I didn’t see Venan again after I watched him escort the female A’li-uud from the reception. Once he disappeared from sight, I wandered back to my table and sat down again, back to feeling out-of-place. Most of the others who’d been seated there with me had dragged themselves to the dance floor, so I was basically alone, but I didn’t mind. It was a little embarrassing to have been so suddenly abandoned in the middle of a song, and I hoped nobody besides Edie had noticed. I definitely didn’t want to answer any questions about it, especially because I didn’t have any answers. I’d left less than an hour later and returned to my round hut-style house in the colony to go to sleep, glad to be done with the event. That night, I dreamed about Venan.

Three days later, I didn’t know anything more about his mysterious disappearance with the lurking female, and I tried not to dwell on it. It seemed reasonable to write the strange encounter with Venan off as a brief dance with a nice guy and nothing else. Plus, I was back to work in the salon, which should’ve been a great distraction from the nagging wonder in the back of my mind about the Elder and the loitering A’li-uud.

It wasn’t.

The thing about being a hairstylist was that it wasn’t just about styling hair. I was kind of like a bartender in that people told me everything from how their day was going to the latest love-life drama they were going through. Sometimes, usually with the clients I had repeatedly - which were all of them on Albaterra -, conversations even went so deep as politics or religion. My job required me to talk, to listen, to offer advice, to sympathize, all while washing and cutting and styling hair to the client’s preference. It wasn’t an absent-minded career, and, while there had been many an occasion I’d resented the demand for multitasking, I relished it now. It meant there wasn’t time to linger on Venan’s dismissal at the wedding.

Somehow, though, my brain found a way to do just that regardless of what I was doing. As I trimmed split ends and listened to gossip about inter-colony relations, my mind scampered into the forbidden depths of unanswered questions.

“—I heard she said no, but—”

He’d said he’d asked me to dance because he wanted to even though Edie gave him the idea, so why had he just walked away without any real explanation?

“—not my type, you know, but it’s not like I have a whole planet of men to choose from anymore—”

Why hadn’t he come back after a little bit and apologized for leaving so abruptly?

“—because it’s considered inappropriate, but I don’t think it really applies—”

What was the deal with the skulking female A’li-uud, and why had he seemed so unhappy to see her?

I was starting to venture into obsession territory. Men had come and gone from my life many times before, obviously, as I was in my mid-twenties and attractive, and some had even been briefer encounters than that which I’d shared with Venan. Never before, though, had I been so focused on wanting to know why. Maybe it was the mystery of his being an entirely different species than me, or maybe it was because he was an Elder in a position of great power and the most influential guy I’d ever dated had just owned a couple of Dunkin’ Donuts franchises across central Florida. Or maybe it was because it had been over a year since I’d done anything more with a man than grope his hair for a half-hour. Whatever the reason, the result was still the same: I wanted to understand what had happened that left me standing in the middle of dancing couples by myself.

The door to the salon opened just as I was finishing up adding a coif to my last client of the day. I stifled a groan, wanting just to go home instead of taking care of a last-minute walk-in, but the sight of brilliantly blue skin stopped me cold in my tracks. An A’li-uud warrior in brown jodhpurs and boots with a sharp staff strapped to his back stepped in and scanned the scene before him. When his white eyes landed on me, I could almost feel their poignancy.

“Hello,” I said uncertainly. It was the first time an A’li-uud had stepped foot into the salon to my knowledge, and he looked strange amongst the relatively Earth-like surroundings. “Can I help you?”

His hair was waist-length and pearly just like all the other A’li-uud I ever saw, but, as I eyed it, I realized I’d never seen an A’li-uud with short hair. Because of that, it seemed unlikely he was stopping in for a haircut, but I was still going to treat him like a potential client until told otherwise.

“You are Octavia?” he asked in choppy English.

“Yes,” I confirmed, brushing stray hairs from my client’s neck before unsnapping the poncho draped over him and pulling it from his form. He stood and quietly thanked me, which I returned with a smile and a nod of acknowledgment, and he left. Nobody paid in the colony; everyone worked for the sake of supporting the community in its development. I looked back at the A’li-uud and inquired, “Is there something I can do for you?”

He inclined his head, a gesture the aliens used to indicate everything from respect to greeting to approval. “Your presence has been requested at the Elder palace this evening,” he announced.

I paused, the cape dangling from my hand like a drooping flag. “Why?” I asked dumbly.

“Elder Venan would like you to join him for dinner,” he responded. He sounded a little affronted that I would even question the summons, but I was too stunned by his explanation to apologize.

“He would?” I breathed. All of the air seemed to have shot out of my lungs and into the atmosphere, leaving me with no oxygen and a light, tingling brain.

Again, the A’li-uud inclined his head, but there was definite irritation in his expression that I was not offering him a simple acceptance of the request. In my mind, the Albaterran Elders were sort of like presidents, except it was a planet of only twelve countries rather than two-hundred, so my lack of immediate obedience could have easily been interpreted as disrespectful.

“Okay,” I finally said. “I mean, yes, I’ll be there. What time?”

“I will return in an hour to escort you.”

A quick glance in the mirror to my left told me I needed more than an hour to get ready. My hair was a little frizzy from a full day of work and the Dhal’atian heat, and a light sheen of sweat was showing through my foundation. It was clear, though, I wasn’t going to get more than an hour, so I needed to make do with the time I had. “Could you pick me up at my house?” I hopefully queried. “I’d like to change and fix myself up a little before I go, being that it’s the palace and all…”

I was offered a third head-bow, and the A’li-uud departed. There I stood alone in the salon, a poncho in one hand and a brush in the other with sixty minutes and counting to prep myself for dinner with an Elder. I felt like Cinderella being summoned to Prince Charming’s castle, except Cinderella’s hair was smooth and her dress was gorgeous, and she had little animal friends to give her a pep talk. Not to mention it had been she who ran out on Prince Charming in the middle of a dance, not the other way around.

Even when I’d decided to leave Earth and journey to another planet an entire galaxy away, I hadn’t been so nervous.