Chapter Five

 

Nighttime in downtown Donnelle was an otherworldly wonder. The streets, as usual, were packed with crowds of native Ilyrians and aliens from dozens of other worlds.

Street vendors called out in scores of different alien languages, tempting passersby to taste their wares, or try their hand (or tentacle or paw) at a game of chance. New, strange scents mingled in the air, some delicious and some downright weird. A pair of tall aliens that looked like duck-billed dinosaurs gangled past, making honking noises through the crests on their heads. They were either drunk, or came from a planet that had very different gravity. A trail of large pinkish-gray slugs meandered across the square at a glacial pace, glowing softly. Hovercabs zipped overhead, gaining altitude after picking up their fares, their sleek shadows passing across the faces of the twin moons.

Unfortunately, Violet wasn’t in the mood to appreciate it.

She’d hurried back to her living quarters after storming out of the meet-and-greet, and Dorcas had offered to go out to dinner with her, to take her mind off things.

“Which one of those giant hairballs upset you? Because I’m going to tan his furry behind.” Dorcas scowled, waving her cane menacingly. Since she’d arrived on Ilyria a week ago, a walk-in clinic had cured her arthritis and given her perfectly functioning new knees and hips, but she still liked to carry the cane and play the part of “helpless old lady”.

“Nobody. He’s not worth it.” Violet sniffled. She hated that she’d been thinking about the huge, handsome Vulfan for the last twenty-four hours straight. She hated that he hadn’t thought she was his “true mate”, when she’d felt so overwhelmingly attracted the moment she’d laid eyes on him. And she hated how stupid he’d made her feel.

“If he made you cry, he’s getting the cane,” Dorcas insisted. “The pin-headed gollywampus.”

“Good heavens, Dorcas, watch the language,” Violet said, stifling a smile.

“I hate to set a bad example for you, but that giant hairball has me all het up.” Dorcas scowled ferociously as they headed down the sidewalk.

“Violet! Wait!”

Was that Treffon calling her? She scowled. She was in no mood.

“If he’s here, I don’t want to go out to eat. Let’s just go back to the Starcrossed tower,” she said, and they wedged their way through the crowd towards the hovercab stand.

It was a surreal scene. It was like being in New York, except the cabs were silvery, and flew, and the people who were crowded in line waiting for them were aliens with pointy ears or antenna or skin that was every color of the rainbow.

Violet frowned impatiently at the crowd. “Damn it, he’ll get here before we can get a cab. I’m not in the mood to talk to him.” Indeed, Treffon was barreling his way down the sidewalk to get to her, shoving his way through the thickly packed crowds.

Suddenly a hovercab glided towards them and the door slid open. The pilot-bot inside waved its metallic arm at them. Dorcas and Violet hurried towards vehicle.

Before they could get in, a tall, insectoid alien with antennae ran over and leaped in. It had three long, skinny fingers on each hand – and it extended its hand and flipped them off with its middle finger as the door slid shut.

“Huh,” Violet mused. “Apparently that gesture is literally universal. Also, what a dick! Or a bitch – I couldn’t really tell.”

Dorcas scowled at her. “Remind me to wash your mouth out with soap later, young lady.” Then she waved her cane angrily at the departing cab and its rude passenger. “I’ll squash you like a bug!” she shrieked. She paused and frowned. “Wait, was that speciesist?”

Before Violet could answer, the cab, now a block away, exploded in a shower of metal shards and sparks. People screamed and ran as hot metal rained down on them.

A jolt of fear shot through Violet.

“Oh my God. That hovercab was meant for us. Someone sent the cab for us and tried to lure us in. Whoever is trying to kill me…they’ve followed me here.”

Dorcas’ eyes widened in alarm. “We’ve got to get you out of here! Make way, make way!” She began slashing viciously with her cane, dragging Violet down the sidewalk, away from the explosion.

They ran around the corner. A hoverbus was parked in front of a hotel, and the door was open. Several people were climbing in. Violet and Dorcas quickly crowded onto the bus with them and plopped into empty seats behind the driver, who appeared to be Vulfan. Webbing shot out and wrapped around their waists, securing them.

The bus rose into the sky. Below them, they could see red and yellow flames, sparks, and a black cloud of smoke rising from the hovercab’s wreckage. Saucer-shaped emergency vehicles with green flashing lights were gliding towards the site of the explosion.

What to do, what to do?

Could Violet be sure the attack had been meant for her? It really had seemed as if the cab had specifically singled her out. Then again, maybe the attack had been meant for the green insectoid – he or she had been such a jerk, it was entirely possible that the creature had made enemies. And Donnelle was a trading port for numerous planets, which meant that all kinds of intrigue and shady business dealings took place.

She should report what little she knew about the attack, though – although she wasn’t sure who to report it to. She could start by telling someone at Starcrossed, she decided. Probably Zura. Zura was the captain of a security squad – she’d know what to do.

“Um, we’d like to stop off at the Starcrossed tower,” Violet called out to the driver.

“The Starcrossed tower? You got on the wrong bus, lady,” the driver yelled back. “This is a bus for volunteers heading to the resettlement center.”

“But… Oh, fine.” Violet settled back in her seat. “When we get there, we’ll call Starcrossed and ask them to pick us up,” she said to Dorcas, tapping her comm bracelet. It was sort of like a super-advanced smartphone. She could tap it and tell it to call Zura, or Starcrossed headquarters, or Dorcas, who also wore a comm bracelet.

She had an odd, completely irrational urge to call Treffon. Being near him made her feel perfectly safe and somehow…at ease. But that was just her nerves working on her, she knew; he had already made it clear that she didn’t mean anything to him. Not only that, if he was at the Starcrossed party, he was probably just on the prowl for some nookie. She knew that some Vulfans did that, either because they despaired of meeting their true mates, or they were passing the time until the right woman came along.

The hoverbus sliced through the dark night, soaring over the moonlit landscape. The city of Donnelle faded into the distance as they flew over forests of strange, spiral-shaped trees.

“I’m going to give them a piece of my mind, that’s for sure,” Dorcas muttered indignantly. “Lousy service, exploding taxis... I’m going to give them a zero-stars review, that’s what I’ll do. That’ll show them. What’s the Ilyrian version of Twelp?”

Violet gave her aunt a sidelong look. “Do you mean Yelp, or do you mean Twitter?”

“Whatever. I’m complaining to both of them. I’ll Twit them like they’ve never been Twitted before. Then I’ll Yelp so loud their ears will bleed.”

“I’m sure you will,” Violet said, rolling her eyes. She didn’t bother to ask who, specifically, Dorcas was going to complain about, because that would just subject her to another barrage of technologically illiterate griping.

Dorcas kept mumbling rebelliously for the entire half-hour trip, while Violet leaned back in her seat and tried to enjoy the view. It was hard to do when she was alternating between worrying about her stalker and burning with mortification at how Treffon had humiliated her.

* * * * *

The resettlement center was a scene of barely contained chaos. There was a long, ugly rectangular building that had been set down smack in a clearing in the middle of the forest. There were rows of white-domed tents set among towering trees. Aliens from half a dozen species milled about or gathered in clusters, and they did not appear happy. There were shrill alien laments piercing the night air, and people pushing and shoving each other.

There didn’t appear to be enough guards to deal with them all. She only spotted six of them, walking around chatting with each other and mostly ignoring the aliens. The guards were made up from several different humanoid races, and they all wore the same uniform – black and silver, with an insignia of the Milky Way galaxy on their chests.

Each time the arguments got to the point of actual fighting, several guards rushed forward, jabbing with metal sticks that sent up showers of white sparks, and the aliens screamed in pain and scattered.

The guards were members of the Galactic Federation’s Peacemakers; Violet had learned that in orientation.

The volunteers all headed to the rectangular building. Violet stood there trying to decide what to do next. The bus was already leaving, rising high into the night sky.

She couldn’t help feeling badly for the aliens.

“Dorcas, we should tell the people at Starcrossed what a mess it is here. Maybe they could— Dorcas?”

Frantic, she looked around. She’d liked it better when her great-aunt had needed her cane to walk; she’d been easier to keep track of. A mobile Dorcas was a dangerous Dorcas.

Dorcas was bearing down on a tall, horned alien who had just snatched a piece of fruit from a short, squat, troll-like creature.

Dorcas whacked the alien’s hand hard with her cane, making him drop the fruit. Violet froze – the alien was literally twice Dorcas’ height – but he just made a spitting noise at her, then turned and ran. The troll-creature grabbed the fruit and scampered off.

Violet waved one of the guards over. “Excuse me, that – that creature stole food from one of the other aliens!” she said, pointing. “He should be arrested.”

“Detention hut is full,” the guard grunted. He had silver scales and marble-black eyes with no whites. His teeth were disturbingly pointy.

“Well, that doesn’t sound good.” She looked around. “Why aren’t there more guards here?”

He gave a hiss of annoyance, scowling at the various aliens scampering around. “These are all members of less advanced species. None of them are our trading partners. Not our top priority. We’re here to keep them rounded up in one spot so they don’t make any trouble, until we can send them back home.” He hissed again. “If they have homes to return to. The cyborgs have targeted their solar system.”

She started to ask him another question, but he walked off, looking bored.

She looked around for Dorcas, who had wandered off again and was about to whack an insectoid with her cane.

“Oh no you don’t!” She grabbed Dorcas’ arm and led her away. “We’re going to get Starcrossed to come pick us up, and we’ll tell them about the situation here. Quit trying to make everyone behave. Sooner or later you’re going to whack the wrong alien, and it’s going to eat you.”

“I’d like to see them try.” Dorcas glared at the insectoid. Its antennae drooped and it hurried off. Then she surveyed the whole area, hands on hips. “Doesn’t look like anybody here plays cards,” she complained.

“They’re all homeless and poor, so you’d feel bad about fleecing them anyway.”

Dorcas sighed. “True, true. I like fleecing rich people.”

Violet firmly pressed on the blue button on her Comm. Normally it made a little answering pulse sound; this time it was silent.

“Call Zura from the Thorolf Pack,” she said, feeling a stab of alarm.

Nothing happened.

“Call Madok from the Thorolf Pack. Call…call Lukan from the Wor-Lan Pack.” Lukan was the Reginar of the Wor-Lans, and also another owner of Starcrossed.

Nothing happened.

“Call Treffon from the Thorolf pack,” she said desperately, and stabbed at the button with her finger again and again.

Dorcas tried the same with her comm bracelet, with the same results.

Violet hurried back over to the silver-scaled guard. “I’m trying to use my communicator and it won’t work. I need to make a call,” she said.

“There’s a dampening field here.”

“It’s extremely urgent,” she protested. “How can we get back to Donnelle? When’s the next bus?”

He scowled at her. “That is not going to happen until you have had your identification confirmed and been scanned for viruses.” He glanced at the main building. “Scanning is closed for the evening. Come back in the morning.”

“But…but I came on the volunteer bus!”

He looked at her in annoyance. “I don’t see a volunteer badge.” And he walked away without another word.

Great. They were trapped there overnight with hundreds of surly, barely supervised aliens.

She went to tell Dorcas the bad news – but Dorcas was gone. Again.

“Seriously?” she said in exasperation. Then she heard Dorcas yelling in anger. She followed the sound, pushing her way through thick purple and silver underbrush, into the woods.

She burst through into a clearing – and wished she hadn’t.

There was a cluster of about twenty of the cutest creatures she’d ever seen – knee-high, with short blue fur and enormous black eyes and purple hands and feet. A creature that looked like a miniature dinosaur, perhaps ten feet high, loomed over them. Dorcas had placed herself between the furry creatures and the alien that was menacing them.

Violet ran over, tripped over Dorcas’ cane, and fell flat on her back. “Run!” she screamed to Dorcas. “Take those furry things! Run!”

The creature opened up its mouth to reveal thousands of pointy teeth, and let out a horrifying screech as it plunged its head towards her.