Page 17 of Defiance (The Intersolar Union #7)

After slathering ourselves in sakharel again, Novak descended the ship’s ramp first, his shoulders at eye level. I stared at him, at the delicate pattern of scales that covered a long, thick neck. The base of his ears mesmerized me and I looked my fill. They were muscular, feeding into the nape of his neck to give a mouth-watering divot along his spine. The corded tendons jumped as his ears turned this way and that, standing tall and proud above his head.

Then he stepped aside and the sky opened up into a peerless blue with fluffy white clouds. The air was so dry that the insides of my nostrils creped like paper and my arms pebbled. I felt like a lizard on a basking rock, soaking in the heat without the boiling towel called “jungle steam”

drowning me slowly.

Then I noticed the horizon, my steps slowing to a halt with my hand on the rail.

When I’d seen Piaoguo out of the porthole in my quarters, I’d assumed it was covered in oceans and I’d been right… If I could count a sea of massive blue sand dunes.

They lapped at the horizon as far as the eye could see, meeting the sky like choppy waters. Heat wavered above them, catching the sunlight in a glitter of lapis lazuli and amethyst sand that made it difficult to tell exactly where the dunes became the sky. I squeezed the rail, disoriented, my brain trying to recalibrate what was up and what was down.

Agent Gaul cupped my elbow to help me down, but when I turned to thank him, I found a tall hjarna with marigold skin leaning up the ramp towards me instead. He smiled with bright white camel-like teeth in a thin, wide mouth, the corners of his large black eyes crinkling.

“Tailu is known to do that to visitors,”

he said with a butterscotch voice.

“Please, allow me, yes?”

“Oh. Thank you,”

I said, blinking at him as he escorted me down to the dock. I glanced at Agent Gaul, but he was sweeping the port with only one ear trained on me. I didn’t want to distract him, so I smiled at the helpful hjarna.

“What’s a tie-loo?”

“It’s the horizon’s name. Ancient hjarna thought it was a sentient road that called us to our destiny. A god, I suppose.”

The man dropped my arm and pressed his palm to his chest. His fingers were longer than mine with an extra knuckle each. Of all the species I’d seen, hjarna had the most human-like skin with wrinkles in their knuckles and oiled cuticles from which grew neatly trimmed nails. This man’s crest was angled back from his face, decorated in a collection of cinnamony patterns that resembled QR codes. They’d been powdered on with a stencil and glittered in the amber sunlight.

“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Imani Renatex. My name is La?we Sath. I’ll be your liaison while you’re our esteemed guest.”

I laughed, looping my flyaways behind my ears as a breeze blew past.

“I’m not Imani,”

I said, feeling ludicrous and panicked at the same time.

“There must have been a mix-up. We read the invitation as a general call for participation and I volunteered.”

Mr La?we—I’d read that hjarna put their cluster’s surname before their given name—blinked out of sync.

“Then you are…?”

I held out my hand for a handshake and he took it, holding my fingers gently in his big palm like we were about to dance. I cleared my throat as he stared at my hand, though I had the distinct suspicion he was looking at my face at the same time.

Shrimp eyes, shrimp eyes, shrimp eyes!

Excitement rode me so hard that I had to pinch my lips together to keep from blurting a question about polarized light.

“Sorry.”

I managed not to squeal in academic delight and was very proud of myself.

“I’m Charlie Halloway. I’m an ichthyologist specializing in oceanic salmonid aquaculture. I’ve read about food production on Piaoguo and was fascinated to see it myself. I hope it’s alright that I’ve crashed the party.”

Mr La?we stood up straight, his crest near as tall as Agent Gaul’s ears. His eyes widened to catch the warm light in an expression of mild shock that let me investigate those peepers without looking like a creep. Rather than one pupil, his gaze appeared to be a hexagonal latticework of many pupils densely packed together. The divisions between them caught the turmeric gold of his skintone like a thin network of wires that disappeared into the depths of those large, black orbs.

“No, no! Please, Ms Halloway. There’s no cause for distress. I will straighten our schedule and activities, yes? No trouble at all.”

He smiled, turning his head and using his bone crest to shield me from a gust of wind from the desert.

“You must be famished after vessel rations. If you’re so interested in our foods, hm, why don’t we eat lunch on our way to your accommodations?”

My stomach rumbled at the excellent idea. “Craic!”

I held out my open palm to Agent Gaul and he blinked down at me, one ear twitching.

“Yes, Ms Halloway?”

he asked, and my stomach flipped. I nodded to my bag, still slung over his shoulder.

“Shouldn’t I take that?”

His nose bent towards it, his scales lifting just so.

“I don’t mind,”

he managed, giving me a forced smile.

“Nonsense,”

Mr La?we said, reaching over my shoulder towards the strap.

“You have more important things to do than be a beast of burden.”

He slid the bag off Agent Gaul’s shoulder and the advenan’s red pupils turned to dagger-thin slits. Not that our hjarna host seemed to notice.

“Thank you,”

Novak hissed.

“Of course. You are Ms Halloway’s protection, I assume?”

“That’s correct.”

“Excellent. I will have an auxiliary room prepared for you…”

They stared at each other as Mr La?we hoisted my bag over his shoulder with vapid good humor. Novak tasted the air, his tail slapping my ankle, then dodging away. Was part of his job to wither people into submission? The next time his tail came near me, I kicked it in a silent plea to play nice. He could search my bag for surveillance devices later.

“...Novak.”

I cleared my throat and turned towards the port entrance.

“So! Do you have a favorite local pub, Mr La?we?”

“As a matter of fact…”

?

It turns out La?we Sath was a craic time. He guided us through the markets of Hja Qiyua, the Union capital of Piaoguo, knowing very little about agriculture other than what tasted good and how to make the wide variety of mushrooms and mussels wiggle or spit. His expertise was in colony law and contract negotiations, which sounded far too important to be assigned as a glorified tour guide.

“On the contrary,”

he said, walking backwards while I skimmed my hands over oysters with iridescent obsidian shells and tapped the spore blooms on a curtain of teal fungi. After living in a red jungle, I hadn’t realized how starved I was for green and blue, and Piaoguo was drowning in it.

“This is a dream assignment. You do live in the Union’s most elusive colony, after all, yes? Perhaps I can glean some exclusive intel.”

“I don’t know. Humans are very mysterious,”

I said, waggling my brows. Fun as he was, I wasn’t giving him anything on the colony or even humans in general.

I think he expected that though, because he laughed, his big smile exposing a set of thick fangs in both the upper and lower jaws, just like a camel. They were set further back in his mouth rather than up front like the venandi or advenans, so that when he smiled without laughing, I couldn’t see them.

“Here we are,”

he said, leading me with a gesture towards a shadowy arch that had been carved into intricate geometric patterns. The deep cuts of cream and pale blue marbled sandstone were rounded on the edges from thousands of hands. Sapphire drifts sloped against the corners and colored between the cobblestones, polished from centuries of foot traffic.

The smaller details looked like they might be writing. I brushed my fingertips over the diagonal wedge marks. What was that ancient writing system… Cuneiform? It was similar, save the two perfectly vertical slash marks at my eyeline.

Maybe it was a menu. Or prayers. An address? I snorted, imagining they were restaurant notices you’d find on the windows. No jeans, no trainers.

Agent Gaul glanced at the pillar with me, his face unreadable. I grinned.

“What do you suppose it says?”

I asked him.

“No free wifi? Restrooms for customers only?”

He huffed, but some of the tension in his face eased. His ear twitched towards me.

“Are these what humans write on their business walls?”

I grinned.

“No shoes, no shirt, no service. Service dogs only. Free straw with drink purchase.”

“You have to tell people the straw is free?”

he balked.

Amusement cracked open the agent’s steely expression. He shifted on one hip, tilting his utility belt and the slim weapons stored along his thigh as he leaned his elbow on the pillar. I swallowed, ignoring how unsteady his attention made me feel. Hot and cold at the same time. My soul was muggy, damp, somewhere between anticipation and embarrassment for how easily I’d forgotten our river rendezvous was a calculated choice.

I wouldn’t forget again.

“What can I say? Some of us haven’t the full deck.”

I tapped my temple. Gaul’s tongue tasted the air as he hissed a chuckle.

Mr La?we wound back around the alley and gestured to me.

“Come, Ms Halloway.”

The little restaurant had no door, rather a set of stairs that led into a half-basement room with alabaster-painted walls and floors. A sort of net covered the floor like a rug, and attracted sand particles into its fibres so that the areas of netting around the windows and stairs were vibrant blue while the rest was faded maroon. Agent Gaul looked in, then stepped aside so I could enter first.

“Da le!”

our host called. The dining area was empty with smooth benches enough for only two or three parties.

“Da le, da le!”

someone responded from beyond a set of curtains.

Mr La?we gestured me in and I stomped my feet on the net. I wandered to a bench with a long, narrow table, all carved right out of the floor. It reminded me of cob houses with their smooth round walls and windows. The entire interior here was plastered over, too. Probably to keep the gritty stone from crumbling.

“We’ll be having a universal dish that’s native here,”

Mr La?we said, sitting down on the other side of the bench.

“Since you’re an ichthyologist, I assume you’re comfortable eating water vegetation?”

“Aye, and I’ll try anything once,”

I said, scootching down my side of the bench. I looked out the door where Agent Gaul was still standing and patted the seat beside me.

“Come on, Novak!”

My heart twisted using his first name out loud since the last time I’d said it was at the river, but it was wiser to use the name he’d introduced himself with.

“No sense in roasting out there.”

Gaul peered inside, his hands holding the same places on the archway that others had for as long as it had existed as his tail paced from one side of the narrow alley to the other. He was taller than Mr La?we, ears bending back where they hit the top of the arch. Their eyes met and he blinked away first.

“Thank you, Ms Halloway, but I’ve already eaten.”

I squinted at him. No he bloody well didn’t.

“Please, I insist,”

Mr La?we said. The hjarna from the back room came out with two bowls of bouncy, curly seaweed and paused halfway to the table, staring at Agent Gaul. Mr La?we held up his hand to him with a smile and the proprietor’s eyes caught on the markings on his crest.

“There’s no reason for Novak to stand out in the heat, yes?”

The man hesitated, then nodded his head, setting down our bowls slowly.

“I don’t have anything for an advenan to eat,”

he said to Mr La?we, jaw clenched.

“Not a problem.”

Agent Gaul descended the steps and joined our table with a sway in his step. All confidence and straight posture.

“Chimaeri can eat anything.”

Gaul slid in next to me, tail brushing my calves. His long claws collected my bowl, their points clicking against the engraved metal, and took a bite of my food.

“One of many things that make us excellent bodyguards.”

“Excellent point.”

Mr La?we smiled at the man, then picked up his own bident while I poured water from a sweating carafe. There were only two silver cups, so I called out to the curtain.

“Excuse me, could we get another—”

“That’s alright.”

Gaul cut me off, sliding my bowl in front of me once more.

“It’s safe to eat.”

“But—”

“I already ate. Enjoy your meal, Ms Halloway. It’s safe to eat.”

Gaul stood back up, finished pouring my drink, then retreated to the outskirts of the room, studying each window in a slow walk about. He investigated every crack in the walls and ceiling, the shelves and vents. He was taking his job seriously. He really was taking his job seriously, even if the plan was for him to fail.

“So, Ms Halloway—”

“Charlie, please.”

I took a gulp of water, feeling chapped.

“Ms Halloway makes me feel like a Victorian governess.”

“Sath, then.”

I clinked my glass against his, which still sat on the table, and took another large drink. “Sláinte.”

“Slawn-cha?”

“It means cheers where I’m from.”

Sath’s expression fell.

“Ah… I take it your native language didn’t make it into our linguitors. So many protected species lose so much when Union life interrupts theirs, yes? I wish Awakenings were more proactive.”

“It’s not my native language,”

I hedged.

“But you’re right. Even if we’re safe, we still mourn for everything we’ve lost.”

I took a big bite of my seaweed salad and made a noise of happiness. It was bright and slightly sour, with pops of crunchy garnish like radish chunks and mushy chickpeas.

“This makes up for some of it though. I haven’t had a proper salad in ages.”

Sath’s smile returned.

“Tell me more about your work,”

I said, hoping he’d get animated while I stuffed my face. This was the first fresh food I’d seen in a week.

“You mentioned colony law?”

“I’ve been working with the yiwren to secure a settlement contract, yes? Their homeworld, Byd Farrwel, was ravaged by plague rot, and returning won’t be possible for another century or more.”

“Feck’s sake,”

I exhaled.

“And I thought we had it bad.”

“We’ll be wrapping it up soon, yes. Yiwren are especially sensitive to magnetic fields, and HIXBS has been committed to finding them a stable solution.”

“Huajile Institute for Xenobiological Studies,”

I said, just to confirm.

“Seems like a pretty powerful organization you work for.”

Sath swallowed a bite of food.

“I’m very proud of HIXBS, yes. Medical advancement is their top priority, but in recent decades, they’ve invested more into protected species. Food bays, pre-fab clinics, medicines, research studies, even infrastructure and emergency relief. My part is very small.”

“Somehow I doubt that,” I teased.

“Oh yes,”

he insisted, calling for a refill of our salad and carafe. Then he leaned over the table with a smirk.

“Last week, I negotiated toilets.”

I snorted into my water.

“There’s nothing more important than toilets,”

I recovered, coughing.

Sath’s eyes gleamed as he sat back on his bench.

“And your work? An ichthyologist must be thrilled to share a moon with the shilpakaari.”

“Aye, except I’m an expert in something that doesn’t exist there. It’s not like they’re farming Atlantic salmon or trout. I suppose I could go and work in aquaculture again, but I like that I can follow my curiosities instead of a paycheck now. I’m old enough that I don’t feel the need to chase a career anymore.”

Sath smiled, watching me eat.

“So you were a farmer?”

I tilted my hand this way and that.

“I managed artificial spawning channels for large fish farming operations.”

“Spawning…?”

Did the tips of Sath’s crest turn a burnt shade of cinnamon? I tapped the corners of my mouth to make sure no zesty roe was peeking out of my lips, and took a sip of water, buying time. I’d really put my foot in it. Sath was so easy to talk to that I’d forgotten it might be a sensitive topic. Maybe I’d just casually mentioned being a dominatrix. At least I hadn’t started talking about eggs and milt.

Would my linguitor translate hjarna jip as milt?

“Oh!”

I cleared my throat, ears going pink.

“Well, ah… Yes.”

I grimaced good naturedly.

Sath blinked, brushing his long fingers on the table.

“If it interests you, I could invite you to mine.”

I stared at him, bident halfway to my mouth.

“Your… spawning channel?”

“The La?we channels are very well maintained.”

He sat up a little straighter.

“And HIXBS has an aquatic xeno-ecology lab here in Hja Qiyua that I’ve heard is quite remarkable. Perhaps I can replace the outings I’d planned for Imani Renatex, hm, with these. If you’re amenable, of course.”

“Okay,”

I decided with a slow nod.

“If it’s really alright. I don’t want to intrude on something so personal.”

“I’d be honored to give you a tour, Charlie. No trouble at all.”

We stood, Sath paid, and I took the rest of my salad to go, wondering exactly how excited was too excited to see the spawning channel of a man I’d just met.