Elena

Planet Kosmora 0938

The Dune Colony

Outside of the Embassy, the rest of the colony of Dune is located at the bottom of the silent mountain range, Tirianae. The buildings look majestic and though many of them seem to be made from some of the same materials our buildings at home are, it still looks more gothic and otherworldly than anything you’d find on Earth.

With the ironwood rooftops, blackwood walls and looming mountain range in the background, the village is an unexpectedly beautiful sight. Dark but beautiful in its own way. There’s a cool breeze blowing through the window of my small room making the decorative curtain billow around me. The noise coming from the tavern not far into the village has piqued my curiosity. I’m leaning out the window trying to get a look at what’s going on over there, but there are too many buildings in my way. There’s a lull in the noise and then all of a sudden, a roar of laughter and cheering can be heard rising up through the night.

I’m hiding out in my room right now, trying to decide what my next steps should be. Just as I thought, there’s more to the treaty than most of us were lead to believe. My problem now is that I can’t decipher some of the codes and it isn’t something that I can just go ask someone to help me with. As much as I wish I could just hop on-line and search for what I want to find, it doesn’t work that way here. But something isn’t sitting right with me. I know there’s more to the story and it’s my job to figure it out.

All of this uncertainty is sitting like a rock in my stomach, making it impossible for me to sit still. A walk through the night’s fresh air sounds appealing when another blast of laughter and cheering explodes into the night. It sounds like the perfect place to venture to that might just help clear my mind. And who knows, maybe I can befriend one of the locals in order to get some much-needed information.

I manage to move through the building without running into anyone from my group. There are plenty of security guards and other important government officials milling about, but they don’t pay any attention to me. The only time I need to stop to talk to someone is when I finally reach the Embassy gates. There’s a guard stationed there that walks toward me as soon as I approach.

“Ma’am,” he says, nodding his head. He’s holding a device that looks like a smartphone and immediately reaches out with it.

“Hello.” I glance up at him while extending my left hand. He scans the band that I’m wearing. That everyone wears. I haven’t decided yet if it’s to keep track of our movements or if it’s just a safety precaution in case one of us would go missing. We all have an identification number while we’re on the planet and when any of us move out of the Embassy the guards are required to scan it.

“You’re all set.” The guard steps aside and the gate slowly begins to open. “Would you like a guard to accompany you?” he asks. I’m surprised by his suggestion. I assumed the village would be safe but this is the first time I’ve left the Embassy on my own. I’ve never had the feeling that I’m unsafe but it is possible that they are very good at creating the illusion of safety. Regardless, I don’t need a babysitter.

“No, thank you,” I say as I step through the gates.

I’ve only gone a few steps when he says, “If you would like a guard to escort you home, all you need to do is press the button on your wristband.”

I stop and look down at my wrist. “Okay,” I say, impressed with this level of technology. I give him a simple wave and head down the street.

It isn’t late enough for the village to be deserted. There are plenty of the Suthune milling about through the streets even though the sun set long ago. My way is well lit from motion activated lights lining the streets with flat panels that look like solar panels. The Embassy is located next to what we would consider the “downtown” area of Dune Colony. There aren’t a lot of homes here, it is more small shops and taverns. More places looking like they’re for business and patronage. I follow the sounds of laughter and noise until I’m standing outside of a large, heavily populated tavern. It’s by far the largest tavern in the area and it looks to be the most popular.

Standing in front of the doors, it is at least two to three floors tall. Not what I expected when I was imagining what it must look like from up in my room at the Embassy. I hesitate at the door but within seconds it bangs open and a small group of Suthune men come tumbling out. Before they can run over me, I step to the side and then slip through the door.

Inside it is just as loud as I thought it would be. The Suthune are sitting at the long bar and occupying most tables throughout the establishment as well. I take it all in for a moment and realize that it’s a complete sausage fest in here. Nothing but men as far as I can see. They’re loud and jovial from their night of drinking and companionship. Realizing that I’m staring, I force myself to move through the tables and head toward the bar. It isn’t until I’m standing there that I realize that I don’t have any idea what to order for a drink. On Earth it would be a nice crisp glass of white wine, something more sweet than dry. But something tells me I won’t get that here.

“What can I get for you, stranger?” The bartender stands in front of me, expectant and impatient. It’s busy and he doesn’t have time to waste waiting on me. I look at the men next to me. The one closest to me meets my stare and smiles.

“Is that any good?” I ask him, pointing to the drink in his hand.

He raises it in response, nods and takes a long gulp. “Good for knocking you on your ass,” he says, laughing loudly with the other men at the counter.

Assuming that he means it is strong, I look at the bartender and say, “I guess I’ll have what he’s having.” I point to the guy next to me. The bartender nods and grabs a mug from behind the counter. He fills it with some sort of brew from a keg or barrel that sits on the floor. The brown liquid fizzes to the top, sending streams of liquid down the side. Once he sets it in front of me he grabs a device that looks very similar to the one the guard used to scan my wrist at the gates.

“Your band,” he says, inclining his head toward my wrist.

“Oh, right.” I hold it out again and he scans it.

“You’re all set.” He nods politely and then moves off down the bar to help the next patron.

I examine the drink in front of me for a moment before lifting it carefully to my lips. It smells strange, strong and pungent to my sense of smell, almost like rubbing alcohol. I take a sip, unpleasantly surprised to find it warm. I can feel it travel down my throat and into my stomach, leaving a slight burning sensation behind. My automatic response is to cough and shake my head while crying how horrible it is. But I don’t want to offend anyone so I hold it all in. Nothing but the tears that pool in my eyes show how much my insides burn.

“So good,” I say, trying to smile at the guy next to me at the bar. He raises his glass and laughs again, clearly already well on his way to being knocked on his ass. I mimic his motion but before taking another drink I excuse myself from the bar. It’s crowded enough where there are other men waiting behind me to get at the bar to order another drink. I don’t expect the man behind me to be standing so close and I run straight into his chest, covering him in my drink. “Oh, shit!” I look up into the completely unamused face of the stranger behind me.

The brown liquid covers the front of his worn black leather jacket, dripping down his pants and onto the floor. His unflinching gaze pierces through me and I freeze before stepping back. Normally I would apologize profusely, but I can’t find my voice. His stormy brown eyes lock into me with a hard stare. Not only did I spill my drink on him, but he’s the kind of man that makes you cross to the other side of the street when you see him coming toward you even on the busiest of afternoons. He has a thick brown beard that masks most of his face, making him seem quite mysterious. There’s a small tattoo visible underneath his right eye toward his temple. I want to continue to examine it when I realize that I’ve been staring at him.

“I’m so sorry. Let me get something to clean that up.” I turn to walk back to the bartender, eager to get out of his way but before I can, a strong hand grips my arm and pulls me back around. I gasp and have to clutch his arm to steady myself. This close proximity sends shivers down my spine. He scares me but also makes my heart race like mad with the strong bad boy vibe he has going on.

“Don’t bother.” His voice is deep and raspy, more quiet than the other raucous men in here tonight but his presence is much more intimidating. His hand is still gripping my arm tightly even when I try to step back. Unfortunately, there’s nowhere to go. The crowd surges around us, pinning me close to him with no sign of escape. “Drink?” he asks in a way that lets me know it isn’t really a choice.

The last thing I want is another drink. It would certainly help calm my nerves but it tastes like warm piss. Burning my insides kind of warm piss. He keeps me close to him when he steps up to the bar and orders us a drink. A moment later he hands me a mug of something that looks and smells very different from what I spilled all down his front.

“This way,” he says. He leads me into the back of the bar. It isn’t quieter back here, but there are less people. He calmly sits down at a small table by the back windows, pulling a second chair out for me to sit in.

I perch on the edge of the chair, unable to relax. I glance around warily, all the while feeling his gaze on me. When I finally look at him he’s taking a drink but his eyes haven’t left my face. There’s something about the way he looks at me. The butterflies in my stomach take over while I wait for him to speak to me. As the awkward silence grows I lean down and take a sip of my drink. I do it without thinking and I’m about to spit it back into the mug when it rolls over my tongue and I can taste a much sweeter liquid in my mouth. This is something very different from what I ordered the first time. I take another sip, a bigger one, before I set the mug back down on the table, a small smile on my face.

I peek up at this rough looking Suthune male sitting across from me, his eyes never leaving my face. His constant attention makes me want to squirm and fidget. I have no idea what his intentions are but he just might be able to help answer some of my questions. If I can get him to say more than two words at a time, that is. After all, I have a job to do. I keep my finger close to the button on my wrist and lean forward to meet his stare head on.