, and I have to keep myself from retreating in fear. The man and the bear are a strange pair, but obviously nobody here takes any notice of the soul animals, so I do the same thing – but not without giving the dancing bear a last suspicious look, before we follow the man up the steps.
Our room is a real surprise. It is relatively big and clean, and even has its own bathroom. The double bed, with a romantic canopy of fine muslin, is a shock, however. I look around, a little panicked, but it is the only bed in the room. It was only theoretic knowledge before, but now, my brain translates it to reality. The cyborg and I will be sleeping in one bed. The little man sets our luggage down while Johar tests the mattress with a lewd grin. I can tell I am blushing as he pats the spot next to him invitingly with his hand. I go over to him, lie down next to him and hiss in his ear furiously that he shouldn’t overdo it. The slow grin he gives me is well-suited for making me even angrier.
When we are finally alone, the smile disappears from his face. “You really need to try harder,” he reproaches me. “Otherwise I will send you back immediately. I will not allow you to cause the mission to fail.”
This is the straw that breaks the camel’s back. I jump up and push him in the chest. It feels like trying to push a boulder. He doesn’t move at all. “Don’t overdo it, half-human,” I say softly, even though I want to scream. I learned from my father that soft threats are much more effective than loud yelling. The cyborg grabs my wrist and pulls me down to him, until I am lying right on top of him. I refuse to do him the favor of flailing around and trying to defend myself. Instead, I am as stiff as a board. “If you think you can intimidate me with your physical superiority, you are fooling yourself,” I say, and stare at him directly. He narrows his gray-green eyes, but he doesn’t let go of me.
“And you are fooling yourself, if you think you can make me submissive by insulting me,” he retorts. “If it is so hard for you to play your role, maybe you would be better off in your lab. Did you ever think of that?”
“I am not here by choice,” I remind him.
He lets go of my wrists, and I crawl off of him immediately. It is an extremely undignified move, because the dam skirt layers slide up and wrap around my legs so I almost fall. “So what’s the plan? What are we doing next?”
“We will stay in our room until tonight - actually, you will stay in the room. I will be downstairs in the bar room and will find out where we can find the information we are seeking.” He gets up and ties his hair back with a hair band. This makes his sharp cheek bones and his slightly slanted eyes even more prominent. He urgently needs a shave, because his beard is starting to cover his chin and cheeks. But maybe this is part of the smuggler look he is trying to cultivate. Even the metal plate in his face seems less like an aid and more like something he wanted, like jewelry or a tattoo.
I swallow back my grumbling, even though it’s hard for me. For a split second, I consider just turning the impertinent cyborg off. All of them have an emergency switch which not only turns them off completely, but also makes them still. Their human parts, like the organs they still have, continue working while the cyborg himself is unconscious.
Johar tells me that he will be waiting in the parlor for me at 6 o’clock for dinner, and leaves.
I make good use of the time until our joint dinner. First, I take an extravagant bath, and then I write a detailed report for the record and send it to father. When I look at the clock, it is close to six, so I get changed. The clothes that Johar packed for me are not very different, except for the colors. He seems to have a preference for bright colors, because he packed everything from emerald green and ruby red to a dark violet. I decide on the purple dress, because it at least covers my stomach and hips. I have no idea how cold it will be on this planet tonight. A pair of black slip-ons without straps complete the outfit, and I am ready for our excursion.
It is loud and full in the barroom, but Johar has staked out a table for two and stands up politely as I approach him. Hooting and hollering from the other men follows me to the table, but when Johar gives me a kiss on the mouth, the noise dies down, and the men turn back to their beer jugs or to the waitresses who are scurrying around.
His mouth on mine is soft and his breath smells pleasantly of mint. We are so close that I get nervous and my knees start to shake. I sit down quickly on one of the wobbly chairs, and see that our food has already arrived. I sniff suspiciously at the stew, but it seems to be made primarily of vegetables and something that looks like dumplings. Johar cleans his plate with obvious enjoyment and sips at a yellow, bubbly drink while I am still eating. Just like the room, the food is a pleasant surprise. It tastes pretty good and beats the ready meals on the space ship by a mile.
And then it is time.