Tempted by Celestial Bodies

Chapter 1

chapter one

The dust storms of Rojab One, notorious for killing tourists, had almost claimed me as a victim.

“It’s an event of a century, they said,” I muttered, shoving my hands deeper into the pockets of my cargo pants while I walked, shoulders hunched. Tourists of all shapes and sizes, all colors and species, including humans, packed the winding cobble-lined sidewalk, taking advantage of Carlow City’s entertainment district.

“You won’t want to miss it, they said.” Gritting my teeth, I tried to appreciate my surroundings since I’d only been here for a few days and never this far down Prime Street.

Street carts sizzled with confections while individuals waited in long lines for tubers on a stick; fried scents washed over everything. Orange lamps graced the street in regular intervals, creating orbs of light at my feet. Darkness shrouded the city almost constantly except for part of the year, when the planet tilted and the horizon glowed to signal “day.” For a woman used to four seasons and a twenty-four-hour clock, the constant night had done a number on my head. Colorful illumination adorned every structure, highlighting windows, doorways, and architectural marvels. In some ways, the aesthetic reminded me of the Christmas village my grandmother used to set up in her living room every winter back on Earth.

“It’ll be fun , they said.” The safari had been about as fun as getting sandblasted by a herd of dust sharks on the hottest day of the year.

Oh, wait. That was exactly what had happened.

And it was all Jordan’s fault. The fucker.

My stomach squeezed uncomfortably like every time I thought of him. “Forget about him, Monroe,” I told myself, a sentence I’d spoken aloud more than once. Hard to do when he’d put me in this mess.

Ignoring the nausea conjured by thoughts of him, I pressed my hand to my overly exfoliated cheek, then ran a chafed palm over my hair. Grit and dust particles stuck to my skin despite having showered three times already. It was a wonder I had any flesh left after the damn sandstorm. I didn’t have time to go shower again at the hostel, not if I planned on catching a transport in the morning. I needed money, and I needed it yesterday.

Up ahead, a neon blue sign flashed above the sidewalk, an arrow pointing left with the words Glow Road beneath it. The audio translators we’d been given when we started this tour didn’t work for signs, but Rojab One catered to tourists. Their technology translated signs too. I had no idea how it worked, but it was seriously cool.

A gust of hot wind lifted the ends of my hair but did nothing to remove the sweat on my nape. For the millionth time I considered shaving my head, but knew I’d miss my long, brown waves once returning home. Another gust pressed against me and I flapped the front of my tank top in an attempt to dry the perspiration collecting under my ample boobs. Hot climates and I never seemed to get along.

I slowed my pace, then stopped under the sign, staring down the narrow street. It wasn’t as well-lit as the main tourist drags, the shadows deepening. Trash gathered in the places wind couldn’t sweep it away. The road cleaners must not turn down this side lane. Instead of cobblestones, black pavement curved away from me, then disappeared out of sight between buildings as the street twisted and narrowed further. Non-humans walked in and out of shops, but only a fraction of the crowd as strolled behind me.

Heinrick’s words from last night echoed through my head. The old human backpacker had seen and done everything, but claimed the Rojab System always enticed him to return for one reason or another.

My first stroke of luck since arriving in this system came when we discovered we hailed from the same continent on Earth and he remarked I reminded him of someone he used to know. I’d shared my sob story over two pints of this world’s cheapest lager.

“You’ll get your money from Khor Drath,” Heinrick said with a nod. “You give him one night and you’ll have enough cash to take ten interstellar tours.”

I almost spit my beer across the bar top. “You’re delusional if you think I’m going to sleep with someone for money.”

Heinrick cackled, slapping the counter. “Not sleep with him, Monroe. Sleep for him. He doesn’t even touch you, girl.” He glanced over his shoulder, scanning the room, then leaned into me, voice lowered. “He’s a dream broker and will siphon your dreams.”

A shiver of unease cascaded down my spine. “Siphon?”

“It’s not what you would call common knowledge,” he said, his volume only above a whisper—disconcerting because he’d been a boisterous soul ever since I’d arrived on Rojab One. “Most tourists don’t ever learn of the thing Rojabians really want from us.” He shrugged and took another swig, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Fuck, I’d go sell my sweet dreams to Khor Drath right now if the big bastard wasn’t sick of me and my fantasies.” He scratched his stubbly chin. “Tell him I sent you and maybe he’ll give me a cut. That would be nice.”

The rest of the conversation was fuzzy, but I did remember one last thing Heinrick said: He might be scary as fuck, but he wouldn’t lay a hand on you. The epitome of a businessman, eh?

With the blue sign flashing over my head, I glanced over my shoulder to squint at the brightness of Prime Street. It appeared unnatural after staring down the subtle shadows of Glow Road for so long. Families and couples from across a dozen systems enjoyed the open hospitality of Rojarians with laughter and chatter. My chest ached.

Because I was alone.

And abandoned.

I took a deep breath and stepped onto black pavement. I’d officially entered the blue light district.