Page 21 of Dax: Gratefully Bonded

Except that I knew nothing at all about Alliance fashion, having had no warning about this outing and no time to prepare for it. But I could do this, I counselled myself. I could learn.

Maybe the best place to start would be with what I shouldnotbe wearing, and move on from there. “Are there any particular taboos about clothing choices for different species?” I asked, looking around at the people filling the area. The Denzogalstended to choose baggy, comfortable clothing. The Solofs opted for bright colours, to highlight their purple skin.

On that note, I realised that I was getting a few curious stares, and it occurred to me that I was the only person I’d seen today with blue skin. Well, actually, I had scales, not skin, but the effect was the same. And even Kade had been wearing his scales as brown when I’d seen him. I’d thought at the time that it was likely just a response to a request from his master. Humans were brown, and some masters liked their dimari to look like them. I’d dismissed it, since my master had never asked me to change colour… but now it occurred to me that perhaps Kade did it to blend in on a planet wherebluewas not a colour commonly associated withpeople.

“Would you like me to be brown, instead of blue?” I asked my master, then realised that I’d interrupted him before he could answer my last question. That was bad manners, and I braced myself for a reprimand.

My master looked surprised… and then looked around, his eyes narrowing as he noticed the stares we were getting. “No,” he said firmly, sounding a little pissed off about it, and I ducked my head, ready to apologise for having asked something inappropriate. But then he continued. “If other people have a problem with what you are, then they can take it up with me. Other than that, they can fuck off.” He said it just loud enough for a nearby human woman to hear, and she swiftly averted her eyes, pretending to take great interest in the clothing rack in front of her.

Lowering his voice again, he said, “As for the clothing, no, not really. There are a few ceremonial things for each species, but you’re not likely to find those in a shop like this.” It was a relief that my questions hadn’t annoyed him, but his answer didn’t give me much to go by in terms of clothing choices, either.

“Do you have any particular preference for colours?” I asked next.

My master shrugged. “No. Choose whatever makes you happy.”

Whatever made me happy? What made me happy was serving my master. If he was happy, then I was happy. But he was ill, suffering from stress and trauma and alcoholism, unable to figure out what food to buy or what to eat for dinner, never mind choosing colours and styles of clothing. So where did that leave me?

I began moving through the racks of clothing, trying to imagine what it would feel like to wear each item. “There’s a changing room at the back, if you want to try anything on,” my master said.

That would help a great deal. “Do we have a time limit?” I asked next. Should I be trying on only a few things, or a lot? And how many items did he want to buy for me?

“So long as we’re home before dark, it’s all good,” he said, a terribly vague statement that gave me no indication as to what else we needed to fit into the day. I was supposed to clean one of the rooms in his house thoroughly, and that could take several hours. And I should check the house-comm to see if there was any new mail. And I’d resolved to keep a brief diary of our activities for Aiden, in case he had any comments about what would be most suitable for helping my master recover.

I gathered up an armful of things that looked like they would be suitable for cleaning – loose enough to move in, nothing too fancy lest it get dirty – and went off to the changing room. Without any further instructions as to what I should be looking for, I figured I would pick a few things and ask my master if they were appropriate. If he didn’t like them, he could always say no.

Or was that being presumptuous? But on Aiden’s advice, I’d been rather presumptuous the night before, and all thingsconsidered, it hadn’t turned out badly. My master had rejected my attempt at dinner, and I’d floundered for a moment, unable to think of anything to say that wouldn’t have come out as an order to him to eat something. But then he’d changed his mind. He’d eaten, and asked for some ketchup to accompany the meal. I’d taken note of that, not having known much about human food customs. He’d taken his pill without any protest. He’d chosen one of my suggestions for something to watch. He’d brushed his teeth at my prompting, though I was aware I’d been skirting rather close to annoying him with that one. Expecting a dimari to make decisions for their master was a monumental challenge, completely the opposite of everything we were taught.

And yet, for the few minor decisions I’d nudged him about, things had gone surprisingly smoothly.

I returned to him, some seven or eight minutes later, with two pairs of trousers and three shirts. “Would these be suitable?” I asked, showing him my selections.

“Yeah, not a bad start,” he said. “Anything else you like in here, or shall we look at a different shop?”

I was not equipped to be a companion, I thought helplessly, as I floundered for a reply. How many things did he want me to choose? What sorts of events were we going to be attending, now that Aiden was nipping at my master’s heels to get him out of the house? How many questions could I ask before he lost patience with me? And was I supposed to just be choosing clothes, or the usual add-ons – belts, shoes, jackets? Hats? Socks and underwear?

While I was struggling to come up with an appropriate response, a Solof woman moved down the aisle next to my master and bumped into him with her bag. My master jumped, tensing and spinning around. His hand came up, and I moved without thinking, latching onto his wrist before he could hitthe woman. She wandered on, her back to us, not even having noticed his reaction.

I let go of my master’s arm, feeling a hot rush of fear and shame surge through me. This was why I was going to be a terrible companion. Regardless of any good intentions on my part, it was absolutely not my place to be putting my hands on my master.

My master froze, his breathing coming quickly. He clenched his hands into fists and shoved them into the pockets of his jacket. He swallowed, then took a slow breath. And then he said, “Thank you. She startled me.”

I blinked, trying to work out what the hell had just happened. I had physically disciplined my own master, and he wasthankingme for it? What strange parallel universe had I just wandered into?

His gaze drifted around the shop, and he seemed completely at a loss as to what to do next. “Perhaps we should go to another shop,” I said, carefully making it a suggestion, not an order. “I would like to look for some new shoes, if that’s okay with you?”

My master brightened, though I could tell it was forced. “Yeah, absolutely,” he said, attempting a smile. “You’ll need some boots for walking. And some dress shoes, in case we end up going out to dinner, or something. And some sandals for summer.”

Hm. It sounded like he was intending on buying me an entire new wardrobe. I was happy to work with that, so long as I understood what he was aiming for. I smiled and led the way out of the shop, gratified when my master fell into step beside me.

◊◊◊

Three hours later, I led my master out of the café where we’d had a light lunch, wondering how the heck I was going to convince him that it was time to go home. Just before we’dstopped for lunch, he’d had his third incident of being startled, when a Wasop teenager had run into him, not watching where he was going, and I’d had to physically step between them to prevent an altercation. I’d suggested going home then, but my master had stubbornly refused. I’d suggested getting something to eat as a distraction, but I could tell that we were running out of time before his temper frayed entirely. It had been a long time since he’d been out in public, and the noise and crowds were clearly wearing on him.

By now, I had a large bundle of clothes I’d selected, all of them packaged up and sent off to be delivered to my master’s house this afternoon. That, I had discovered, was one of the ingenious wonders of this city. It was designed so that the vast majority of products and services were accessible locally, and a delivery service transported goods to the buyer’s home anything up to four times a day, allowing people to leave their purchases at the shop, rather than having to lug them all around the shopping centre. It would certainly be more convenient than trying to squeeze all those bags onto the already crowded trains that ran on regular schedules around the city.

“Perhaps we should head home now,” I said, hoping that my master would be more cooperative now that he’d eaten.

“No, I’m fine. This is good,” he said, though I could see that he was gritting his teeth as he said it. “We haven’t got you a jacket yet. And there’s a great shoe store down the next row of shops.