Tempted by Celestial Bodies

Chapter 5

chapter five

“Told you it was closed for the night, Miss.” The shuttle driver tapped his tentacles against the steering wheel as he pulled up beside Waldorf’s Bio Sanctum. “Why not try again tomorrow? Tours start at ten.”

Vela ran a credit chip over the meter before exiting the cab. The driver lingered a moment more—probably concerned for her sanity—before leaving her to the midnight mists and a discordant din of unseen insects. She waited until his taillights vanished to adjust her visor and approach the fence.

Electric torches flickered along the perimeter, but the buildings beyond were blacker than brachiopod blood. Vela dropped into the sanctum to find a tangle of paved paths, pocked by garish tourist attractions. She kept an eye out for the hazy beam of a flashlight as she followed signs to the Visitor’s Center, but not a single ray pierced the dark. The staff were probably deeper in, patrolling the coral forests, brine bogs, and kelp meadows. An enviable occupation, wages aside.

The Visitor’s Center was more glass than chrome, with windows as numerous and tightly clustered as the compound eyes of a moon moth. A soft fluorescent glow spilled from the third of five stories. Vela readied her stun gun before slinking into the building. No matter how this conversation unfolded, she intended to leave the grounds with her target in tow.

Soon, she found herself in a sparsely-lit food court that reeked of braised kelp and chum. The Wanderling lounged in a hover chair roughly ten feet off, boots propped on a plastic table, arms folded casually behind their head. They still wore their Lacertian form—all bulk muscles and tawny scales. Vela centered a little red dot on their chest. Tranq tags were useless against reptilian races, but there was no sloughing off the effects of a shock ray.

“Would you believe that’s not the rudest greeting I’ve ever received?” The Wanderling chuckled musically, leaning forward to plant their boots on the floor. “This isn’t a trap, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Vela had discerned that much. If the Wanderling wanted to capture or kill her, they’d have already tried it. “What is it, then?”

“Why, an interview, of course!”

Vela didn’t intend to lower her weapon, yet her trigger finger went lax and the gun drifted harmlessly to her side. “An…interview?”

“The last in a series, to be more accurate. The first, at the drinkhouse, gave me a chance to assess your intelligence. The next was a test of intuition. Going to the dealership would have been a brilliant move, had you been dealing with any ordinary reprobate.”

“Let me guess,” Vela sighed the words, “you’re an extra ordinary reprobate.”

They bowed from the shoulders, flourishing their arms. “The Camdian Violet of con artists.”

Until that moment, Vela had never rolled her eyes at a target. “And what about the marketplace? Were you testing whether I’m na?ve enough to play along with your little game, whatever it is?”

“Hardly!” They flashed their infuriating, lopsided smile. “All the cleverness and intuition in the world would be useless to me, were you not also kind . I needed to know you could cast your personal ambitions aside for the good of others. You passed the test with aplomb.”

Vela plucked the broadest question from the storm in her skull. “Why would I work with you? Even if you weren’t an intergalactic fugitive, you’ve done nothing but lie to me!”

“Only visually.” The Wanderling shrugged. “You can’t blame a man in my predicament for practicing caution.”

“Oh? So you’re name’s really Fyn, is it?”

“Fyneas, technically, but a nickname hardly constitutes a lie.”

Vele blinked, bewildered. She’d been certain they…er, he had given her an alias. Either he was supremely stupid, or he truly needed her help with something. Regardless, she could likely pry a few more details from those surprisingly loose lips of his.

“Well, Fyn , mind telling me what you’re doing here? The whole Intergalactic Consortium knows you crash-landed on this planet, and I’m not the only hound on your trail. Why haven’t you purchased a new craft and headed elsewhere?”

Fyn arched an eyebrow ridge. “What makes you think I have that kind of money just lying around?”

“ Fifty million zenna isn’t enough for your preferred spacecraft?”

“Oh, that?” He waved the notion away. “Those aren’t my funds to spend.”

Of all the perplexing answers he could have given. “What do you mean, they aren’t?—”

Rubber soles squealed against linoleum, shattering Vela’s concentration and hopes alike. She’d been so cautious, forwent blinking in favor of a shuttle, and yet…

“How kind of you to keep our quarry occupied.” Kalis’s voice rang through the open space, turned brassy by chrome pillars and support beams. “You’ve played the role of decoy with grace, as always. Time to let the real hunters have a go, hm?”

Vela closed her eyes, exhaling slowly through her nose. He must have placed a trace on her credit account. If he’d given her cause to worry, she’d have switched services in the years since the breakup. Apparently, he’d been saving that particular blade for the moment her spine was most exposed.

“ This is the creature who’s been evading you?” Tarah said as the lackeys took up position, stun guns raised. “I know you’re a shit aim, but who could possibly miss such a massive, metallic target?”

Vela smothered a laugh before it could burst free. Her rivals had been following her every move, yet they had no clue about their target’s true identity. Amateurs, all.

“Capturing men has never been Vela’s weakness.” Kalis sauntered forward with all of his trademark arrogance, not a weapon on his person. “Keeping them is another matter. It’s a pity my victories must always result in her failure, but to the brightest goes the battle.”

“A lover’s spat?” Fyn’s face twisted, slitted eyes flicking to Vela. “You’re a smart girl, but you have horrendous taste in partners.”

Oh, didn’t she know it.

“It’s a foolish buck who mocks the hunter.” Kalis wagged a finger, glancing back at his minions. “On my signal…”

He counted down from five. A split-second before he reached one, the Wanderling’s body folded inward with a terse crackle of bone. Three sets of membranous wings sprouted from the small, gray body of an asteroid imp. It lifted into the air, leaving Fyn’s clothing piled on the chair with the exception of a nylon jumpsuit that had shrunk with his figure. The transformation stunned the hounds, allowing him to flit down the nearest hall.

“What are you waiting for?” Kalis growled, shaking free of his stupor. “Split up and cut him off, dammit!”

The lackeys raced toward three different exits while their leader charged after Fyn. Vela spun on her heel and raced toward the staircase she’d just climbed. Bootsteps stormed through the building, delving far deeper than ground level. Vela surpassed three sets with ease, though the fourth maintained a steady lead. She allowed the railing to guide her as shadows bled across her vision, robbing the world of color and definition. Her helm tumbled free when she ducked beneath a landing, but she dared not retrieve it for fear of losing ground. The world was that much darker for its absence, but—thanks to her little low-tide experiment—the atmosphere no longer posed a threat.

She soon arrived at a storage facility cluttered with crates and empty cages, a single lamp dangling in one corner. Two figures squared off near the center of the space, both with stately frames, long black hair, and liquid amber eyes. In the gloom, even their outfits looked identical.

Vela leveled her weapon at the space between the doubles. The temptation to shoot them both was alarmingly strong.

“Get on with it!” barked the leftmost Kalis, waving toward his twin. “Shoot the blasted fraud!”

“Yes, please,” quipped the Kalis on the right. “Anything to shut him up!”

“I-I’ll split the bounty!” Leftmost offered, sounding nearly sincere. “You know it’s me, my delicate swamp flower.”

Vela cringed. She’d always hated that pet name. All pet names, really.

“And I know you’ll make the right call,” Rightmost countered, “my…fierce little… canopy lemur?”

Okay, that one was kind of cute.

“I heard voices! This way!” Zyl’s shout rang from above, followed by racing bootsteps.

With the fuse running short, Vela pulled the trigger. The true Kalis gasped, eyes rolling back as he fell limp to the floor.

“I was counting on your good judgement,” Fyn said with a tellingly nervous laugh.

As badly as Vela wanted to shoot him, there was no way she could drag him from the scene. Not before her rivals caught up.

“Shut up and follow me.” She grabbed his arm and tugged him toward a metal door with a foreboding yellow triangle plastered on the front. Darkness waited beyond the threshold, too dense for even the strongest visor to filter.

Any other exit would have been preferable, but the encroaching bootsteps narrowed her options to one. She pulled the Wanderling into the shadows and jarred the door shut behind them. The deadbolt slid into place right as Kalis’s crew burst into the basement.