Page 12 of Defiance (The Intersolar Union #7)
I squinted into the early morning light as the tangerine sun crept above the trees and pulled steam out of the groundcover. I was already sweating, sore from the events of the night before, and strung out on a venom-induced hangover that left my mouth dry.
I’d considered going the self-loathing route. Regret would’ve been the natural result of getting so thoroughly fucked and then thoroughly fucked over. Agent Gaul’s whiplash was so severe, I might have developed a concussion. But it was exactly what I’d agreed to. I wasn’t going to let my momentary misconceptions about what we were doing get in the way of filing that in my memory bank under The Grandest Shag of All Time. I’d hope that by my forties, I’d learned that sometimes sex was just sex.
Hunar stood by the front of the hangar, handing something off to a tall, devastatingly familiar figure, and waved to me when I turned the corner. Agent Gaul was with him, his arms crossed, tail swaying. In the light he was even more beautiful with iridescent scales that gleamed like a raven patina. His jackal-like features were refined if imposing, and the colear? he’d mentioned the night before was more visible to me now: a series of tags and flexible scales that lined the top of his muzzle. So that’s why he’d pressed the bridge of his nose to my neck…
My heart skipped and I blew a lock of hair from my face.
“Traitor,”
I grumbled, hoofing it up the hill.
“Good morning, Charlie,”
Hunar said as I huffed and puffed that last few strides.
“Have you met Novak Gaul? He’ll be accompanying you to Piaoguo.”
I avoided looking at him as I put my hands on my waist, catching my breath. Gaul, however, stared, a duffel gripped in one large, clawed hand. Neither of them knew what a blush was, right? Because mine was raging.
“Aye. Briefly,”
I clipped.
Ever the talkative type, Hunar nodded once and walked into the hangar, expecting us to follow. We fell in line side by side, our heads turned firmly towards Hunar’s back. A skittering sound followed us across the grated metal floors and I realized it was Gaul’s tail.
“Zufi has prepared your luggage,”
the chief engineer threw back, pushing a locker closed as we passed the empty engineering lounge. It banged shut, filling the cool, humid interior with a hollow echo.
“Gifts with a list of who they’re suitable for, some reading materials on diplomatic etiquette that you’re definitely not expected to know so just toss it, and clothes for three weeks made of Yaspurian and Dharateen fibres.”
Hunar’s mane twisted as if he were rolling his eyes.
“He made me promise to tell you the last part. He’s convinced people are going to ask you about it.”
“What I’m wearing isn’t good enough?”
I’d packed a bag, of course. Looking down at myself, I saw how the textiles were losing elasticity from use, how the dyes had faded during countless cleaning cycles. I sniffed myself surreptitiously, and breathed a sigh of relief that I smelled like alien deodorant instead of river mud and shame.
Hunar shrugged.
“We programmed the home units with standard closets. Every color, closure, and detail is worn by every other colony in the Union. Is it fine? Sure. But you’re an ambassador of your species until your feet touch down on Renatan soil again. Pains me to say it, but I’m with Zufi on this one.”
He tapped a tug drone awake and it began loading the luggage. Three rubbery mini cargo crates with my name on them.
“The hjarna value polish,”
Agent Gaul said, his voice playing my spine like an instrument. The last time I heard that voice, he’d said he’d never—Nope. He’d definitely groaned my name and said, thank you for the dogging. Not any of the other stuff that could shatter my self-confidence or keep me up pacing, wondering if he was younger or older than me and if that mattered to an alien.
“Your sister city’s liaison is a smart man.”
“Yes…”
Hunar rolled one shoulder.
“But never say that to his face.”
Novak grinned, his tail slapping the floor.
“Make sure I’ve packed a hairbrush. Got it.”
My voice broke higher than usual, forcing me to clear my throat. I gestured towards the side door.
“Shall we?”
The transpo was sleek, smaller than the delivery ships that Aavar and Piro piloted, but with a corrugated hull that wobbled like a mirage. The gangplank was already rolled down like a proverbial red carpet. Hunar clapped Novak on the back.
“Safe travels, Nov,”
he said.
“Take good care of Charlie and yourself.”
“Take good care of the new residents.”
Novak squeezed his shoulder, tail curling around itself in a spiral.
“I hear they were born late last evening.”
Hunar didn’t smile often, but the way he beamed warmed his grey temperament into the brightest summer day. I smiled too, recalling the snap attached to a midnight announcement. Humans in all the home towers hung out their balconies and sang Happy Birthday as a rising chorus, waving their holotabs like concert vigils.
“I’ll guard them with my life, my kral.”
It was a serious statement with a serious head bow that left me perplexed. But we strapped in soon after and the engines hummed to full power and I held onto my harness for dear life, teeth vibrating right out of my skull.
Even when we left the atmosphere and the shaking stopped, Agent Gaul kept quiet. A blessing, really. No platitudes or awkward small talk. The line in the proverbial sand couldn’t be clearer: business was business, and Gaul wasn’t going to dress it up with social niceties.
The pilot, a tight-lipped shilpakaari woman with short violet tendrils, opened the observation shield. She turned off the interior lights, speaking quietly to a glowing holo-orb that pulsed with another murmuring voice. The pilot chuckled, sitting back in the cockpit with one boot up. She took a languid drink of water while the transpo guided itself towards a sleek silver ship growing larger to our left.
If she wasn’t worried, I wasn’t either. Compared to a boat on the rough Irish seas, the gentle drifts of a spaceship made me sleepy and calm. I gazed out of the windshield at the stars you couldn’t see from the ground, and wondered which one of them was the Sun. Could I even see if from here?
“Where’s Piaoguo?”
I asked suddenly. Surely our destination was closer. Gaul’s ear twitched and the pilot looked over her shoulder at me. She pressed a couple of lightkeys on her display, and the windshield highlighted a tiny cluster of light near its upper edge.
“In the Taixi system,”
she told me, planting her feet back on the ground. She stowed her water bottle and shook out her short tendrils.
“What about Earth?”
The pilot looked at Agent Gaul for a hard moment, but he didn’t respond, ears perfectly still while he stared back. She tapped some more, and a line glowed up the surface of the windshield.
“It’s above us. About there.”
She pointed towards one o’clock through the ceiling with one black fingernail.
I stared at the spot and felt just… the same. I’d lived my entire life in County Mayo minus my university years. Having no way to return was a liberation.
“Cheers,”
I said under my breath, rubbing my palms on my thighs. Gaul watched me again, the scales along his nose flexing as he adjusted his fangs. I gave him a tight-lipped smile, then studied the stars some more.
I didn’t even realize we were docking until I saw the transpo drift into the larger ship’s hull sideways. It felt exactly like docking a boat, minus the rumble of the diesel engines. By the time we disembarked, I felt in my element.
At least until I came face to face with the god-tier resting bitch face of a shilpakaari woman with lavender skin and turtleshell eyes. She studied me in her mahogany gaze, the gold stripes of her pupils thin and skeptical. Shiny tendrils with a golden sheen of oil curled comfortably over her shoulders like a Brazilian blowout worthy of American news anchors.
Agent Gaul walked down the gangplank without ceremony.
“Gaul, always a pleasure.”
He snapped his tail at her feet, watching our luggage as the pilot offloaded it.
“Or not. Anyway, welcome aboard the Tidus,”
she said with fake boredom. She lifted her cuticles to inspect them, but her eyes scanned me from head to toe.
“Commander Siat Xata. And you are?”
“Charlie Halloway.”
I held out my hand to shake, just in case, but the commander didn’t seem to recognize the gesture. She looked at my hand, then nodded her head once and turned on her heel.
“Briefing in my quarters. I’m going to need a stiff drink for this.”
Splendid. So much for not knowing human greetings. Xata definitely did and definitely snubbed me on purpose. This was going to be a pleasant trip.